Chapter 19: I Am Not The Nerevarine

The journey to Dagon Fel took nearly three days, most of which I spent cooped up in a small, cramped cabin that smelled of ale and stale vomit (thank the Gods I don't get seasick). By the end of it I had all but convinced myself that I'd imagined the whole encounter in the shrine. After all, how likely was it that the Daedra Lord Azura had specifically chosen me, Ada Ventura, to serve her? Then again, it was no more unlikely than some of the other things that had happened to me since I arrived in Morrowind.

When we finally reached the island ? up in the northernmost part of the country, in a region called Sheogorad ? I found that the only settlement there was a tiny fishing village, populated mainly by Nords. I spent most the morning stocking up on provisions and making sure my weapons and armour were in good repair ? I wasn't sure what kind of Daedra I might run into, and I wanted to be well prepared.

After that I set out for the small island to the north, where Azura's unfortunate priestess was undergoing her 100 years' enforced solitude. (Honestly, why anyone ever worships these Daedric lunatics is beyond me.) It was raining, but luckily there were plenty of those big mushrooms to hide under.

When I reached the coast and found that only a narrow channel separated the two islands, I decided now would be a good time to try out my new Water Walking spell. I'd never bothered to learn that spell in Cyrodiil, what with it being so landlocked, so it took me quite a few tries to get it right. But when it worked, it was brilliant ? I just ran across the surface of the water as if it had been solid ground.

If only the next part had been so easy. The minute I spotted the first couple of Daedra in the distance ? a Hunger and some Flame Atronachs ? I knew I was out of my depth. Concealed behind some rocks, I gave it some thought and decided to tackle the Atronachs first, as they would have a weakness to my enchanted frostsword. The Hungers could cast nasty Destruction spells, so they were best dealt with from a long distance and good cover.

The Atronachs both went down in a single hit. I got a little singed, but not badly hurt. Just as I was congratulating myself on my superior combat skills, I heard an ominous rumbling sound behind me, and spun round to find myself looking right at ? or rather, up at ? an enormous Ogrim.

With a cry of terror I ran for the nearest source of cover, a couple of tall rock pillars with a small gap between them, just as the Daedra's fist crashed down on the spot where I'd been standing a moment earlier. Luckily for me, Ogrims aren't that smart ? it lumbered up to the rocks, growling angrily, but didn't think to go round them. Trying to stay calm, I drew my sword and poked it through the gap in the rocks, thrusting it several times into the Ogrim's gigantic stomach. It was like jabbing a needle into an orange.

Just as I was about to cut and run, the sword's Frost magicka finally overcame the Ogrim, and it tumbled to the ground with a crash that must have been heard half a mile away. I sank to the ground, shaking, and took some time to rest and recover before taking on the other Daedra.

I could see the Hungers in the distance, wandering around near a small hut. As I took careful aim with my bow, I wondered how exactly they planned to drive Azura's priestess to madness. Presumably they couldn't actually approach her without voiding the wager, so what else could they do? Sit outside the hut all day whistling really annoying tunes?

Marksmanship has never been my strongest skill ? I'm not a bad shot, but not a particularly good one either, especially at this distance. My first arrow was caught by the wind and went wide of the mark. The second time I adjusted my aim a bit and managed to hit one of the Hungers, but unfortunately, the other one spotted me and came bounding towards me with an angry roar. I quickly ducked behind the rock I was using for cover, cast the Chameleon enchantment on my Amulet of Shadows, and drew my sword in readiness.

As the ugly, shrivelled-up creature paused only feet away from me, sniffing the air to try and catch my scent, I strode up to it, swung my sword with all my strength and brought the blade down heavily on its spindly neck. It's a good thing Daedra don't bleed, or it would have made quite a mess.

Glancing back towards the hut, I spotted one more Daedra standing guard by the door ? a Golden Saint, one of the most powerful servants of Sheogorath. They appear as scantily-clad women with shining golden skin ? a little like Altmer, only much more dangerous. I'd only met a couple of them before, but 'saintly' is the last word I'd use to describe them.

I ran up towards the Saint, aware that I didn't have much time before the Chameleon enchantment wore off. She didn't see or hear me as I snuck up behind her, so I took the opportunity to stab her through the heart from behind, killing her almost instantly. Not very honourable, I know, but then I've never met a Daedra who even tried to fight fair (they don't really 'die' in any case ? killing them just sends them back to the waters of Oblivion for a while).

Bending over the Saint's corpse, I noticed a ring on her finger bearing the symbol of Sheogorath, the Madgod. I still couldn't believe he and Azura would go to such lengths just to win a stupid bet. Still, I guess that when you're a bored, immortal, quasi-omnipotent being with too much time on your hands, you have to find some way to amuse yourself.

I took the ring as proof to show to Azura, and made my way back to the village of Dagon Fel, where I rented a room at the End of the World inn. I spent a reasonably comfortable night there, and set out on my three-day return journey to Sadrith Mora the next morning.

Dusk was falling when I disembarked at the Sadrith Mora docks and walked up to the Gateway Inn, which stood at the edge of the city. It was a typical Telvanni mushroom building except for the fact that it was set into a hill, above a large round stone door that presumably led through to the city. As far as I could see, it was the only way through unless you were into rock-climbing.

Leading up to the mushroom building were two narrow sets of steps, carved out of roots, on either side of the doorway. I carefully made my way up one of the stairways and entered the inn, where I was met by a Dunmer official. "Excuse me, please," I said. "Could you open the gate for me? I need to get to Wolverine Hall."

"Do you have Hospitality Papers?" he asked.

"I'm sorry?"

"According to the Collective Articles of the Council of the Great House Telvanni, out-house and outlander guests in Sadrith Mora may not travel in town or speak to or conduct business with citizens, tradesmen, or publicans unless they have Hospitality Papers," he said mechanically. "This is for the comfort and safety of our guests. As Prefect of Hospitality for Sadrith Mora, I can provide you with these papers for 25 gold."

I blinked. "Hang on. You're saying I have to purchase 'Hospitality Papers' just to travel through the city?"

"These are the laws of the Telvanni Council. Unless you are a member of the House, of course."

"But all I want is to get to Wolverine Hall!" I couldn't believe this. "You seriously expect people to pay 25 drakes just to walk through your town?"

The prefect sighed, giving me the impression I wasn't the first visitor to react this way. "Rules are rules, outlander. Would you care to purchase these Hospitality Papers?"

I could have kicked up a fuss, but in all honesty, I was just too tired. All I really wanted right now was to take a proper bath and sleep in a proper bed for the first time in days. So I agreed to buy the papers ? with a very bad grace, I must admit ? and returned to Wolverine Hall, now convinced that everything I'd been told about the Telvanni was true. 'Hospitality', indeed?

The next morning, following a quick trip back to Vivec to renew my Levitation spell, I returned to the Shrine of Azura. This time I hoped I might be able to have a proper conversation with her, perhaps even get a few answers. I walked up to the statue and waited there for a few seconds, wondering if she would appear spontaneously as she had last time. When nothing happened, I hesitantly took out Sheogorath's ring and placed it on the base of the statue.

Immediately I felt Azura's presence fill the shrine. "Well done, mortal," said that strange, ethereal voice. "You have preserved the integrity of my wager with Sheogorath. Now it will end as fated, and not due to the meddling of the Daedra Prince. Take this, and use it wisely."

"Azura, wait! Lady Azura ? " But it was no use. The presence was gone, and next to the ring lay a small but beautiful replica of Azura's eight-pointed star.

I'd heard of Azura's Star, of course; it was actually a powerful soulgem. I knew that it was technically a great favour to have it granted to me, something many people would literally kill for, but the problem was that I never used Soultrap spells. Other than using it as a way to impress people ? "Look, I was granted this by Azura herself!" ?there wasn't an awful lot I could do with it. What was more, I couldn't even sell it for fear of upsetting Her Ladyship.

Still, I didn't want to risk offending Azura by turning down her gift. So I picked up the ring and the star and tucked them both carefully away in my backpack, before leaving to search for the entrance to Aharnabi.

There's not really much to say about my encounter with Honthjolf, the traitorous Nord who'd deserted the Legion. I didn't like the idea of having to kill a fellow Legionnaire, even if he did worship Daedra ? and really, how could I condemn that after what I'd just done myself? But I'd long since resigned myself to the fact that being a fighter could be a nasty job at times, so I did what I had to. Honthjolf didn't give me a choice in any case; the minute he realised I was a Legionnaire, he attacked me.

Afterwards I used my last Divine Intervention scroll to return to Wolverine Hall, then travelled back to Vivec by Guild Guide. After cleaning myself up and changing clothes, my first priority was to safely store away my new treasures in a bank. I didn't want to announce to the entire world that I was carrying around a priceless Daedric artifact, so when I got to the bank, I asked if I could speak to the manager. The clerk I spoke to was reluctant at first, but quickly changed her tune when I explained that I had some valuable items to deposit.

The bank manager's reaction to me pulling Azura's Star out of my grotty backpack was surprisingly calm; perhaps it wasn't the first time a humble-looking adventurer had turned up with rare and valuable artifacts. Vvardenfell seemed to be practically crawling with them, after all. He looked it over carefully, and though he didn't say anything, I could tell he was examining it to check that it wasn't a fake. When he'd satisfied himself that the star was genuine, I produced Sheogorath's ring and asked if he could tell me how much it was worth.

Again he examined the ring carefully before replying. "Yes, this is Sheogorath's symbol," he said at last. "And the ring itself is clearly Daedric workmanship. This could be quite valuable."

"I'm not very well up on the technical terms," I said. "Exactly how valuable is 'quite valuable'?"

"Well, I'm not a jeweller ? you would have to get it valued professionally. But at a rough guess, I would say it could be worth as much as thirty thousand drakes."

A Paralysis spell couldn't have rooted me to the spot more effectively. THIRTY THOUSAND drakes? Maybe he'd made a mistake and had actually meant to say 'thirty'?

"Forgive me," I said weakly. "Did you just say that this ring could be worth thirty thousand septims?"

"That would be my estimate, yes. Perhaps a few thousand more, or less."

My knees felt weak all of a sudden. Thirty thousand septims. I could buy passage to Cyrodiil twenty times over with that kind of money ? heck, I could buy my own ship with that amount. I was finding it hard to believe this wasn't all just a cruel joke.

"I'm not sure there is anyone in Vvardenfell who trades in this kind of item," the manager continued. "You may have to travel to the mainland." Ah. There's always a catch, isn't there?

Still, I wouldn't let myself be downcast. "But I could use it as security for a loan or something, right?"

"Of course."

I was still finding this hard to take in. "Wonderful," I said. "Thank you so much. I'll leave it in your vaults for the moment, then."

As I left the bank, I felt as if I were walking on air. My troubles were over. I could pay off the rest of my 'loan' from House Hlaalu ? not that there was much of it left anyway ? and I could go back to Cyrodiil. Home.

All at once I felt my eyes fill with tears. I hadn't heard anything more about riots in the Imperial City, so I'd assumed that things had calmed down for the moment ? but even so, the relief of knowing that I could go back if I wanted was tremendous. With so many other things to think about, I hadn't realised how much it had been weighing on my mind.

I was in such a good mood that I even felt up to going back to the Fighters Guild and speaking to Lorbumol gro-Aglakh. I didn't really want to take any more jobs from him after the last one, but on the other hand, I was keen to get back my old rank of Defender before returning home. At least that way I might stand some chance of being accepted back into the Cyrodiil guild. So I accepted a bounty contract on a Khajiit named Dro'Sakhar, whom he described as an outlaw.

Rather than go back to Ald'ruhn yet again to talk to Percius, I confirmed with the local Ordinators that there was a bounty on Dro'Sakhar's head, and then went to search for his hideout in the St. Olms canton. I finally found him in a poky one-room house on the lowest level of the canton. No one had told me his bounty was for, but the first thing I noticed on entering the house was a wooden training dummy with several daggers stuck into it. Not a nice person, clearly.

Instead of killing Dro'Sakhar, I simply used my Star of the West power to knock him out before handing him over to the guards. I returned to Lorbumol for my coveted promotion to Defender, and a reward of five hundred septims ? enough to pay off the remainder of my debt to House Hlaalu, and then some.

I celebrated my newfound wealth by buying myself some really nice clothes ? well, you never know when you might get invited to a party ? and a beautiful enchanted robe called a 'Frostmirror Robe', which offered protection against frost magic. After that I went to bed, exhausted after such a tiring day. I had some rather strange dreams that night, one involving Daedra, and another where I was being chased through long, narrow passageways by an unknown enemy.

Even this couldn't dent my good mood, however. I began the next day by travelling to the Hawkmoth Legion garrison in Ebonheart, taking the boat for once (I didn't want to push my luck) and reporting back to Frald the White on Honthjolf's death.

"It is always sad when someone betrays the Legions," he said sombrely, "but we cannot allow such traitors to live. Well done, Champion." He paused. "In fact, I am proud to give you the rank of Knight Errant? " He was joking, surely? "?and this cuirass and greaves."

I blinked. Frald was opening up a heavy chest that stood behind him in a corner, and taking out several pieces of beautiful golden Templar armour ? the kind only worn by the higher ranks of the Legion. Was he serious? He was making me a Knight?

"Lost your tongue, Knight?" he asked, seeing my stupefied expression.

"N-no, sir! Thank you, sir!" I tried to sound somewhat like a professional soldier, rather than a little girl who'd just been offered that marvellous doll in the shop window.

Frald handed the cuirass and greaves to me and turned away to speak to a messenger who'd just entered, leaving me half-convinced that this was all a wonderful dream, and I'd wake up any moment. Could Azura be behind this sudden extraordinary run of good luck? If so, I would definitely have to rethink my attitude towards Daedra worship.

I spent some time considering whether I ought to wear the Templar armour on my travels. It was really ceremonial armour, meant for officers who didn't do so much actual fighting ? on the other hand, it still offered excellent protection, as good as if not better than the normal Imperial armour. In the end, my love of shiny things won out and I decided to keep it. Since there was no way I could carry around two sets of heavy armour, I handed in the old armour to the fort's smith to be repaired and sold on.

Wearing my new armour, I returned to the Vivec Mages' Guild and travelled to Balmora to see Caius Cosades. For a few hilarious seconds I considered demanding that he call me 'Lady Ada' from now on, but I was feeling too generous. I wanted to buy the whole world a drink, even Caius. For once, even the dirty conditions and stink of skooma in his house didn't bother me too much.

"Greetings, muthsera," I said, giving him my best 'look, I'm picking up the lingo' smile. After all, I wasn't doing too badly: I'd learned the words for 'sir/madam', 'friend', 'bloody foreigner', 'mushroom forest', and 'fire-river'. (And that's all you need really, isn't it?)

Caius returned the smile. "Ah, I see you're learning some Dunmeris. Does this mean you've decided to stay on?"

"No."

"Why am I not surprised by this? Anyway, I take it you're here for orders." I nodded. "Okay, here's your mission: Fort Buckmoth sent a patrol to Gnaar Mok, hunting smugglers with Sixth House connections. They found a Sixth House base, a shrine, and a priest named Dagoth Gares. Speak to Champion Raesa Pullia at Fort Buckmoth, and she'll tell you what happened. Your orders are to find that base, kill Dagoth Gares, and bring me a full report."

"Righty-ho. Where's Fort Buckmoth?"

"Just south of Ald'ruhn. Be careful though, Ada," he added. "Don't take any chances. I think this will be a tough one."

While walking through Ald'ruhn later in the day, I noticed something new: people were starting to recognise me. They weren't running up for autographs or anything, but they would nod to me as I passed and greet me with "three blessings, sera," or occasionally even by name. I wondered if they'd got to hear of how I handled the case of Varvur Sarethi and the ash statues. Regardless, it was actually quite a nice feeling.

It didn't stop there: when I reached Fort Buckmoth and spoke to Raesa Pullia, I was astonished by how polite and deferential she seemed. It took a minute or two for me to realise that I actually outranked her. What was more, I was making it pretty obvious, marching around decked out in fancy Templar armour. Maybe I'd better be more careful how I acted around the locals, now that I was technically a high-ranking Legion commander.

She told me that only one trooper had returned alive from the assault on the Sixth House base. "He died soon after, horribly disfigured with corprus disease, and out of his wits," she said. "His flesh was all swollen and covered with growths, and his bones twisted and lost their shape." I tried not to shudder. "We wouldn't have recognised him if it hadn't been for his clothing and armour. The fort chaplain tried spells and potions, but he couldn't cure the disease."

"What happened to him at the base?"

"In his ravings, he spoke of a cavern on the coast Gnaar Mok ? he called it 'Ilunibi'. They fought with cultists and disfigured man-beasts ? corprus monsters, I think ? then they ran into a half-man creature named Dagoth Gares. This Dagoth Gares slew the rest of the patrol, but spared the one trooper. He told the trooper he was being spared, so he might tell others that 'The Sleeper Awakes', and 'The Sixth House has Risen', and 'Dagoth Ur is Lord, and I am his Priest'."

Yes, that all sounded wearisomely familiar. "Did he give you any idea of where to find Ilunibi?" I asked.

"It's not on our maps, ma'am, and no one here has heard of it. Maybe the locals in Gnaar Mok can tell you where to find it?"

I wasn't exactly jumping for joy at the thought of having to take on this Dagoth Gares alone where an entire patrol had failed, but something told me I wasn't likely to get any volunteers after what had happened to the last lot. Guess I'd just have to be very careful if I ran into any corprus monsters.

Based on how long it had taken me to walk to Drulene Falen's farm those two times, I guessed that it would take most of the day to reach the coast. Oh, my kingdom for a horse? I thought of setting off the next day, but decided I needed a rest after the excitement of the past week. This turned out to be a good thing, as another Blight storm struck in the early morning and raged until nightfall.

On the following day I set out for Gnaar Mok, another of those dirt-poor fishing villages that dotted the Bitter Coast. It was on a small island that could only be reached by crossing a series of narrow wooden bridges, more accurately described as 'planks'. The only building there that wasn't basically a shack was a large Hlaalu-style manor surrounded by high walls.

There weren't many people about, but I came across a Wood Elf sitting on the steps of a shack. "Welcome to Gnaar Mok, outlander," he said gloomily. "It's small, but dumpy. How may I help you?"

When I told him that I needed to find Ilunibi, he frowned. "That's what they call the old sea cave up on the north end of the island, right on Khartag Point. Don't be poking your nose in there ? someone might object."

I suspected he was right, but unfortunately I didn't have much choice about whether to 'poke my nose in'. I was far too tired to do anything about it that night, however. "I don't suppose there's anywhere to stay here?" I asked, without much hope.

"If you're House Hlaalu, you can get beds and services at Arenim Manor," he said. "Otherwise? not really."

Sighing, I went to look for a suitable tree to shelter under.

The next morning, just before dawn, I set out find the cavern of Ilunibi ? not difficult, as it was only a short way from where I'd set up camp. The ordinary-looking wooden gate at the entrance turned out to conceal a vast cavern network, tastefully decorated throughout with red candles and rotting corpses. A good deal of it seemed to be flooded, including the entrance, where I had to crawl practically through a waterfall to reach the floor of the cave. Apparently my luck was back to normal again.

There seemed to be relatively few Sixth House guards in the cave, perhaps because the previous Imperial assault had killed off most of them. Of the enemies I did face, most of them were undead ? skeletons and bonelords, nothing too tough. But one encounter was particularly disturbing.

Peering cautiously round a corner in a dimly-lit passageway, I spotted a human-like figure not far off. Its back was turned to me, so I carefully drew my bow and fired a shot. The figure let out a roar of pain and wheeled round, striding towards me with a slow but entirely steady gait.

I fired another arrow, but the thing didn't even slow down. Even as I backed round the corner to get in more shots, it kept coming, arrows sticking out of it like needles in a pincushion. My next shot hit it right in the chest, but it still lumbered on towards me, relentless. The word that came to mind was zombie.

Just as I was thinking I'd have to ditch my bow and face it up close, I saw the thing stagger and collapse to the ground just a few yards away from me. As I drew closer, I realised to my horror that it was human ? dreadfully, hideously deformed, but human. Its body was grotesquely swollen, covered with sores and strange markings, and its face appeared to be literally rotting away. Blessed Arkay, was this one of the 'corprus monsters' Raesa Pullia had described to me?

My suspicions were confirmed when I bent over the corpse and saw a few frayed scraps of clothing hanging off its ? his? ? body. Shuddering, I backed away and edged past the body, staying as far away from it as possible. The idea that this thing had once been human made it seem far more disturbing than any of the other monsters I'd seen.

I crept onwards, hoping I wouldn't run into any more of those creatures. Finally, in the heart of the maze-like cavern network, I edged round a corner and spotted another strange creature ? a humanoid figure with a sort of long trunk where its face ought to be, dressed in a priest's robe. It was standing on a raised platform in front of a set of six large bells. Could this be the 'Dagoth Gares' I'd been told about?

I ducked back round the corner and cast the Amulet of Shadows enchantment, but Gares must have already spotted me. Either that or he had some other way of sensing I was there.

"The Sixth House greets you, Lord Nerevar," he said pleasantly, as I approached with sword drawn. "Or 'Ada Ventura', as you call yourself. I am known as Dagoth Gares, priest of Ilunibi Shrine, and minister to Sixth House servants. My Lord, Dagoth Ur, has informed me of your coming ? I wish that this time you had come to honour your Lord's friendship, not to betray it."

I walked right up to him. "Okay, mate, let's just get one thing clear: I'm not Lord Nerevar, all right? And you're not going to persuade me to join your idiotic messiah cult by telling me I am, so you might as well give it up and tell me what the hell's going on here!"

He continued if he hadn't even heard me. "Lord Dagoth gives me these words to say to you, so you may give them thought. 'Once we were friends and brothers, Lord Nerevar, in peace and in war. Yet beneath Red Mountain, you struck me down as I guarded the treasure you bound me by oath to defend. But, remembering our old friendship, I would forgive you, and raise you high in my service.'"

"You're not listening, are you?" I said in exasperation. "I'm not your Lord Dagoth Ur's friend. And I can't have 'struck him down' or betrayed his friendship, because I've never met him!"

"My Lord Dagoth bids you come to Red Mountain," Gares continued, in that infuriatingly calm tone of voice. "For the friendship and honour that once you shared, he would grant you counsel and power, if only you would pledge that friendship anew. I am not your Lord Dagoth, yet I, too, would say to you... Do you come with weapons to strike me down? Or would you put away your weapon, and join me in friendship?"

Okay, now I was getting really angry. "Join you in friendship? You kill my fellow soldiers, you send a bunch of crazed monsters to attack me, and now you expect me to join you in friendship?"

"Forgive the rude welcome," he said, "but until you have declared for us, we must treat you as our enemy. Lord Dagoth would far rather have you as a friend than as an enemy ? but until you submit to him, Sixth House servants will treat you as an enemy, and try to destroy you. If you wish to be our friend, first you must go to Lord Dagoth in his citadel on Red Mountain, and make your submission."

Right. I'd had it up to here with this guy. I drew a deep breath, and stepped forward.

"Tell your Lord Dagoth," I said, "that this is my answer." And I plunged my blade deep into his chest.

To my surprise, Gares didn't make any attempt to fight back. He doubled over and fell to his knees, blood soaking through the front of his robe, and I saw a terrible smile spread across his deformed face.

"Even as my Master wills," he said hoarsely, "you shall come to him, in his flesh, and of his flesh."

As he sank to the ground, I heard him mutter some sort of incantation with his dying breath. Suddenly I began to feel very weird ? not physically weak, exactly, but dull and confused and emotionally drained. Damn it, he must have cursed me.

I drank a few restoration potions and felt a lot better. Searching Dagoth Gares' body, I found a letter apparently from Dagoth Ur himself:

Lord Nerevar Indoril, Hai Resdaynia

My Lord, Friend, and Companion

Once we were friends and brothers, Lord Nerevar, in peace and in war. No houseman ever served you better, or more faithfully. Much that I did was at your command, at great cost to myself, and my honour.

Yet beneath Red Mountain, you struck me down as I guarded the treasure you bound me by oath to defend. It was a cruel blow, a bitter betrayal, to be felled by your hand.

But, remembering our old friendship, I would forgive you, and raise you high in my service. The Sixth House was not dead, but only sleeping. Now we wake from our long dream, coming forth to free Morrowind of foreign rulers and divine pretenders. When the land is swept clean of false friends and greedy thieves, the children of Veloth will build anew a garden of plenty in this blighted wasteland.

Come to Red Mountain, old friend. For the fellowship and honour that once we shared, I would grant you counsel and power, if only you would pledge that friendship anew. The path to Red Mountain is long, and filled with danger, but if you are worthy, you will find there wisdom, a firm friend, and all the power you need to set the world aright.

As ever, your respectful servant and loyal friend,

Lord Voryn Dagoth, Dagoth Ur

How very strange. Either this was some sort of bizarre psychological warfare, or? for some reason, Dagoth Ur genuinely did believe I was his old 'friend and companion' Nerevar. And that Nerevar had betrayed him somehow, if the letter was to be believed. But wait? wasn't he the one who was supposed to have betrayed the Dunmer?

Oh well, this wasn't the time to worry about things like that. I shoved the letter into my pack, deciding to show it to Caius when I got back to him. No doubt he'd try to insist it proved I was the Nerevarine, but I wasn't buying it. And he was about to learn that I wasn't willing to play his silly game any longer ? not now that I had the means to leave Morrowind.

Don't think that too loud.

:goodjob:

Another excellent chapter, Helena, just as I expected. Nothing I can say but 'well done and I look forward to the next chapter'.

:goodjob:

Wooo! Ive always hated Gares! Cuz I couldnt 1 hit him!

Love this fan-fic. You rule, Helena.

Chapter 20: Off To See The Wizard

Before going back to Balmora, I searched the chamber for anything that might be of use. There were a couple of troughs containing some useful potions and scrolls, but the real find was the pair of heavy armoured gauntlets I found lying by the side of one of the troughs.

I noticed that the right glove had a Fortify Strength enchantment on it (I recognised it well, as it was from the Restoration school of magic). It was very heavy, much more so than my own steel gauntlets ? but when I put it on, I suddenly felt as strong as an ox. I attempted to lift up the stone trough and found that I could easily tip it half way over. With the gauntlet off, I could barely shift the thing at all.

The left gauntlet, which had a Fortify Agility enchantment, made me feel like I could leap tall buildings in a single bound. Wow, what a find! I'd have to be careful wearing these, though ? with that powerful strength enchantment, I could practically knock someone over just by tapping them on the shoulder.

Unfortunately, by the time I was ready to travel back to Balmora, I was starting to feel ill again. It looked like Dagoth Gares had struck me with some kind of disease, rather than just a temporary curse effect. Taking a Cure Common Disease potion didn't work, so I realised it was probably one of the Blight diseases I'd been warned about.

Well, I could deal with it later. For the moment I just wanted to report back to Caius, hand in my resignation, and be done with him and the Blades once and for all.

I tried to cast Almsivi Intervention, but I was finding it so hard to concentrate that I kept making mistakes. By the time I finally succeeded, after nearly a dozen failed attempts, I was snarling with frustration. I was vaguely aware that I ought to be happy ? I was one step closer to freedom, after all ? but instead I felt pissed-off, irritable and very much on edge. Caius had better not give me any crap this time, I thought.

As I walked through the streets of Balmora, I noticed that I was getting some rather strange looks from a few passers-by. "You got a problem?" I growled at one of them. He backed away hastily, but the encounter did nothing to improve my foul mood. When I reached Caius' place and he opened his door to me, I shoved right past him into the house without even a 'hello'.

"Dagoth Gares is dead," I said, before he had the chance to speak. "Here, I found this letter on him. But he's cursed me with some sort of disease, so ? why are you looking at me like that?"

Caius opened his mouth to speak, but hesitated. "Ada," he said very carefully, "I think you may have corprus disease."

"Corprus disease?" I said sharply. "I don't have corprus disease. What do you mean, I have corprus disease?"

"Give me your shield." I handed it to him, bewildered, and he turned it round so that I could see my face in the polished surface.

I stared the distorted reflection, trying to work out what was wrong with it, and suddenly my blood ran cold. It wasn't just the reflection that was distorted ? right there, on my face and neck, were several distinct marks and faint signs of swellings. The same kind I'd seen on that hideous, shambling creature in the Ilunibi cavern.

"I have corprus disease!" I wailed.

Caius nodded grimly. "It's a rare disease that usually drives victims mad, and causes terrible, deformed growths on the body. I don't know of any cure, but ? "

"OH DEAR GODS!!"

"Wait a second, Ada," he said. "I may have some good news in that department. I canvassed my informants for possible treatments, just in case you contracted the disease during your mission ? "

My mouth fell open. "You? you did what? You knew this was going to happen!"

"Well, not exactly, but I did suspect that perhaps ? "

"You [censored] bastard!" I screeched. "You? you s'wit! You n'wah!" He burst out laughing, which wasn't quite the effect I'd intended. "You knew I'd catch corprus! In fact, I bet you planned it all along!"

I grabbed a metal tankard from the table and hurled it at him. He ducked. I threw a fork and a wooden plate, which he also neatly dodged. I burst into tears.

"Look where you've got me!" I sobbed. "You and your stupid Neveragaine crap! Now I have corprus disease, and I'm going to turn into a disgusting zombie-creature and then die, and it's ALL! YOUR! FAULT!"

I continued to yell at him, calling him every name I could think of in several different languages, until finally I had to give up from sheer exhaustion. "Finished?" he asked. "Good. Now, do you want to get cured of this disease?"

I hiccupped a few times, trying unsuccessfully to wipe away the tears and snot from my face. "Yes!"

"Very well. As I was saying, I canvassed my informants for possible treatments. I learned from Fast Eddie that your best chance of getting cured is Divayth Fyr, an ancient Telvanni wizard who runs a Corprusarium for victims of corprus."

"A Telvanni? Are you crazy?"

"Take this Dwemer artifact," he said, handing me something that looked like a piece of alchemical equipment. "I've been told he collects them, and a gift may sweeten his disposition. Here's 1,000 drakes for expenses, and a couple of Levitation potions ? I hear you'll need them in Telvanni towers. Go to Tel Fyr, and get that corprus disease cured."

I watched, still glowering, as he marked the tower of Tel Fyr on my map. "All right, Caius," I told him, my voice trembling with rage. "I'll go. But this is the last time I ever do anything for you, you hear me? The LAST! TIME!"

I marched to the door and yanked it open, then turned back. "And PUT A SHIRT ON!" I roared, before slamming the door so hard that it practically flew off its hinges. The bang it made was so loud that it echoed down the entire street.

Then I ran. I ran through the grotty back-streets of eastern Balmora, over the bridge, up the main street with all the guilds and shops, and into the Mages' Guild. I hurtled down the steps two at a time into the basemant, where Masalinie Merian performed her Guild Guide service. "Get me to Sadrith Mora now!" I barked.

Mesalinie backed away hastily, her face chalk-white. "Ada? you have corprus disease. That's a death sentence. I'm sorry, but? please, just stay away from me."

"Just do it!" She obeyed so quickly that I didn't even have time to reach for my purse.

I hit the ground running the instant I materialised in the Wolverine Hall Guild, ignoring the astonished expressions of the mages there. "Can't stop," I yelled over my shoulder. "Corprus disease."

I rushed down the steps out of the Hall and through the courtyard, across the bridge, and down a steep slope to the water's edge. Caius's scrawlings on my map showed the tower of Tel Fyr lying on one of a chain of small islands to the southwest. There was no boat.

By now we were well into the month of Frostfall, and the weather was getting distinctly colder and wetter, but that was the least of my worries right now. I dumped my armour unceremoniously in a heap by the waterside and frantically cast and re-cast my Water Walking spell until I finally got it right, then pelted across the water in the direction of Tel Fyr, only stopping to gulp down potions of magicka restoration and re-cast the spell. When the inevitable happened and I plunged into the freezing water half-way to the next island, I spat out mouthfuls of salty brine and half-swam, half-waded to the shore, tears rolling down my cheeks.

By the time I dragged myself ashore on the island of Tel Fyr, I was sobbing with exhaustion and despair and my lungs felt as if they were ready to burst. How had I come to this? Only this morning, my future had seemed so rosy; now here I was, standing on a lonely shore in one of the bleakest parts of Vvardenfell, stricken with an incurable disease and facing an extended stay as a patient in Divayth Fyr's 'Corprusarium'. At best.

What if he didn't manage to cure me? I shuddered violently, remembering the state of that corprus victim in Ilunibi. No, anything was preferable to a fate like that ? even death. I gripped the hilt of my sword, slightly comforted by the thought that if the worst came to the worst, I had another way out.

I had to squeeze the water out of my clothes before entering Fyr's mushroom tower. The narrow passageways, low ceilings and wet, fleshy walls somehow seemed even more disturbing than usual, and I had no idea which way to go. I spotted a Dunmer woman standing in a room just by the entrance, and paused to speak to her.

"Have you come to plunder the dungeon?" she asked, before I could say anything. "Or did you come to see Divayth Fyr? I'm Beyte Fyr, his wife... well, one of them. Sort of."

I frowned. I was finding it quite hard to think straight at this point, but that last part definitely hadn't sounded right. "One of them?"

"Yes. Well, not 'wife' in the 'married' sense, but... you know. 'Paramour.' 'Consort.' Something like that." She shrugged. "It's a bit awkward, really. Because... well... he made us, too, so, though we aren't really his daughters or anything?"

"His daughters?" Good grief. I'd heard about the kind of things people got up to in these out-of-the-way places, but...

"Well? it's like we were his daughters. Because he made us. You see?"

I didn't see, and now I was struggling to recall what I'd come here for in the first place. "I'd like to see Divayth Fyr, please," I said at last.

"He's up above in his study. You can't get up there unless you can fly." She gave me a hard look. "You can levitate, can't you?"

"Er? yes." Well, technically I could. With a potion.

I followed Beyte's directions to the living quarters, where there was supposed to be a way up to Divayth's study, but I just couldn't find it. I spent several minutes wandering around aimlessly before finally looking up and spotting a small, circular hole in the ceiling of the passage. The room above looked to be a long way up, but I had to trust to the potions Caius had given me. One potion allowed me to levitate for just long enough to reach the upper tower, where I spotted an elderly male Dunmer ? presumably Divayth Fyr ? standing by a desk in an adjoining room.

For all my distress, I couldn't help being curious to see what this 'ancient' wizard would look like. As it turned out, he didn't really look that old at all, apart from being one of the few Dunmer I'd seen with white hair ? if he'd been human, I'd have guessed him to be in his seventies. I noticed that he also wore almost a full set of Daedric armour, not something I'd have expected to see on an aged wizard.

"Well, what a pleasure!" he exclaimed, as soon as I entered the room. "A visitor! An entertaining diversion! Come to consult the great Divayth Fyr?" Unlike most Dunmer I'd met, he spoke Tamrielic without a trace of an accent. He could easily have passed for a well-bred gentleman from the Heartlands.

"Yes. Um, I brought you a gift," I added, suddenly remembering the Dwemer piece. "It's a Dwemer? something."

"A gift for me? How thoughtful! And shrewd." He took it from me with a wink. "I suppose you know I am a collector, and that such a gift is bound to please me. So, why have you tried to butter me up? Want to plunder the dungeon? Or leer at my daughters?"

I was a little taken aback by that last one. "Er?"

"Not bad for something born in a jar, eh?" he said with a wink. "Alfe, Beyte, Delte and Uupse. Not daughters, really ? a little project, a side benefit of my researches into corprus disease. Made them myself, from my own flesh. Quite a comfort to me in my old age? hah, hah."

I stared at him, feeling slightly dizzy all of a sudden. Gods help me, this guy was my only hope. My entire life lay in the hands of a crazed Telvanni mage who created 'daughters' from his own flesh and then slept with them.

With a great effort, I managed to pull myself together. "Actually, sera, I came here because I have corprus disease. I? was hoping you might be able to help me?" I couldn't keep the note of pleading out of my voice.

"Ah, yes. I see now." He got up from his seat and walked over to me in order to examine me more closely.

"The magical principles of corprus disease are elusive and miraculous," he stated ponderously, prodding at one of the swellings on my neck. "I'm persuaded that it is in some manner the curse or blessing of a god ? perhaps both. The victim, of course, cannot appreciate the marvellous nature of corprus ? " well, you don't say! " ? but to a wizard, it is a profound and glorious mystery, a riddle worth a long lifetime of study."

Gods, I couldn't believe this. Typical bloody wizard! You come to them with a hideous flesh-eating disease that leaves you half-crazed, swollen up like a balloon and covered in weeping sores, and all they can say is "oh, how fascinating."

"Did you know that corprus makes you immune to disease?" he continued, oblivious to my growing terror. "Have you ever heard of the prophecies of the Nerevarine? Ashlanders say the Nerevarine will be immune to disease. I've always thought that maybe I have the Nerevarine down in my Corprusarium, and I don't even know it." He chuckled softly. "The Nerevarine is a fat, disgusting corprus monster, and mad as a marsh rat. Wouldn't that be funny?"

I drew a shaky breath, trying to fight down a rising sense of hysteria. "Ser Fyr," I begged. "Please. If you have any idea of how to cure this ? any way at all ? then please, please tell me about it. I'll do anything you want. Join House Telvanni. Please." What the hell, I thought, I'd already tried the other two; might as well make it a hat-trick!

Fyr chuckled again. "Join my House? I'm not sure you would? fit in, my friend. Best stick to Redoran."

How the heck did he know I was a Redoran? Oh well, it hardly mattered at this point. "Something else, then," I begged. "Please?"

"Well. I've got a potion." He paused. "In theory, it should cure corprus. Doesn't work, though ? probably kill you. Killed all my test subjects. But you've got nothing to lose, have you?"

I didn't waste even a second thinking about my answer. "Fine. I'll take it."

He raised a finger. "Before I give it to you, though, I want you to look around below in the Corprusarium. Know what's in store if you don't take the potion. And while you're there, I want you to pick up a pair of boots from a victim, calls himself Yagrum Bagarn. Bring the boots back, and then you can have the potion."

A pair of boots? That was all he wanted in return for possibly saving my life?

"Okay," I said. "I'll do it. I'll go now. Er? what was the guy's name again?"

When I got down to the Corprusarium entrance, in the lower part of the tower, I found it guarded by an Argonian in steel armour. "I am Vistha-Kai, Warden of the Corprusarium," he hissed. "I am here to warn you: do not harm the inmates. If you come to plunder the dungeon, you must endure their attacks, and take your chances with me, their Warden and Protector."

"I'm not here to plunder the bloody dungeon," I snarled, close to tears again (looking back, I realise the corprus was causing me some fairly violent mood swings). "I just came to collect some boots for Divayth Fyr."

He shrugged. "Well, I will not tolerate you adding to their suffering. Indeed, they are brutal and ferocious, and they will kill you if they can. But you are their guests, and you may not harm them, or you will answer to me."

"Okay, whatever." What exactly was I was supposed to do to stop them attacking me, then? Oh, right? I had a Chameleon amulet, didn't I.

The inside of the Corprusarium was the closest thing I'd ever seen to a living nightmare. All around me those deranged, bloated creatures lurched and shambled about, wandering aimlessly back and forth with only the occasional groan or roar of pain. And yet, when I looked at them closely I could see that some of them were still semi-rational, and vaguely aware of what was happening to them. Nothing on Nirn, I thought, could possibly be worse than that.

Deep within the Corprusarium I came across a small secluded area with a wardrobe, a cluttered table, and some chests and cushions. There were two people there ? one was a Dunmer woman in bonemold armour, presumably another of Divayth Fyr's daughters? wives? whatever. The other was a very short and incredibly fat man, who seemed to have no legs at all, just an enormous belly. He was sitting on something that looked like a giant mechanical spider, and his body was hideously disfigured with corprus ? but as I drew closer I realised that he was very much conscious and alert.

"Excuse me," I said hesitantly, forgetting that my Chameleon spell was still active. "Are you Yagrum Bagarn, by any chance?"

"What? Where? oh, there you are." He sighed with relief. "Please, do try not to startle me like that. Anyway, what brings you to visit Yagrum Bagarn, Master Crafter, and Last Living Dwarf?"

I stared at him, feeling a little dizzy. "Last living Dwarf?"

He nodded. "This is how I style myself. I do not know for a fact that I am the last, but in my travels thousands of years ago, I never encountered another. And since I have been here, I often ask Lord Fyr, but he says he has never heard a credible rumor of another Dwemer ? on Tamriel, or in any Outer Realm."

"But? but that's?" My voice trailed off as I remembered that no one actually knew what had happened to the Dwarves ? for all I knew, there could still be some around. Certainly I had to admit that he didn't look like any race I was familiar with.

"Anyway, you're here for the Dwemer boots," he continued, taking up a pair from the cushion beside him. "Tell my gracious Keeper that I have done what I could ? only a Dwemer magecrafter could have done so much. But only idiots could have created these boots. It shames my race that we must be judged by the works of such lack-wit blunderers."

"Uhh?" I croaked, completely lost for words. I just wasn't in any state to cope with this right now. If this guy really was a Dwarf ? which I still doubted, to be honest ? this could have been the opportunity of a lifetime, the chance to solve a mystery that had plagued scholars for millennia. But I simply couldn't handle any more of this craziness; I felt like I was going mad already.

I took the boots and hurried back through the Corprusarium and the tower, pausing only to re-cast the Chameleon enchantment. When I got back to Fyr I found him sitting at his desk, scribbling some notes. "Here," I gasped, flinging the boots onto the desk. "Now give me the potion. Please."

"Very well," he said. "I'll give you the potion, on the following condition: you must drink it here, before my eyes. It should act immediately, and I need to observe you very carefully. Agreed?"

"Yes, yes, just give it to me! Please!"

Fyr took a small vial full of dark liquid from his strongbox and handed it to me. Here goes nothing, I thought, as I tore out the stopper and gulped it down. Talk about kill or cure!

The taste was utterly, indescribably revolting. I actually had to squeeze my lips shut with my fingers to stop myself from spitting the mixture out and force myself to swallow it. Nothing happened for a second or two; then, suddenly, I felt a faint tingling sensation in my scalp. As I stood there I could feel it slowly spreading throughout my body, right down to the tips of my fingers and toes.

"What's happening?" I said anxiously. "Is it doing anything?" Well, at least it hadn't killed me yet.

Fyr hesitated, a very strange expression on his face. "Goodness?" Suddenly he leapt to his feet. "Good grief! Look! Look! It's... WORKING!"

He rushed over to me and grabbed hold of my shoulder, peering closely into my face. He poked and prodded me in several different places, spun me around, made me open my mouth so he could examine my tongue, and finally let me go.

"Amazing," he breathed. "I think it worked. No sign of the disease at all. Of course, you still have corprus disease, just like I planned ? "

"WHAT?"

"But all your symptoms are gone," he continued blithely. "Marvellous. I'll go try it out on some of the more desperate inmates. But I'll answer any questions you have before you go."

For several seconds I hesitated, unsure whether to believe him or not. I cast a suspicious glance down at my hands, arms and legs, all of which looked healthy. Gingerly I patted at my face and neck; the swellings were gone. The fog seemed to have lifted from my mind, and I could think clearly again.

I took a deep breath. "Okay, so you say I still have corprus. What does that mean, practically? Is it still possible for me to infect other people?"

"No, but the positive effects of the disease are still active. Increased strength, for example, and immunity to all other diseases. And you'll live forever, barring accidents."

I was starting to feel slightly dizzy again. Had I heard that right? "Live forever? So? so you're saying I'm immortal?"

"As I said? barring accidents."

Immortality and immunity to disease? why did that sound familiar? Lines of poetry flashed through my mind: Neither Blight nor age shall harm him, The Curse-of-flesh before him flies?

I swallowed hard, feeling a slight shiver run down my spine. "You're sure I'm not still infectious?" I asked, trying to keep my mind on the here-and-now.

"Yes, yes," he said, waving a hand impatiently. "You're completely cured. Now, will that be all? I don't wish to be rude, but I have many other matters to attend to."

"Okay. Well? thanks, I guess," I said. "For everything. I don't know how I can ever repay you."

"Not at all." He lifted the Dwemer artifact I'd brought him from his desk and placed it carefully onto a shelf. "Always a pleasure to find a new subject for study? Now, be off with you."

I have to admit I was pretty relieved that he wasn't going to hold me to my promise of joining House Telvanni. Now that my mind was clear again, I could think of a thousand reasons why that would be a really bad idea. Let's face it, Fyr was right: I wouldn't fit in. And besides, I rather liked the Redorans, even if they were a bit stingy about actually paying me for the work I did for them.

I left the room slowly, deep in thought, and very nearly fell down the narrow chute leading to the lower part of the tower. It was then that I realised I didn't actually have any way to get down, short of jumping (and probably breaking a few limbs in the process). Caius had only given me three Rising Force potions, and I'd drunk them all.

I glanced back nervously at Divayth Fyr, who was busy writing at his desk. The last thing I wanted was to have to go back to him and say "sorry, but I can't get down." Luckily, at that moment I spotted one of his 'daughters' emerging from another room.

"Um, excuse me," I said. "Sorry to bother you, but, er..."

She glanced from me to the hole in the floor, and sighed. "You flew up here using a Rising Force potion, didn't you?"

"That's right," I said, trying not to wince.

"And now you don't have any way to get down, do you?"

"Um? no."

She rolled her eyes. "Another genius here, I see."

"Look, give me a break," I mumbled, crimson with embarrassment. "I was dying of corprus disease when I came up here, can you blame me for being a bit distracted?"

Ms. Fyr narrowed her eyes, clearly unimpressed. "Do you want to get down there or not?"

"Yes. Please," I said hastily.

She raised her hands towards me and mumbled some words in Daedric. There was a flash of white light. "Okay, I've cast a Slowfall spell on you. It won't last long, so get down there quickly before it wears off."

I'd no idea whether it really was a Slowfall spell she'd just cast on me, but it wasn't like I had much choice. Gritting my teeth, I stepped over the edge of the hole, and found myself floating gently down towards the ground. I landed with a slight bump just as the spell wore off.

I emerged from the tower into the weak evening light. Was it really only that same morning that I'd set out for Ilunibi? It felt like days had passed since then. As I walked towards the coast, dreading the thought of having to water-walk my way back again, I spotted something I hadn't noticed before: a small ferry-boat by a dock in the distance.

Why hadn't anyone told me there was a boat? Then again, they'd probably have refused to take me anyway while I was suffering from corprus. I walked over to the boat to speak to the shipmaster, who turned out to be an Imperial woman like me.

"I can't bring people to the island from Sadrith Mora," she explained. "I can only take them back again."

Was I right in thinking that made no sense whatsoever, or was it just a hangover from the corprus disease? Nope, I was right: it didn't make any sense.

The shipmaster tried to make conversation as we travelled back to Sadrith Mora, but I wasn't really in the mood for talking. I was still finding it hard to take in what Divayth Fyr had told me about the effects of corprus. To be honest, I wasn't even sure I wanted to live forever ? I couldn't help remembering a tale I'd once read, of a legendary swordsman who was unable to die. Would I end up like him, wandering the whole world and fighting everyone I met, desperately seeking someone to put me out of my misery?

And what was more, I couldn't get that verse from The Seven Visions out of my mind. I hadn't paid any attention to the 'born on a certain day' crap, but to have become ageless and immune to disease on top of that, and the letter from Dagoth Ur? it was hard to dismiss all this as just coincidence. Could it possibly be that??

No, it was still ridiculous. Even if I was Nerevar's reincarnation, and somehow managed to persuade the Dunmer to believe this, wasn't the Nerevarine supposed to drive the Imperials out of Morrowind? Well, screw that. I'm not what you'd call hugely patriotic, but there was no way I was going to declare war against my own people.

It's wasn't my problem, I told myself. They'd just have to? wait for him to be reincarnated into someone else, or something. (I tried not to think about the fact that I'd probably have to die before this could happen.)

I found my armour lying just where I had left it, and spent some time cleaning and polishing it back at Wolverine Hall before returning to the Mages' Guild to teleport back to Balmora. Iniel, the High Elf woman who acted as Guild Guide there, looked at me with deep suspicion. "Didn't you have corprus disease just a few hours ago?"

"That's right," I said. "I got better."

It was very late when I arrived back in Balmora, and I was dead tired ? but I decided to go to Caius' house anyway, just in case he was waiting for me. Turned out I was right: when I reached his house I saw a dim light in the window and realised that he'd sat up for me all evening. A wave of guilt swept over me as I remembered how I'd yelled at him earlier.

"Ah, Ada," he said, as soon as he opened the door to me. "So? Divayth Fyr managed to help you, did he?" I could swear I saw a trace of relief in his eyes. Could it be that he himself was feeling slightly guilty about the mess he'd got me into?

"Yes. Er, Caius," I said gruffly. "About the things I said earlier? I just wanted to say that I'm very sorry. I didn't mean any of it, I was just a bit? over-emotional. What with the corprus and all."

He waved this away. "Never mind that. I'm very happy to see you've been cured. But I've had a bit of bad news, I'm afraid." He paused. "I've been recalled to the Imperial City."

"Sorry to hear it," I said politely, though privately I couldn't help being delighted. This could only make it easier for me to leave Morrowind myself. "Er, how will this affect me, exactly?"

"You'll be promoted to Operative, and will head the Blades here in Vvardenfell until I return," he said. "I've only waited here to give you your final orders before I go."

I nearly fell over. "What? Caius, is this a joke?"

"Not at all. I'm quite serious."

"But I don't know how to be a spymaster!"

"There's nothing to it," he said, shrugging. "Each agent has his own assignment, and reports directly to Cyrodiil. You're promoted to Operative mostly to preserve your independence."

I gaped at him, fury welling up inside me. So much for feeling guilty for all the names I'd called him! So this was his plan to keep me in Morrowind, was it? Well, I wasn't falling for it this time.

I drew in a deep breath, and looked straight at him. "No."

"No?"

"No. I won't do this, Caius. I told you that last mission was the last thing I'd ever do for you, and I meant it."

"But surely, after all that's happened, you must see ? "

"No! N-O! Look, Caius," I said, "all this Nerevarine stuff was okay at first, but it's gone beyond a joke. If Divayth Fyr hadn't happened to have the right potion, I'd be rotting in his Corprusarium right now. I'm not playing any longer. Soon as I save up enough money, I'm going straight back to Cyrodiil."

Caius regarded me doubtfully, rubbing his chin. Apparently it was just beginning to sink in that I actually meant what I was saying. "Ada," he said carefully, "I know it isn't easy to accept that you're the Nerevarine, but ? "

"I won't do it," I said. "You can't make me."

He shook his head slowly. "The Emperor will not be pleased."

"The Emperor can kiss my ? " I broke off, trying to think of a way to finish that sentence that wouldn't get me killed. "I'm sorry, Caius, but no. Even the Emperor would have to admit that I've more than paid off my debt to him by now. I am not doing it, and that's my final answer."

He said nothing. "Well, goodbye," I said at last. "I hope everything goes well for you back in Cyrodiil. Blessings of Akatosh, Caius."

Caius remained silent. I sighed, shrugged, and left the house without another word.

As I walked back to the Fighters' Guild, I felt as if a huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders. Sure, it was a shame about the argument with Caius, but still? I was free. Finally free. No more crazy cults, no more prophecies, no more trips out to the back of beyond to con a bunch of Ashlanders into accepting me as their personal saviour.

By the time I reached the Guild I was so tired that I was ready to collapse. I barely even had the energy to strip off my damp, muddy clothes before falling into bed, dropping off to sleep almost the second my head touched the pillow. Unfortunately, I didn't get to sleep for long.

Interesting chapter.
My own char has just been assigned the Ilunibi quest, but she's doing some quests for the Mage's Guild first. She's taking Caius at his word that she should build up her strength and improve her skills before doing it.

"The Emperor can kiss my ? " I broke off, trying to think of a way to finish that sentence that wouldn't get me killed.

Or 'promoted' to his harem...

:rofl:

That's the trouble with female adventurers swearing male oaths!

How I have loved this, Helena. What with her breakdown and hysterics in Caius's room ( I was in hysterics myself) and her yelling 'can't stop now I have corprus' as she runs past...

I'm still giggling now.

Thanks, Helena, for the gift of laughter you have brought me.

AND all novice writers should study this thread for the way you make dialogue sound so natural. For each and every character.

:goodjob: Helena!

:rofl:

A nice read, Helena.

Aww, thanks, Foxy B) Nice to see you here again; I was worried that my complete ignorance of anything combat-related had caused you to stop reading And thanks to everyone else as well.

I haven't played any further than Seyda Neen, so didn't want to continue reading this - but couldn't stop! I am only up to chapter 5 but have added this to my favorites so I can get back to it when I have more time! Reading your story is a really enjoyable experience, your character keeps me rolling laughing at the things she says and thinks! EX:

"Morrowind?" I squeaked. "I don't want to go to Morrowind!"
...does it really have to be Morrowind? I mean, how about Valenwood? I always wanted to go to Valenwood."

"I seem to have dropped my, er? comb? somewhere in here. I don't suppose you've seen it, have you?"

"moving in such an exaggeratedly 'sneaky' way that I wondered he didn't alert the whole village."

"One single day I'd been in Morrowind, and already I'd killed four people and broken the law at least twice"

"To be honest, I wasn't sure I liked the idea of bumping into God down the local tavern"

" I actually found myself wondering how I could introduce the subject without causing offence: "You know, I think you'd look really nice in yellow?"

"You could barely turn around in that place without bumping into a member of the Emperor's super-secret intelligence service. How they managed to maintain their cover was beyond me;"

I love your writing style and your character just makes you want to keep reading to see what she will say next! Awesome story! I will keep reading it in spite of the spoilers - but this leads me to a plea. Have you written one on Oblivion yet? Will you? I am dying to read it if and when you do!

Again, that was excellent, Helena. I think this fan-fic is going to be my vote for best of the year once the awards come.

Seriously, it's been going on ever since the beginning of 2009 and has remained excellent throughout. A very big well done!

"You can levitate, can't you?" (Helena Original)

"Yes, I'm full of levity" (Foxy addition)

:rofl: :rofl:


Sorry...my dear...


That line was... just... begging to be used...

Oh my dear aunt...


:rofl:

Glad you liked it, mALX1! Unfortunately I haven't written any Oblivion stories, and probably won't do so for quite a while (if ever) - I'm far too busy with this one at the moment. Here's http://www.fanfiction.net/s/5042979/1/Shadowstep_Dead_and_Hating_It, though.


I'm honoured... but can you vote for stories that aren't finished yet? Because it probably won't be.

Foxy: I doubt that Ada even knows the word 'levity', frankly.

I read the start of this story long ago... I finish reading it now and I have a single sentence to say:

OMFG THIS IS A GREAT WRITTEN STORY THAT DESERVES THE BEST AWARD EVER GREAT WORK WRITE MORE PLEASE OMG THAT IS GREAT!

:P

I just finished Shadowstep, then finished rolling on the floor! I am addicted to reading anything you write now, so please, if you have written anything else - please let me know! Meanwhile I am going to get back to finishing reading Neveragaine - you ROCK!!

I've been reading and enjoying this for quite some time now. I must say, you have a terrific lead character - soo personable. The kind of person I'd be happy sharing a pint and swapping stories with. You mix everything together really well too. Humour, emotion, action... it's very impressive. Especially impressive when you consider how many years the game has been out and how well known the story is - yet you make it seem fresh and exciting once again. Great job!

I await your next installment with something approaching glee

If you dont like this story, you deserved to be burned. Like a heritict to the temple.

Most of the fanfics I've written are for the game Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic. You can find some of them http://hawk.kotorfanmedia.com/user/916/track, including a full-length scriptfic parody (scroll down to the bottom of the page). The rest can be found under my ff.net profile (unfortunately, I never got around to finishing some of them). Just to clarify, I didn't write the 'Shadowstep' fic: that was written by a friend of mine.

To everyone else, thanks again for all the kind remarks. And now I'd better stop replying, since I'd like to get Ada to the Cavern of the Incarnate before this thread hits post limit...

Back in my English teacher days, I used to talk to the students about the characteristics of a "well-crafted story." The anology I used was cabinetry- you can tell a really fine piece of furniture because you can't see how the maker put it together- it is seamless. This story absolutely fits that definition. The writing is crisp, clear, and readable. Ada is a wonderfully appealing character- her flaws make her even more likeable- for example, her headlong enthusiasm for joining guilds without really thinking about the consequences.

The humor that permeates the story is an added bonus- and it is devilish difficult to pull off consistently over a long piece of writing. (Dying is easy, comedy is hard). Then add the limited perspective allowed by first-person just to make things even more interesting?. And there are the small flourishes that breathe life into the story of Morrowind and make it your own- Ada touching the statue of Akatosh in Ebonheart for luck? her interest in theater? etc.

I could go on gushing for several more paragraphs (or pages), but will instead leave it with this:

It is brilliant, it is beautiful, it is funny. The only thing wrong with it is that it isn't finished yet. Thank you so much for sharing your vision and talent with your humble readers.

Helena,
Sorry to join you so late. I see your reputation is well-deserved. I started TES with Oblivion and never played Morrowind, but you know what? With the way you write it, doesn't matter a bit. This is sooo wonderful! Call me a new fan. :icecream:

Chapter 21: The Plot Thickens

Only a short while later ? it can't have been more than an hour after I fell asleep ? I was awakened by a very strange noise, a sort of low-pitched moan. I opened my eyes and almost screamed in terror as I saw a not-quite-human shape looming over me in the dim light. I couldn't make out its features, but I could very clearly see the silhouette of the large, spiked club it held in its hand. As I watched, momentarily frozen with shock, it grasped the weapon with both hands and raised it above its head, poised to strike.

Acting purely on instinct, I flung back the covers and kicked the mysterious figure squarely in the stomach. As it staggered backwards with a grunt of pain, I leapt to my feet, grabbed my sword ? which I always kept by me in case of emergencies ? and viciously slashed at the creature's face, chest and stomach. It didn't bleed, it? crumbled.

"What the hell's going on?" The noise had woken several people in the other bunks, and a couple of guards had rushed to see what was happening, bringing lamps. "What is that thing?"

'That thing', which was now lying on the floor in a messy heap, was a humanoid figure wearing nothing but a loincloth. Its flesh was a strange powdery grey, as if it were made of ash ? in fact, it appeared to me that it was made of ash. The scariest thing about it was that it seemed to have no face ? just a burnt-out hole in place of its eyes and nose, and a large, curved gash where its mouth ought to be. I didn't have a clue what it was, but I had a pretty good idea who could tell me.

Wasting no time, I flung on some clothes and hurried out into the streets, leaving the others to clean up the mess. I ran at full tilt through the streets to Caius' house, where I pounded on the door and banged at the windows, not caring who heard me. "Caius! Open up!"

About thirty seconds later, a sleepy-looking Caius answered the door in only his underclothes (ugh). "Ada?" he asked, stifling a yawn. "What is it?"

I leaned against the doorframe, panting heavily. "I've just been attacked in my bed by some sort of ash? zombie!"

"Ah," he said, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "Yes. I thought something like this might happen."

"Whaaa??"

"Come in." He drew me into the house, shut the door, and steered me towards a chair. "Obviously I didn't know this would happen, exactly. But I knew the Sixth House weren't likely to give up that easily."

"What do you mean?"

Caius sighed. "They know who you are now, Ada. Remember that letter you showed me? You may not believe you're the Nerevarine, but Dagoth Ur certainly does. And as long as you're alive, you're still a threat to him."

"So what shall I do?" I was starting to panic.

"Well, for a start, I'd stop sleeping in town from now on. Makes it too easy for them to find you. Maybe camping out in the backcountry is safer."

I felt a painful throbbing in my left temple. "So you're saying I can't even sleep in a proper bed now?!"

"Up to you, of course. Or you could try taking the fight to them; they might have a base nearby."

I winced. I didn't even want to think about taking on any more Sixth House bases after what I'd been through in the last one. What was more, I had a horrible feeling I knew the answer to my next question.

"And? if I leave Morrowind?" I said weakly. "Will he still think I'm a threat?"

"I don't know."

I looked at him with deep suspicion. "You're not just saying that to keep me here in Morrowind, are you?"

"No, Ada, I'm not. I honestly have no idea."

I'd have loved to believe he was lying, but it was no use. When I'd had corprus I'd managed to convince myself that this was all part of Caius' clever schemes, but now that I could think rationally again, I realised that this was impossible. Even Caius couldn't summon up Sixth House creatures at his convenience just to punish me for disobeying his orders. Unless he was somehow in league with them, and? no, that was even more far-fetched.

If I'd only stood my ground, things might have turned out very differently. But I couldn't help it; I simply didn't have the energy to fight any more. I was exhausted, bewildered, sleep-deprived, aching all over from the previous day's 'adventure', and all I wanted now was to curl up in a ball and sleep for the rest of the month, or preferably the year. I was spent.

"All right, Caius," I said wearily, flopping back in my chair. "I give up. You win. If I have to fulfill the stupid prophecies to get Dagoth Ur off my back, that's what I'll do. Just tell me what needs to be done, and I'll do it."

"Very well." He seemed wide awake all of a sudden. "Mehra Milo says the Dissident Priests do have records of Ashlander Nerevarine prophecies, and she has an idea how we might get a look at them. Go to the Hall of Wisdom and Justice and get Mehra to help you find the lost prophecies, then take them to Nibani Maesa and follow her advice. I can't help you from now on, I'm afraid."

"That's all?"

He nodded. "Just remember that Mehra's being watched. If something has gone wrong, find her private quarters; she'll leave you a message there under the code word 'amaya'. Oh, and one more thing?"

"Yes?"

"Just a little advice," he said. "You're no fool, Ada. The days of the Empire are almost over."

I swallowed hard. "Things are really that bad?"

Caius nodded, his expression sombre. "When the Emperor dies, nine hells are going to break loose. Forget about the Imperial City ? think locally. Worry about the Sixth House and Dagoth Ur, and squabbles between the Great Houses and the colonists. The rest of the political nonsense doesn't amount to a plate of scuttle."

I'd forgotten to bring my journal, so he had to everything down for me on a scrap of paper. "Take these blacks," he said just before I left, handing me a neatly-folded black shirt and pair of pants. So he did have a shirt! "You can use the house until I return, and I won't be needing this ring while I'm in Cyrodiil. Take good care of them? and good luck."

I plodded slowly back towards the Fighters' Guild, thinking over what Caius had said to me. I knew I ought to be shocked, and upset, but right now I just felt numb. Maybe it was just too much to take in on top of everything else.

If the Empire did fall, what would replace it? I wasn't much of a scholar, but I knew enough history to realise that the fall of Empires didn't tend to be followed by a Golden Age of peace and prosperity. The last time the Empire had come close to collapse was during the Imperial Simulacrum, when the Emperor's chief battlemage had imprisoned him in Oblivion and secretly taken his place. I was too young to remember those times, but my parents weren't, and from what they'd told me ? when they were willing to discuss it at all ? I got the impression it had been anything but a pleasant time to live through.

As I crossed the bridge over the Odai, I was so deep in thought that I barely noticed the guy standing right in front of me. It wasn't until I got up close to him that I realised he wasn't moving, and was blocking my way. I looked up at him in bewilderment, and realised with a sinking heart that I recognised him: a green robe, a scarred face, and an all-too-familiar glazed look in his eyes.

"The wickwheat is winnowed, and under the harrow, the earth is prepared for planting." His red eyes glowed eerily in the flickering light of the torch he carried. "The n'wah must die, and their flesh serve to sweeten the soil."

Hang on, this was a new one. "The n'wah must die?"

"You, foreigner! You must die." He leaned in towards me, his face contorted with hatred. "Beasts and men, outlander mer, all must die. Flee his wrath and quit this land, if you would live, or your flesh shall feed the earth."

To say that I really didn't need this right now would be an understatement. "Get away from me." I could hear the tremor in my voice. "Get out of my way now or I'll shove you into the river."

He just stood there, those red gimlet-eyes boring right into me. For a second I thought I might actually have to make good on my threat, but at the last moment he suddenly turned and stalked away. As the retreating figure vanished into an alleyway, I realised that I was shaking.

Back at the Fighters' Guild, I took stock of the situation. I basically had two choices: hire bodyguards, or follow Caius' advice and sleep outside of town. Since the first option wasn't exactly practical on my current budget, it looked like I'd either have to bunk down in the nearest cave or try the barracks at Fort Moonmoth.

Would the Sixth House servants find me if I slept at the fort? Well, it was worth a try. At the very least, being surrounded by a lot of heavily-armed soldiers would make me feel a bit safer.

I packed up as many of my belongings as I could and set out for the fort, now so tired that I was literally close to collapse. Upon arrival, I rolled into the first bed available and fell into a long, mercifully uninterrupted sleep.

It was almost midday when I finally woke up the next morning. I lay there for several minutes, replaying the previous day's events in my head as I tried to collect my thoughts. Okay? I'd killed a Sixth House priest, been cursed with corprus disease, got cured of corprus disease, met a guy who claimed to be the Last Living Dwarf, and nearly got myself brained by an ash creature. Now I just had to work out which of those had actually happened and which I'd just imagined.

The 'Last Living Dwarf' part I was fairly sure was a hallucination, either on my part or more likely on his. That was one of the symptoms of corprus, wasn't it? Perhaps the guy I'd met was in the early stages: still able to speak coherently and hold a conversation, but completely delusional. Poor bastard.

Everything else, though, I was fairly sure had really happened. And I had a nasty feeling that somewhere along the line I'd agreed to become the Imperial Spymaster for Vvardenfell. Clearly I needed to grab Caius before he left and have a long talk about what this actually meant, and how long I'd be doing it for.

I walked back to Balmora in the early afternoon, after a long and vigorous bath and a hearty meal. Before doing anything else, I stopped by the Mages' Guild to buy supplies. Masalinie Merian had already gone to bed when I'd returned the previous night, and her eyes nearly popped out of her head when she saw me.

"Ada!" She took a nervous step backwards as I approached. "Are you? did you??"

"Yep, I'm cured," I said flatly. "I could explain how, but it would probably take all afternoon."

She hesitated, still hovering nervously at a safe distance. "Are you sure you're cured?"

"I'm fine," I told her. "I promise. I am no longer infectious."

She still looked a bit suspicious, but I finally managed to convince her that I really was 100% corprus-free. "Well," she said. "That's truly amazing. I've never seen anything like it before."

As I left the room, I could hear her and some of the other mages whispering together. No doubt a wildly-exaggerated version of the story would be all over Balmora before the week was out.

Afterwards I crossed the river into eastern Balmora to visit Caius. I knocked at his door several times, but for the first time ever, he didn't answer. Thinking he might be out, I leaned against the door to wait ? and was astonished when it instantly swung inwards under my weight.

The house was empty. It looked exactly as it had done the night before, only? no Caius. Looking around the room, I spotted a money pouch lying on the table alongside a short note.

Ada,

Had to leave sooner than I expected. I've left you some gold ? you'll need it for expenses.

Caius

So he'd gone. I picked up the bag of gold and jiggled it about in my hands. For ages I'd wanted to be rid of Caius, but now that he'd gone, I actually felt a little lost. What was I going to do now?

I walked back to the Mages' Guild with a heavy heart. Masalinie realised something was wrong the minute she saw me. "What's the matter, Ada?"

"He's gone," I said dully.

"Gone? Who's gone?"

"Caius. I visited him just last night, and now he's? well, gone."

"Oh, sweetheart." To my immense surprise, she wrapped her arms around me and hugged me tightly. "Men are such beasts, aren't they? But Ada, my love, I'm sure an attractive girl like you can do better than that." She wrinkled her nose. "To be quite honest, none of us could understand what you saw in him in the first place."

I opened my mouth to protest, and then closed it again. What did it matter now, anyway? "Yeah, I guess you're right."

"Take my advice, and find someone closer to your own age. One of those strapping lads at the Fighters' Guild should be just your type." She winked. "After all, you know what they say about the best way to get over a man?"

I'd heard that expression, yes. Maybe it was time I found a boyfriend, I thought. After all, it looked like I was going to be here for quite a while yet. And it was certainly long enough since I'd last slept with anyone (though given that I'd spent most of that time in prison, that was probably a good thing).

Masalinie transported me to Vivec, where I hurried to the Temple canton to look for the Temple priestess Mehra Milo. She wasn't anywhere in the Library of Vivec, so I decided to take Caius' advice and look for her quarters. How was I supposed to find them, though? It wasn't like I could ask anyone.

I finally managed to locate them through a scribbled floor plan someone had left on a desk. The door was locked, and no one answered when I tried knocking. After checking no one was nearby, I set out to pick the lock, which luckily wasn't too much of a challenge.

The room behind the door was clean and tidy, but Mehra wasn't there. She'd left a short note on top of a chest of drawers, and my heart sank as I read it:

Amaya,

Sorry I missed you. I had to run some old documents over to the Inquisitor at the Ministry of Truth, and I'm likely to be tied up there for a while. Why don't you meet me there as soon as you can? Then we can leave together as soon as I'm done. And Amaya, don't forget to bring me the two Divine Intervention scrolls you borrowed. Or, if you used them, buy a couple of new ones for me. I think I'm going to need them soon. Janand Maulinie at the Mages Guild in the Foreign Quarter keeps them in stock.

Alvela Saram is the guard at the entrance; just tell her you're looking for me, and she'll let you in.

Your faithful friend,
Mehra

PS: I left a couple of Levitate potions here for you, just in case. I couldn't remember if you knew the spell or not, so I drew a couple from stock.

How a message like this could possibly have fooled even the most brain-damaged Ordinator was beyond me. Honestly, "I'm likely to be tied up there for a while?" Even I could have done a better job of writing a 'coded' message based on the spy novels I'd read as a teenager. No wonder the Dissident Priests kept getting themselves arrested if this was their idea of 'secret' communications.

So Mehra needed me to spring her from jail, did she? Great, another marvellous opportunity to get myself arrested and tortured. At least I had the Divine Intervention scrolls she'd asked for, so I could make a hasty exit if things got too hairy.

Sighing, I took the letter and the Rising Force potions and made my way to the shrine of Vivec on top of the canton. Rather than just drinking one of the potions, I donated one to the shrine for the usual 24-hour Levitation blessing. The last thing I wanted was for the spell to wear off at an inconvenient moment. I levitated up to the Ministry of Truth, where a female Ordinator stood guard on one of the balconies ? I could tell she was female because she didn't wear the usual closed helmet.

"Excuse me," I said cautiously, hovering a few feet away from her. "Are you Alvela Saram?"

"I'm sorry. No pilgrims allowed in the Ministry," she said firmly. "I'll have to ask you to lea- wait, you're not here to visit anyone, are you?"

I shook my head, and she quickly handed me a key she'd concealed beneath her belt. "Mehra said you would come," she whispered. "I'll say you subdued me with magic and stole my key. It opens all three exterior doors ? the upper back door is best."

"I don't suppose you happen to have keys to the cells, do you?"

"I'm afraid not." Of course; that would have been too easy. "Search for the keys in desks; no one carries keys while on duty. Mehra is in Prison Keep in the cell on the far right. Oh? and some of us are sympathetic to the Dissident priests, but kill an Ordinator, and you'll lose that sympathy. Mehra said you've got rank in the Temple, so maybe you can bluff your way through."

Somehow I doubted that my extremely low rank in the Temple would allow me to bluff my way past the guards ? or, for that matter, that anyone would believe I was capable of subduing an Ordinator with magic. My only hope was to stay out of sight until I got to Mehra. Luckily I had a secret weapon: my Amulet of Shadows. (Boy was I glad I'd been lucky enough to find that thing!)

I flew up to the back door Alvela had mentioned and cast the amulet's enchantment before braving the Ministry of Truth ? probably the first time a non-Dunmer had ever entered it except as a prisoner. The interior was gloomy and forbidding, as you'd expect from a prison carved out of a big floating rock. I didn't waste time searching for keys ? I just hurried through the corridors, past doors with creepy names like 'Hall of Processing', until I reached the one marked 'Prison Keep' and used an Ondusi's Unhinging scroll to open it.

I found myself in a vaguely circular, cavern-like room with a high domed ceiling. Heavily-armed Ordinators patrolled the room on raised wooden platforms, while a group of miserable-looking prisoners milled about on the rock floor below. Mehra wasn't among them, but I could see a heavy door on the right side of the room which presumably led to her cell.

I floated up and over the guards and down to the cell door, where I prepared to cast the Chameleon enchantment again before trying the lock ? only to realise there wasn't enough charge left on the amulet. Bugger. I didn't have any Ondusi's Unhinging scrolls left either, and there certainly wasn't time to try and pick the lock.

I tried casting the Unhinging spell myself, once again cursing myself for not having paid more attention to my magic lessons. I'd been the despair of my Alteration tutor, but she'd certainly had the last laugh. It failed, of course, and now I had only seconds left before the spell wore off.

My second attempt failed just as miserably, and moments later I realised my hands had become visible again. I cast a desperate glance around me, and noticed several of the prisoners looking at me in astonishment and confusion. The guards hadn't spotted me yet, but they soon would. Ignoring the other prisoners, I closed my eyes, concentrated really hard, and whispered the words of the spell one last time.

The click of the lock sliding back was the most wonderful sound I'd ever heard. Quickly I yanked open the door and slipped through it, hoping the loud creaking sound wouldn't alert the guards. But it seemed my luck had run out ? just as the door swung shut behind me, I heard an angry shout.

"[censored]!" I announced to a surprised-looking Mehra Milo. "I think they're on to us."

With admirable presence of mind, Mehra strode over to the door and cast a Lock spell on it. It would buy us some time, though probably only a minute or two at most. "Do you have the scrolls?" she demanded.

I nodded and started to dig around in my pack for the Divine Intervention scrolls. Outside I could hear loud banging on the door, and lots of yelling in Dunmeris ? angry curses and shouts of "Find the key!"

I found the scrolls, threw one of them to Mehra and quickly cast the other myself. Seconds later we were both standing in the courtyard of a large Imperial-style stone building. "Where are we?" I asked, blinking.

"Outside the Imperial Chapels in Ebonheart." She smiled. "Of course, normally I only use Almsivi Intervention scrolls. But for my escape from the Ministry of Truth, a Divine Intervention scroll was just what I needed."

A grin spread across my face as I realised how clever she'd been. Even if the Ordinators worked out where we'd gone, none of them would know Divine Intervention spells. By the time they got to Ebonheart we'd be long gone.

"We need to go to the secret Dissident Priests monastery at Holamayan," Mehra continued. "I have a friend named Blatta Hateria who can take us there by boat. When we arrive we will get the lost prophecies from Gilvas Barelo, the leader of the Dissident Priests."

We hurried through Ebonheart ? me flying, Mehra walking ? until we reached the docks, where a young Imperial woman stood on board a small fishing boat. I'd noticed her and her boat a few times in passing, but hadn't thought anything of it. "Hello, Mehra," she said with a smile. "Want to go fishing?"

"We certainly do." Mehra hurried me onto the boat, and we set off for the headquarters of the Dissident Priests.

Holomayan was another three-days' journey away, out on one of the remote islands of Azura's Coast. While we travelled, I told Mehra everything that had happened to me since I last saw her, and mentioned that Caius had been recalled to Cyrodiil.

"I wonder," she said, frowning. "I never know what he's thinking. I think he's involved in something secret, something dangerous. I was hoping he might help us, and now he's gone?"

We reached Holomayan a few hours before dawn on a cold, misty day. As we walked up the steps to the monastery, Mehra told me that it had once been a shrine to Azura ? I just couldn't get away from Her Twilightness, it seemed. Apparently the door to the shrine only opened at dawn and dusk, the magical twilight hours sacred to Azura.

We settled down outside the door to wait patiently (well, not quite so patiently on my part) for it to open. Finally, as the first rays of sunlight peeked over the horizon, the magically-sealed door slid open with a loud rumbling sound.

Mehra led me inside, and while I took the opportunity to eat and freshen up, she went to explain the situation to Master Gilvas Barelo. A short while later she took me to Barelo, an elderly man with a gentle, wise face, and introduced me ? to my horror ? as the outlander who believed she might be the Nerevarine. Having kindly dumped me right in it, she left us alone so that we could discuss the Lost Prophecies.

Master Barelo showed me copies of several documents from the 'Apographa', the priestly writings suppressed by the Temple. The first one was the document actually known as 'The Lost Prophecy', which he read out to me:

"From seventh sign of eleventh generation,
Neither Hound nor Guar, nor Seed nor Harrow,
But Dragon-born and far-star-marked,
Outlander Incarnate beneath Red Mountain,
Blessed Guest counters seven curses,
Star-blessed hand wields thrice-cursed blade,
To reap the harvest of the unmourned house."

"I've annotated your copy with our best efforts at interpretation," he said. "But a rough summary might be: 'An outlander ? foreign-born, but welcomed as a guest ? confronts seven curses beneath Red Mountain. His hand, blessed by Azura, uses a cursed blade to bring justice to House Dagoth, or House Dwemer, or both.'" He shook his head. "The Nerevarine? An outlander? That wouldn't please many Ashlanders, and it may explain how the prophecy got lost."

I could well imagine that it wouldn't please the Ashlanders. On the other hand, 'Dragon-born' certainly seemed like a pretty clear reference to Cyrodiil, or at least the Empire. No matter how little I liked it, the idea of my being the Nerevarine was getting more and more plausible.

"The prophecies all say 'he'," I pointed out, grasping at straws. "Doesn't that mean the Nerevarine would have to be male?"

"Well, the word in the original Ashlander tongue is gender-neutral," he explained. "It was translated as 'he' simply because everyone assumed that Nerevar's reincarnation would be a man." Oh.

The next document he showed me was a poem describing the 'seven curses' mentioned in the Lost Prophecy:

...through the doors of the unmourned house
where scoffers scoff and schemers scheme
from the halls of the oath-breaking house
rings seven curses of gods blasphemed

first curse, Curse-of-Fire
second curse, Curse-of-Ash
third curse, Curse-of-Flesh
fourth curse, Curse-of-Ghosts
fifth curse, Curse-of-Seed
sixth curse, Curse-of-Despair
seventh curse, Curse-of-Dreams...

Heaven save me from yet more Ashlander poetry. At least this one vaguely rhymed, sort of.

"Fire and ash come from Red Mountain," Barelo explained. "Flesh is corprus. Ghosts, Seed, and Despair are unclear, but Curse-of-Dreams seems to refer to recent cases of soul sickness and Sleeper attacks in the towns."

As I was still trying to absorb all this, he shoved a heavy pile of books into my arms. "Here are a few books about Nerevar you might find of interest. We have also prepared a document for you called Kagrenac's Tools, which will explain to you the terrible secret that the Temple conceals about the true history of the Tribunal. It is to conceal this secret that the Temple persecutes the Nerevarine and the Dissident Priests."

I thanked him, trying to look grateful, and retreated to the library to study the books he'd given me. To my surprise, I actually found them quite interesting. It seemed there was rather more to the story of Nerevar and Dagoth Ur than most people thought.

All the 'official' accounts of Nerevar's life agreed on several points: Dagoth Ur of House Dagoth had betrayed the Dunmer during their war against the Dwemer. Lord Nerevar, with the help of his three closest counsellors ? his wife Almalexia, and his friends Vivec and Sotha Sil ? had united the other Houses against the Dwemer-Dagoth forces. The Dwemer were defeated in the Battle of Red Mountain, Dagoth Ur was killed, and House Dagoth utterly destroyed.

However, Kagrenac's Tools told a slightly different story. According to this, the Dwemer had discovered the heart of the god Lorkhan beneath Red Mountain. A Dwarven priest named Kagrenac had crafted enchanted tools to steal power from the heart, hoping the Dwemer could use them to create a new god for their own benefit. When he used the tools at the Battle of Red Mountain, the entire Dwemer race had instantly vanished from the mortal world.

Dagoth Ur had not betrayed the Dunmer ? instead, Nerevar had left him to guard the tools while he went to consult his counsellors. But Dagoth was seduced by the power of the tools, and used them to grant himself divine powers. When Nerevar and the Tribunal returned, they fought and Dagoth was badly wounded ? but not killed. After Nerevar's death, the Tribunal succumbed to the temptation to use the tools, turning themselves into gods the same way as Dagoth Ur.

This, the author claimed, was why the Tribunal's powers were fading. Dagoth Ur had been driven mad by the corrupt power of the tools, but the Tribunal had been corrupted by them as well. And since Dagoth Ur was closer to the source of their power, he was slowly growing stronger, while they grew weaker.

It all sounded very far-fetched ? gods' hearts, evil cursed tools of DOOM ? yet as I thought about it, everything seemed to click into place. The sudden disappearance of the Dwarves? the Tribunal's failure to stop the Blight? and that letter from Dagoth Ur talking about Nerevar's 'betrayal'. In his madness, no doubt he'd convinced himself that he really was innocent of any wrongdoing.

I wandered over to Mehra Milo, who was seated at a table nearby, hoping she might be able to tell me more. She was completely absorbed in a book, and didn't even notice me there until I coughed politely. "Ah, Ada," she said, with a somewhat dreamy smile. "Forgive me; I was caught up in my reading."

I looked down at the book she'd been reading. To my surprise I realised that it was Children of the Sky, a simple schoolroom book about the Nords of Skyrim. "Are you interested in Nord culture?" I asked her.

She shrugged. "These people are our ancient enemies. Like all man races, they are of inferior blood, but otherwise are human in every respect. Are they capable of enlightenment? Do they have souls? Who can say?"

I gazed at her for several moments in stunned silence. Had she just said what I thought she had said?

Now don't get me wrong: while I've met people of every race who don't fit the usual stereotypes, I have to admit that for the most part they largely hold true. The Nords are hard-drinking louts who live for fighting, the Khajiit have refined thievery into an art form, and we Cyrodiils will talk you into selling your own grandmother and then haggle over the price. Deep down almost everyone prefers their own people and culture, and anyone who tells you they don't is probably lying. But to convince yourself that your own race really is better, that being born Altmer or Imperial or Dunmer actually makes you a superior being ? that's a different matter entirely.

Here was an intelligent, educated woman, with several human friends, open-minded enough to challenge the doctrine of the Temple she belonged to ? and yet she was questioning whether Nords (and by extension, all humans) had souls. Did she even realise she was talking to a member of the 'inferior' man races? From the faraway expression on her face, I got the impression that she'd completely forgotten. But even if she hadn't, I suddenly realised, it didn't matter ? from her perspective she was just making a simple statement of fact. Almost all Dunmer probably felt that way, even if they were better at hiding it.

Suddenly I felt a long, long way from home. Who the heck was I kidding, thinking that these people would ever accept me as their Nerevarine? I had to get out of here.

I wandered out of the room, leaving Mehra to her book, and went to speak to Gilvas Barelo. "Well, I think I'd better be going," I said, trying to sound casual. "I? need some time to think about all this."

"So soon?" he asked, a little surprised. "But you know you can only enter or leave Holamayan at dusk and dawn? Please, make yourself comfortable here. Rest in our beds, and make good use of our services."

"It's OK," I said firmly. "I have some Almsivi Intervention scrolls left. Thanks for all your help with the prophecies."

I'd taken one of them from my pack while I was speaking. Before Master Barelo could reply I unrolled it and cast the spell, not even caring where it would take me. It was time to go back to Plan A.

This is SO MUCH FUN to read! Thank you Helena.

:thumbsup:

lol

"So he DID have a shirt!"

Awesome! You are so much fun to read! I set this story up on my favorites so I get an email from FanFiction every time you add a chapter.