Those Whom the Gods Forsake - Chapter 20

  • Chapter 20: False Gods and Propaganda

    We walked along the road, a cool wind blowing through my cloak.

    “Why can't we ride the horses?”

    “Because they're carrying the supplies, and horses cannot walk up 7,000 stone steps on a steep mountain incline.”

    Cidius had seemingly unending questions, and I soon suspected he had never left his home.

    “Where are you from, Cidius?”

    He snapped out of his awe of the mountain and looked at me with his ever-so-common ‘confused look’.

    “Huh? Oh! A small settlement in Cyrodiil called Weatherleah. You?”

    “Just outside Alinor.”

    He stopped for a second to ease his horse along, as it was a very stubborn animal. Strong and loyal, but stubborn.

    “Is it beautiful there?”

    “I’d like to think so. Imagine a field of orange trees, sea birds over head. Tall, white towers as houses in most urban areas. Fresh fish cooking in the marketplace…”

    My voice trailed off as I was lost in the memories.

    “Do you miss it?”

    “Very much so. And never shall I return.”

    He made me pause as he dug a small pebble from his shoe. It amazed me how capable in setbacks he was.

    “If you miss it, why don't you go back?”

    I sighed heavily.

    “Because the government doesn't want me there. In fact, they tried to kill me.”

    “Why don't they like you?”

    I turned to face him, looking hard into his eyes. He didn't ask another question until we reached a small village called Ivarstead. We hitched the horses and I paid for a night in the inn, paying for separate rooms. I thought of my mother that night, her and her orange perfume. Did I still have it stashed away in that old drawer? I figured I did. It had been so long since I'd visited.

    I woke just before dawn and walked across the inn to Cidius’ room. I opened the door to find the lad sprawled across the bed, only half under the furs, the rest of which lay on the ground.

    “For the love of…”

    I shook him awake and we left the inn, taking the rest of our food and our tent off the horses and onto our backs. We strolled across town to the foot of the mountain and both gazed up at the giant.

    “Ready?”

    “Yes, sir!”

    I grunted and began waking up the path.

    The journey was only elongated by Cidius’ desire to read all of the plaques that lined the path. Collectively they told the story of the first men learning to Shout, and he took this as his duty to read each and every one, contemplating its meaning. In truth, they had no meaning; just a story told as a poem. Still, that did not deter the young Dragonborn.

    By midday, we were less than a fourth of the way up, given the steep incline, icy rock, constant questions, heavy packs, and the plaque-reading. We had to stop before we reached the half-way point to begin setting up camp or we would not have it done before the cold truly set in.

    We found a small concave formation in the rock, big enough for our tent and a fire. I pitched the tent and told Cidius to stay in it until I returned from collecting wood for the fire. I found a good sized sapling which I cut with a knife and then broke it into smaller pieces. I set up the fire and told Cidius to being out the bag of food.

    That night I cooked some salmon over our fire.

    “You said there's fish in the Isles?”

    “Yes.”

    “You got salmon over there?”

    I shook my head.

    “What's over there, then?”

    “My personal favorite is Red Dragonet. Sometimes we’ll get a good deep-sea Mudcrab haul as well.”

    Cidius nodded slowly as he chewed. He acted as though he knew what either if those were, though being from a land-locked village deep in the woods it was quite clear he had never heard of either.

    When we had finished eating, we sat opposite each other around the fire.

    “Know any songs, sir?”

    “A few.”

    “Care to sing any from the Isles?”

    “Not really, but;

    O, Justiciar!

    What peace you have brought!

    You've stopped the great evil

    The Empire wrought!

    And lo!

    Our great council returns

    From the planning.

    The enemy gets what an enemy earns.

    And lo!

    Our great land shall not tear asunder

    From the men’s evils both above us and under.

    Shall I continue?”

    Cidius looked at me surprise.

    “It's a song we all learn as children.”

    “But that's utterly ridiculous! You're the evil ones, invading the Empire and what-not.”

    “The same could be said of Tiber Septim, invading all Tamriel using the Numidium to his advantage. Is that not wrong? To force the Elves into an Empire they never wanted?”

    Cidius sat in silence. He thought back on all the stories he'd been taught, realizing how one-sided they were.

    “I think you'll find, Cidius, that quite often it has been the Mer slaughtered and invaded by the Men.”

    I crawled into the tent, weaseling my way into my bedroll. Cidius came in shortly after, and we fell asleep.

    In the morning I woke Cidius once more and we broke down the tent. We continued on up the 7,000 Steps the rest of the day before stopping about two-thirds of the way there.

    “Why do you think they're called the 7,000 Steps, sir?”

    “Because it feels like walking up that many steps, though it is less.”

    “But why SEVEN thousand? Why not something like five or ten thousand? Those numbers seem more natural, don't they?”

    “Why don't you ask the man who named them.”

    “He's dead.”

    I nodded as I threw wood down for our fire.

    “That he is.”

    We spent the evening speaking of more randomized facts about the area I was born into such as ‘are there horses?’ ‘is everyone a wizard?’ and my personal favorite; ‘are all of you Daedra worshippers?’.

    We arrived at the door of High Hrothgar that day, as I was able to speed Cidius’ pace. I noticed immediately the statue of Talos outside the door, and my concerns resurfaced. I pushed a door open after much hesitation and thought and peeked in.

    It was an empty room, so I motioned Cidius inside and closed the door behind us. I cleared my throat and listened to the echo it made throughout the halls.

    “And so the Dragonborn arrives at our humble steps.”

    Our heads jerked to the left as an old man in grey robes came from a side hall.

    “I'm simply here to see him off. I suppose I shall leave now; don't wish to intrude.”

    The Greybeard nodded slowly. He looked at me inquisitively then shuffled forward.

    “You may stay, if the Dovahkiin will allow it.”

    Cidius looked at me and I subtly shook my head ‘no’.

    “I'd like for him to stay outside.”

    “So the Dragonborn says, so it shall be.”

    I masked by pure rage and left the hall, sitting angrily on the stone steps. A light snow fell from the sky and quickly dusted my shoulders and legs.

    I looked up to see Talos looking down on me, his expression immortalized by the stone. I examined first him, then the serpent he was stabbing. Lorkhan, I presumed.

    “Hello.”

    Nothing.

    “Wonderful. Now I've begun talking to statues of false gods.”

    Nothing.

    I sat in silence while watching the statue’s nothing-ness when I heard a group of voices inside the hall shouting in the dragons’ tongue. Not long after Cidius exited High Hrothgar with a few minor scrapes and a light bruise on his arm.

    “What happened in there?”

    He looked at me with a half worried, half over-joyed twinkle in his eyes.

    “I've been given one final test. And don't worry; this one I'll do alone.”

    I nodded, made eye-contact one last time with the Septim, and we started on our way back down the mountain.

Comments

7 Comments
  • Sindeed
    Sindeed   ·  March 5, 2016
    Because the person who named it had dreams of daedra worshipping wizard horses ;)
  • Sotek
    Sotek   ·  March 5, 2016
    One day someone will come up with an actual answer as to why the steps are called the seven thousand steps.
    I've an idea.....
    Congrats Accursed. Chapter 20, no small feat..
  • The Long-Chapper
    The Long-Chapper   ·  March 4, 2016
    Well I have that Altmeri nursery rhyme, so it makes total sense. 
    That boy is so dead. LOL
  • A-Pocky-Hah!
    A-Pocky-Hah!   ·  March 4, 2016
    Damn Thalmor propaganda songs. Wonder if the one who composed it had a blade between their neck.
    You know, I could feel the rage when Cidius told Caranthir to get out.
    The Adventures of Caranthir the Dovahsitter continues....
  • Accursed
    Accursed   ·  March 3, 2016
    @Lissette This is no mere poem! This is the pinnacle of Elven indoctrination, the song that shall be sung from rooftops until the Thalmor themselves die out! Perhaps I'll have to record myself singing it for everyone one day. Probably not; I've been told ...  more
  • The Long-Chapper
    The Long-Chapper   ·  March 3, 2016
    Nicely done Accursed. The poem was so Thalmor. I liked the interplay between Caranthir and little Cidius. 
  • Lyall
    Lyall   ·  March 3, 2016
    Ohh, don't go insulting Talos next to High Hroathgar (Even though I belive that he is less then perfect.) Nice job with this!