In the vast, snowy, middle-of-nowhere, Caelia was creating a makeshift shrine for the daedric prince.
She had bought what she needed, ( several bricks of woods, and one thin square piece of wood) from Birna, Winterhold’s one and only shopkeeper.
Birna had asked what she needed the wood for, and urged against going camping. When Caelia had politely declined to explain what she wanted the wood for, she thought she heard Birna murmur something that something that sounded like, '' Those mages.''
Caelia didn’t mind. In fact, she felt sorry of Birna. The reason that she was in Winterhold was because her brother, Ranmir, was a drunkard. She had tried to help Ranmir, and had tried to reason with him.
But no matter what she did, he didn’t want to be helped, or cured. He was wasting his life, and she wasn't sure how to convince him to stop.
She used the blocks of wood to create a circle, in the middle of the circle, she placed the thin square piece of wood, on which she had draw a depiction of Hermaeus Mora.
She offered up a tome of great knowledge, and through the wind she cried, ‘’Hermaeus Mora, I would speak with you!’’
Then she saw the god who did not appear as a noble man, or a great lady, but as a Wretched Abyss. It was Hermaeus Mora, the god of knowledge, who was unknowable.
It spoke and said, ‘’ Your offering pleases me. It shall grace one of my many rooms. Have you forsaken your pitiful Divines? Come, and worship me. I could have many uses for one such as you. I would give you such rewards as would make your fellow mages writhe in envy.’’
‘’ I come proposing a deal, a temporary one.’’
‘’ Do you slight me? I am the Great Hermaeus Mora! But . . .hmm. Let us consider this deal. You will come in time.’’
‘’ I suggest that in return for a favor I do for you, you will open an entrance and allow me exit through through your realm.’’
The Abyss seemed to laugh, and then it spoke.
‘’ There is a task I had in mind. You must collect blood from all of the elven races.’’
‘’ Then you will transport me to Apocrypha?’’
‘’ Yes.’’
‘’ It will be done.’’
‘’ Come again to this place, when you have done your task. Here is an extractor.’’
The Abyss had vanished, and now she was in servitude to a daedric prince. She felt chilled, in more ways than one.
At the bidding of the daedric prince, she killed. It was not innocents, that she killed, only bandits, only dark sorcerers, and such. They had done no one any good, and had done some a great deal of harm. That was what she told herself.
She felt dirty, tainted, as if her complicit part in the schemes of a daedric prince had blackened her soul. Forward, forward. For this is not the end. For this is my scheme as well as that of the daedric prince.
She went back to the spot of her makeshift shrine.
She held out the extractor, filled the blood of the mer. She called out, ‘’Hermaeus Mora! I have done as you asked!’’
Again, like before, she saw a Wretched Abyss. ‘’ Have you now? Ah, yes, I see you have. You have done well, much better than my other servant. I will use this well.’’
‘’ We have a deal, and you have not yet fulfilled your end.''
‘’Yes.’’ Again, the daedric prince seemed to laugh.
‘’ You wish to explore my realm? Take this book; a look inside will bring to my realm, and another look will bring you back here.’
Caelia opened the book, and it was like nothing else she had ever read. The inky letters twisted and swirled, mesmerizing, alluring. She wondered how she could ever tear away her gaze. It reached, dragging her deeper and deeper.
Suddenly, she found herself in Apocrypha. She gasped.
She unsheathed her sword, preparing for lurkers and seekers, (creatures of the daedric lord) who would not look kindly on visitors.
She took in her surroundings, looking at the hazy greenness above her, and the murky, toxic water below. It certainly smelled toxic. She took a few steps back.
She could see the many books, but not all of the books in Apocrypha were books; some of them were something else. Intangible pieces of knowledge made tangible the moment those pieces were forgotten. In these cases, the appearance of book acted merely as a kind of sheath, a outer covering
All the books of Apocrypha looked the same, giving no clue to what secrets hid within the covers.
She had worked with Sergius Turrianus on enchanting a silver ring with a special detect spell. This would cause the books that held the pieces of Aliette’s soul to appear to glow a bright blue.
She took out a map of Apocrypha, determining where she was. She had found the map in one of the books she borrowed from the Arcanaeum. Urag gro-Shub isn’t going to be happy to find this missing. Maybe I can tell him that the map saved my life. Maybe then he won’t send the Atronachs after me.
She noticed something else about those books of Hermaeus Mora. It was as if they were alive, and seemed to whisper. Just one taste, they seemed to say, just one page.
She had prepared for this, by learning many useful Akiviri mental techniques to silence the voices.
Forward she went. Sometimes she cast an invisibility spell, convincing the lurkers and seekers that she was one of the many ghosts who roamed Apocrypha, without rest, without peace, seeking knowledge in death that they had not found in life.
At other times, a more direct approach was called for. She went through the many halls, reaching only for the books that had parts of Aliette’s soul. She captured the pieces in a gem. She kept her hands away from everything else, slapping them if necessary.
She looked at the map often, making sure she knew where she was.
At last she came one of those of whom she had heard so many tales. She saw an Altmer, who, once, she was sure, had been a great scholar. Now, he was lost to any life outside Apocrypha.
He was on his knees, in robes, reading. Around him were clustered many books.
His face was one which once had been noble, and his eyes those of one who is obsessed. She believed that his long hair had once been a pale blond, but in the realm of Hermaeus Mora it had turned a dingy greenish-gray.
She mourned to see one of the Altmer race, whom the gods had raised so high, so fallen. Given the long lifespan of his kind, he could have been down here for more than a hundred years, and that was maddening to think. Maddening, because he was wasting so so much. She couldn’t help. She couldn’t do anything.
She heard him murmur,’’ Knowledge! I must, I must have more. I cannot go back. Not yet. Not enough. Knowledge, knowledge!’’
Once you may have been wise, but you forsook all friendship, all love, and all light for the sake of knowledge, and that isn’t wise at all. With more knowledge than most mortals will ever know you are not satisfied. You are nothing. You are void.
She looked; she saw nothing for her here. I do not choose this. I do not choose Apocrypha. I choose love.
When she was completely satisfied that she had collected all pieces of Aliette’s soul hidden in Apocrypha, she looked again on the book of Hermaeus Mora.
She was back, she was back in Skyrim. She had never been so glad to see endless snow.
She saw Hermaeus Mora, who this time appeared as a mass of tentacles with many eyes
‘’Ah, you have survived my realm, have you? I like you, mortal. I like you. Here, take this gift. Choose a path, and read from the Oghma Infinium.’’
One of the daedric prince’s tentacles reached towards her, handing her the book.
She had heard of this artifact, of the knowledge it could grant. She gazed upon it for some time.
At last, she said, ‘’ No.’’
‘’ What do you mean?’’ asked Hermaeus Mora. ‘’ It will give you great knowledge!’’
‘’We are even,’’ said Caelia. ‘’ I have held my end of the deal, and you have held yours. I will not place myself in your debt. Though my people were once slaves, I will not become yours!’’
She began to walk, making her way to the city of Winterhold.
‘’ You will regret this!’’ the daedric prince cried after her.
‘’ No, I won’t!’’ she shouted back
As she walked into the city of Winterhold, she was thinking about the Altmer scholar that she couldn’t have saved. Then, as she stopped at the Frozen Hearth, she thought about Ranmir.
She tried, really. First, she had tried logic, and had outlined the many detrimental affects of heavy drinking. Then she had even tried niceness.
She was going to try again. She almost hated herself for it, but after what she had seen she felt she had to, because Ranmir wasn’t stuck in some realm of Oblivion, because his life didn’t have to wasted.
She took a deep breath, and marched in to the Frozen Hearth.
As soon as he spotted her, Ranmir began a drunken tirade. ‘’ The Restoration mage, again, is it? I don’t want your help. Go back to your damn College. You ain’t got nothing to cure me! Leave me to the sweet oblivion of drink!’’
With that last sentence, something snapped.
She sat on the opposite side of the table where he was drinking, and said,’’ You, you are either going to do something for yourself, or something is going to be done to you. I have this friend, you see. She hasn’t been well for a while. In fact, she’s been a bit dead.''
‘’ Anyways, thanks to me, she's going to be well, and she’s quite the conjurer. I think that if I asked her to send some flaming atronachs after you, she would. They wouldn’t kill you. Even in Winterhold, we tend to have rules, but you could get quite singed and your hair could turn very . . . black. Not one more drink!’’
‘’ Okay, okay. It’s late anyway.’’ Ranmir left. He had listened to her. She felt astounded. I made a difference. He actually listened. Maybe there’s some truth to that old story of Imperial persuasion.
She made her way back to the College, and to Aliette’s room. She placed the pieces of Aliette’s soul that she had gathered in Apocrypha back inside of her. There, she was healed, totally healed.
It felt a bit quiet, and a bit small. Everyone was asleep, and no sign in the sky announced her deed, but that was fine. It gave her space to think, and ponder.
I have saved her soul, but what will be the fate of my soul, I do not know. I do not know if the Divines can forgive, or understand my alliance, however temporary, with a daedric prince.
I may find that it is not only the vigilants who can spare no mercy, but Stendarr himself. I may find my soul barred from Aetherius for what I have done in these days.
But I swear by the holy Alessia, that it was worth it, and it will always be worth it.
Comments
That is a very dedicated friend.