Civil War Aftermath Chapter 3: Season's End pt2

[Witchking of Angmar]

"There's the smaller gods. The most prominent being our sky mother, Kaan." said the man.

 

"And Shor?"

 

"You from the south? We call him Sheor here. He's more or less tolerated. Though his priests are sometimes convicted of heresy."

 

"Then very little has changed over the ages. Thank you, sir." Maggie walked on, saying, "The dragons pair well with your Kaan. Perhaps the dragon war was only a marital spat between her and Shor. How much of life turns around the axis of love."

 

"Some even believe she is also the mother to the dragons." said her guide. "And didn't you notice the lack of manners that man had?"

 

"Aren't all Nords like that?" Maggie laughed.

 

"It is considered good manners to lower your head for a woman of higher stature than yourself. While we aren't as big on formalities as the elves, we do have customs for addressing the nobility."

 

"And why did this man not observe the custom?" Maggie didn't seem bothered, only curious.

 

"Maybe he thought so highly of himself that he didn't think you were of that higher stature. Some people believe that just because they have slain a troll or an ice wraith, that they are great warriors to be respected by all."

 

"Or he might have been in the dragon cult hierarchy? It doesn't matter. The Nord bluster is delightful." They were nearing the citadel, so she slowed a bit. "Is there some protocol I need to observe here? No one has been in the least curious about who I am, which I suppose is part of the illusion, but we should keep up the facade."

 

"You're dressed as nobility. Commoners wont bother you with questions." he said. Though as they neared the citadel, both the buildings and the people on the streets became fancier. The houses became larger and the walls were made of stone instead of wood, the people wore colored clothes and jewelry.

The road slithered like a snake towards the citadel, and ended in a great square. From the square lead a long and wide up to the gates of the citadel. Another almost equally grand stair to the left lead to a large building that had no roof and only a big archway with no doors leading into it. On both sides of the archway was simple statues of dragons.
Each stairs had a couple of guards at the bottom; those by the citadel stairs had more traditional Nordic armor with a thick steel chainmail and leather padding with steel gauntlets and greaves along with a helmet that only covered the top half of the face. Those to the temple wore black, hooded robes that on the legs only covered the sides and behind, and had an embroidery of dragons and their letters in red. The temple guards only visible armor was a pair of spiked gauntlets and boots. Both sets of guards had spears, the dragon temple guards having crooked tips on theirs, and short swords at their side.

As they entered the square, a woman's scream was heard from the citadel. Looking up to the gates they saw a couple of black knights throw a woman in a blue, fancy dress down the stairs. She tumbled several times down the stairs till she finally stopped just a few steps from the bottom. She did not move and none made a move to help her. People stopped briefly to look at her in surprise but most also didn't seem to care if she was alright.

 

Leaving the guide, Maggie hurried forward and crouched down next to the woman, a heal spell blooming in her hand. "Can you speak?" she said, touching the woman's arm with the other hand before casting her spell.

 

All she got from her was a low grunt. The people at the square looked at Maggie with curiosity and confusion.

 

She cast the heal spell followed up by the stamina spell she used to wake her lovers from induced slumber. "Can you hear me? Someone up in the castle is obviously unhappy with you. What is your name?"

 

Low grunts was heard that quickly turned into sobbing and then weeping. "Ygna." she heard a low whisper say. 

 

"You should let her be, my lady." said one of the citadel guards at the stairs. "She's not worth your time."

 

"I shall decide what is the best use for my time," Maggie replied firmly, then turned back to the woman. Helping her to sit up, she said, "Speak. What caused these oafs to lose their manners in such rude fashion?"

 

"I... I... It's all my fault." she said in her crying, burying her face in her hands.

 

"That's not an answer to my question," Maggie said, though not unkindly. "Pull yourself together now. You're a Nord, aren't you? Tell me what happened."

 

"I... I met a man in the citadel. He was nice. We talked. We met a few more times and talked. I started to like him. This time we thought we were alone and..." she interrupted herself to cry intensely for a bit. "We were caught before we could do it by one of the king's men. He dragged us in front of the king. I was to be thrown out while he was to stay and... and... meet the king's wrath."

 

"And why should your liaison with this man be forbidden?" Maggie glanced at the guide to see if he had anything to offer by way of explanation.

 

"Because I am... I was one of the king's ladies." she sobbed. 

 

"Disgraceful, cheating whore," Maggie heard one of the guards mutter.

 

"Aha. Then your indiscretion was indeed unwise. Consider yourself fortunate to be alive and use this opportunity to make something better of yourself. It may require you to get your hands dirty, but at least you still have some. Come now. To your feet." Maggie helped the woman up, then called over a passing townswoman. "You look like an honest sort. Escort this woman to her family's home and take this gold for your trouble."

 

She turned back to the guide, simply assuming that her will would be done. "The wizard king's habits are much the same after all this time, I see. At any rate, onward. I wish to see this household."

 

"As you wish my lady." said the guide and led her up the stairs towards the citadel. "Her family wont take her back. She's publicly disgraced and has brought shame upon herself. They'll disown her and throw her out, much like the king did." he said while the two climbed the long stairs.

 

"Ridiculous. I thought the Nords would be more practical. Ah well, pouring mead in some tavern is not the worst fate."

 

"There's also a clan mentality, where her actions reflect upon her family. It is more practical to disown her than to live with the reputation to have cheated the king."

 

"True enough. Family is a harder burden than love by a long measure. Be glad that you are but an illusion."

 

They continued up the stairs and through the gate. Inside they entered a large, round courtyard of stone. In front of them was the heart of the citadel partially carved out of the mountain that covered half of the circle around the courtyard. In front of them and elevated up a few steps were a pair of double doors so large that each would require at least one grown man to open. On their sides was lesser, but still larger than normal, doors that lead into the citadel's outer sides. Directly to their sides behind them was stairs that led up to the walls. 

Two guards stood at each of the lesser doors and two on each side of the main entrance. They wore the same armor and weaponry as those at the bottom of the stairs.

 

Maggie inspected the courtyard and its impressive portals. "Is this architecture from Atmora, or some peculiar taste of the current king's?'

 

"We haven't gone to Atmora yet. It is told that this was built by the first king of Skyrim. One story say that he united the clans with the aid of the dragons and then built this place with them. Another less known and more forbidden story say he united the clans and built this place, and the dragons were so impressed by this that they forced him and his people to build grand temples in their honor."

 

"Oh yes? Then the legends some tell of Atmora as primeval homeland are false. At least in your master's recollection. But it is interesting that the dragons and Nords had such a long partnership. The empire chose its symbols well when they wished to harness the Nords' strength." Maggie approached the main doors.

 

The two guards at each side grabbed and pulled at a iron ring attached to each door. Slowly and with a rumble the doors slowly opened, revealing a great a hall that stretched far. Four long tables went along the hall towards a stair that led to an elevated position in the far end of the room where she recognized the stone doors to the inner parts of the citadel. A smaller table along with grander wooden chairs were placed to the wall on the side next to the stone doors. Along the walls on the sides were eight doors with a guard next to each.

 

"It does rather put the great hall in Windhelm to shame," Maggie said, her voice echoing from the rafters. "Though I don't know how they manage to heat the place. Magic, perhaps?"

 

"We don't really manage. We manage somehow with lots of fires and some magic for the winter solstice feast, but the rest of winter it's almost as cold as outside. That's probably why there isn't any other of this size, it's quite impractical and only really works for boasting."

 

"Illogic for the sake of prestige. I feel right at home. Empires were ever thus. May I see the library?"

 

"As you wish. Though only a few books were added to this dream. The rest will be blank." he said and motioned for her to lead towards the stone doors.

 

Maggie walked towards the stone doors and as soon as she got close they opened on their own. Steeping inside she found herself in a hallway she had seen before. Though last time there had been a few cracks in the walls. Now it looked well maintained and lit up by balls of blue fire that floated at the walls by regular interval. In the distance she saw people standing in the throne room. When she arrived she saw people in colorful and expensive clothing stand gathered in a half circle in front of the throne.

On the throne she saw the king, wearing a regal clothing in black, gold and red with white fur trims. On his head sat a crown of steel with gold inlay in in the shape of a circle with points like dragon teeth pointing up. One large diamond sat in the front tip and a rubies in the two on the sides. His sword was sheathed and leaning against the throne on the side. Sitting with his head leaned one hand, he looked rather bored.

 

On the side of the throne was a wooden chair behind a small wooden desk sat a young looking lady. She had light brown hair, an expensive gown and was so beautiful she was certainly one of the king's mistresses. On the desk was some paper, an ink well of steel and she held a quill in her hand, ready to write. 

 

In the middle of the room before the throne was a middle aged man in rich red clothing standing alone. It was clear that he was having an audience with the king as he blabbered on and on about some cattle, some land that his family had a dispute over with some other family, along with bringing up a several decades worth of history about their family feud.

 

Maggie observed a while, then said with a little grin, "Ah, and this sort of scene is also familiar. I wonder that the king would even wish to be back in such a position again in my time, after so long listening to courtiers drone. Power does have its singular draw, however."

 

"Power is a means to an end." he said and led Maggie around the courtiers, towards the hallway on the left, that was guarded by two knights in the same type of armor as the guide.

 

Maggie walked along the corridor and glanced over at the library doors on the left, but her attention was instead drawn to the door on the right. A treasury, she guessed, by the guarded door. "May I have a look?" she asked the door guards.

 

"Ehm, sure. But don't you already get enough from the king?" said the guard.

 

"Get? My dear, it is the emperor who gets from me. No, I wish to see what other baubles might be lying around. Historical treasures, that sort of thing."

 

"Emperor? What is an emperor?" asked the guard confused. 

 

"Just pretend you're a mistress wanting to take some money for shopping." Maggie heard her guide whisper into her ear.

 

"Ah. Silly me." She flashed the guard a winsome smile and said, "I need to find something beautiful to wear for the king tonight. You wouldn't wish him to be disappointed, would you?"

 

"No my lady." he said submissively. Then he began to fumble a little due to his gauntlets to get the key out from his belt. The key's head was round and flat like the head of a nail. The guard pressed the key into a small socked in the middle of the door and slowly turned it. The sound of gears turning came from within the door as the bars along the sides moved. The guard then pressed the door open for her, revealing the treasury. 

 

Inside was a large rectangular room with stone tables along the walls and the middle of the room. Dark steel chests lied between the the tables along the walls, a few with the lid open but most locked tight. On the tables lied several pieces of artefacts, ornate swords and pieces of armor, gems and other expensive rarities on display on fur blankets and cushions.

 

Maggie walked around giving the treasures an appraising eye. She stopped in front of a large, blood-red stone set on a base of black hands. It was rough cut, not polished like the other stones, but it pulsed slightly when she picked it up. "The blood of Lorkhan," she said, impressed. "Of course his sacrifice would not be forgotten in a place where the battle he fought is re-enacted over and over." She meant the conflict between elf and man.

 

"Depends on what you consider forgotten. We don't know anyone or anything by the name of Lorkhan. Only that that piece of stone holds power and importance."

 

"The Nords should remember their stories more. Ah well. It's the mead, I suppose." Maggie returned the stone to its base and walked on.

 

On top of a small in the shape of a three sided cone floated a small broken orb. The orb had a broken shell with a large, uneven hole that almost reduced the shell to half of it's original size. The shell looked to be made of a dark blue metal, almost like stalhrim polished to a shine, and was covered in black lines that crossed and intertwined in strange patterns.Through the broken hole could be seen the center of the orb which was a blue ball of light. Maggie could feel that a low and uneven but constant flow magicka emanating from the orb.

 

She didn't pick this object up, but did cast a diagnostic spell or two. "Not daedric in origin. The ancient Nord magic is fascinating. Stronger than the Thalmor suspect, as well. That is a hopeful thing."

 

"It is just broken relic. Though you may recognize the magic as that is what the king's power crystals are based on."

 

"Indeed. And even broken, it is powerful indeed." She continued through the treasury, selecting a delicate bracelet of sea stones and a set of heartstone earrings to take with her as a souvenir. Even if it was an illusion, she would play the part.

 

There was movement in the bedchamber as she came out, so Maggie leaned in to take a peek.

 

What Maggie saw was two women on the bed; one had long blonde hair and the other shorter dark red auburn hair. Both wore rather revealing gowns. The blonde woman was standing on her knees while the redheaded one was standing besides her, apparently forcing something into her mouth so much that she was retching and choking. The redheaded woman cackled a bit before finally pulling the thing out. The blonde woman fell forward on all four, couching and trying desperately to catch her breath.

 

"Obviously I'm interrupting," Maggie said from the doorway. "Is this some sort of ancient Nord foreplay I've never heard of? Fascinating."

 

"Oh, no. She's just practicing." said the redheaded woman with a little devious smile and held out to her side an ivory tusk, cut roughly phallus shaped. "You're the new one?" she asked and pointed at Maggie with the tusk.

 

"Just passing through. You need to work on your mental discipline, darling. Lying about here all day in your knickers won't help you in the slightest. Go learn archery or mathematics or spellcraft to train your mind, and then you won't need the leavings of some poor dead animal." Maggie's tone was cheerful but exasperated.

 

"I'm here for the luxury and fun. Why do I need to do anything as long as I can keep Krojun under my spell?"

 

"Krojun?" She glanced at the guide for explanation.

 

"The king you silly. Don't tell you don't know his real coronation name."

 

"Ah. And you imagine that you have him spelled, do you?"

 

"And why wouldn't I? I'm the first mistress, have been and I will remains so." she said. She then smacked the blonde woman on the bum so hard she yelped. "Get out." she ordered. The blonde woman crawled out of bed and jogged past Maggie out of the room.

 

"My dear, in this at least you are like a king: If you have to declare your title, you haven't earned it. Perhaps you should mix in some reading of history with this luxury and fun of yours. Then again, one can't get blood from a stone." With a wave of her hand, Maggie said, "I'll leave you to your tusk then. Pardon the intrusion."

 

To the guide, she said, "I wish to see the library now. You said there will only appear a few books. Do you take requests for what will appear? If so, then I should like to learn a new spell."

 

"There is a small spell book that was added to the dream." said the guide and gestured for her to lead the way out of the room. 

 

"Good bye, blood sucker!" shouted the redheaded woman with a small amount of glee.

 

"Ah, the head is not completely empty," Maggie said, glancing back at the bedchamber. "Some parts of this illusion are more convincing than others. Alright, let's see this small spell. A small one is better than none."

[Witchking of Angmar]

"You might find this somewhat useful." the guide said as they entered the library. It was pretty much as Maggie remembered it, except it was brighter and a little less dusty. The guide walked forth to the first bookshelf and picked down a book, which he then presented to Maggie.

 

Maggie brushed her fingers over the spines of the books, trying to decipher the titles that were in the dragon tongue and other ancient scripts. The spell book in question seemed to leap into her hands when she touched it.

 

This was in a more familiar daedric script. "Command Fool," Maggie read, then laughed. "Oh, yes. Skjari is at his best when he's practical." She took the book over to a corner table near a window that was white with blowing snowflakes. Also in practical fashion, it was merely an illusion rather than real snow. Sitting down, Maggie studied the book for some moments, then stood up again and opened her mouth.

 

Out came a deep, booming voice with Nord accent, not unlike Skjari's own. "SIT DOWN, IMBECILE."

 

Dissolving into laughter again, Maggie put the book back on the shelf. "Oh, divines. I can't wait to use that one on my idiot betrothed."

 

"Would you like to read something else or move on?" asked her guide.

 

"Nothing can top that, I'm sure. Lead on."

 

"Would my lady like to see the winter in the capital or the dragon temple?" he asked as he led her through the hallway and back the way they came.

 

"Dragons. Let's see the dragons. It is every imperial child's dream."

 

"As you wish, my lady." he answered. They walked past the the throne room, out the great hall, out of the citadel and back to the large square. There they took the stair guarded by the robed temple guards. When they reached the top they walked through a tall archway and into a what looked like another courtyard, surrounded by tall walls decorated with dragon effigies. In the far end was another archway leading out to some stairs that went up the mountain. In the middle of the courtyard was a dragon lying, the same she had seen by the gates to the city, seemingly resting. Maggie would have thought it sleeping if it weren't for its watchful eyes that looked straight at her.

 

Being so close to the magnificent creature, Maggie could understand why they had been a figure of worship and dread for so long, and why both the Nords and the empire appropriated them as a symbol of power. Her instinct was to speak to it, but she decided that that might not be a conversation she would survive, so she simply followed the guide and kept to his steps.

 

She was then approached by a robed man wearing a metal mask shaped like the upper head of a dragon. The eyes had horizontal slits to see through, the horns were large and the maw had teeth sticking out. The robe had metal scales along the outer side of the sleeves as well as along the middle of his chest.

"Is the lady here to make an offering and seek favor from the dragons?" he asked, his voice deep and giving out a faint echo from being under the mask.

 

"What is the customary offering?"

 

"Some gold to help with the upkeep of this temple is the most common. Some bring a sheep or a goat to be given directly to the Golzdrogdein."

 

"I'm short of farm animals at the moment, but you may have this." Maggie handed over her coinpurse. "It is apparent why people might fear you, but tell me what you do to aid the people. Heal? Feed the poor?"

 

The dragon priest bowed a little when he took the purse. "Healing is most often done by priestesses of Meara. But as most of our acolytes are mages, some do practice the arts of healing. Our primary duty is to keep the peace between the dragons and the people. The dragons also protect from the dangers of the unknown. The daedra and their worshipers that dare threaten us are dispatched by flame and ice."

 

"Warrior gods of a sort, then. Logical. It explains why your kind grow powerful when Shezarr is forgotten, and wane when he is on the rise. War leaders rarely tolerate competition. Do you also learn from your charges? Can you speak to them? The dragons, I mean, not the worshippers."

 

"Yes we can speak with them. We dragon priests learn their tongue so we can communicate with them. Dragons rarely like to speak in the mortal tongue."

 

"And what sort of things do you converse about? If a nosy wanderer is permitted to ask."

 

"Sometimes it's about how to keep order in the land. Sometimes it's about the dawn of time and the dragons' birth. Sometimes we seek their council on matters we do not understand."

 

"And do they aid you in wars against the elves?"

 

"Generally if the elves push too far into our lands, then yes."

 

"We could use the same in our own time. Maybe Skjari can pull a dragon out of his wizard hat." She glanced back at the sleeping dragon, still thinking about that dragon ride.

 

"Thank you for your offering." said the dragon priest with another bow and then left Maggie to her own.

"Nothing short of a reinstatement of the dragon temple or an offering greater than anything seen in a long time would get the Empire any dragon's aid." said her guide.

 

"Ah, but Skyrim has already seen a dragon war in my time, with some dragons bowing to the command of humans. I only don't know if they can be made to care about the Thalmor."

 

"They would care if they thought their worshipers were in danger. Though there is only one alive now, and he isn't that religious."

 

"Worshippers. I'm afraid that ship has sailed and the dragons will have to content themselves with lesser glories. A fate my empire must share."

 

"Only time will tell. And the dragons can and will wait for their time to come."

 

"You're an optimist. Good man. I try to do the same. It's easier for those of us who deal in immortality of one kind or another. I thank you for the visit."

 

Maggie turned to the guide. "It would be a pity to end this tour, but I can feel my body weakening somewhat. Is there something else you would show me?"

 

"There is the sacrifice of a heretic and a visit to the winter solstice feast."

 

"A heretic? Ooh, this sounds promising."

 

"Follow me." said the guide. He led them around the dragon and to the other end of the temple. When they exited the temple they stepped out in what looked like another, smaller courtyard. In front of the was some stairs that went from side to side up far along the mountain wall.

 

Her guide then dissipated into thin air as he had done before. She felt her clothes change and when she looked down she saw a robe, not really unlike the dragon priest, but black and with a green embroidery in a similar style as the temple guards. 

 

"Only priests, acolytes and honorary members are allowed up there." she heard the voice from behind, though it didn't have that submissive tone which made her think it was Skjari speaking again. She turned around to see him standing there in the same robe, but with the embroidery being in silver instead of green. He wore a metal mask that at first glance looked the same as the dragon priests, but lacked teeth and had smaller horns. In his hand he carried another such mask which he held out to Maggie.

 

Maggie smiled and took the mask. "I love costume parties. Who's the unlucky fellow being fed to the dragon?"

 

"It's a long story." he said and held out arm for Maggie to take, then they began to walk up the stairs. "It's the leader of a daedric cult from a town at the edge of the kingdom. And the grandfather of the redheaded woman you met earlier."

 

"Was her grandfather sleeping with her as well?" Maggie sounded impressed.

 

"Not that I know of. What I do remember is that she sold her family out for a position at my court."

 

"Sold them out? Are they traitors?"

 

"Long story short: I was called upon for a small crusade against the town. A night of terror with monstrous daedra, crazed townsfolk and lots of bloodshed later the daedra worshipers fled and hid in mountains. She came to me and sold out their hideout and their plans for the promise of being spared and that I took her to my court. I had intended for her to become a court servant, serving drinks and such. But she had other plans which she managed to fulfill."

 

"I suppose this hamlet did something to deserve such subduing. You wanted such a craven and turncoat at your court?"

 

"Not really. But she proved herself rather loyal. And she was quite honest about her motivation: she wanted to live the high life. You should also be a little careful about condemning her as you were also a turncoat when we met in the White Gold tower. And what the town did: lets say they killed the dragon priest sent to the town and somehow also killed the dragon that was to take up residence there."

 

"Amaund was hardly an innocent villager," Maggie replied. "I have to tell you, this dragon cult reminds me rather of the Thalmor. The only ritual murder an imperial priest might commit is boring people to death with his sermons."

 

"The dragons want maintain their sovereignty. Is this really that different from me executing an enemy to make an example?"

 

"Are you compelling people to worship you now? I should hope not."

 

"By sovereignty I just means no one challenging your authority. And I wouldn't be able to handle worshipers, I prefer people going to a temple to complain about their problems than to me."

 

"Our emperors did delve into the mystical for the show, but I rather think all this..." Maggie gestured around her. "... is indicative of how not to go about it. People want spectacle, but this compulsion of worship through fear has never worked. Take your Stormcloaks and their rebellion against the Talos ban. And no one remembers this dragon cult of yours any longer."

 

"Tinvaak, our high dragon priest thought something similar. He preached that the dragon temple would need to be inclusive to survive. That's why there was anything such as 'honorary members'; people outside the dragon temple that through 'great acts of service' could be granted privileges within the temple. Pity his teachings didn't seem to stick. But enough about theology, do you find the dream satisfactory?"

 

"It is marvelous. Now I have to ask an impertinent question. Is this really you, Skjari, or only an echo you implanted in that scroll? Are you here consciously, I mean?"

 

"A form of echo. As the other part of me here said: I'm just a collection of thoughts and memories."

 

"Ah. It's remarkable nonetheless. I hadn't imagined such power could reside in a simple scroll."

 

"I had to look up a few details for this to work though." he said, like he was a little ashamed for doing so. "I wish I could have given more."

 

"Because your memories have faded?"

 

"Partially. But also because I feel this is rather token gift. This is just a small drop of what once was."

 

"One can only ever see and feel a small part of what is. This is a remarkable achievement. I'll want to know how you do it, if we ever see one another again."

 

"So you're not coming back?"

 

"Eventually. I would like to travel again, and not only for my own sake. You will need eyes and ears now more than ever."

 

"Hmm. I just get the notion that I might want to decimate the world's male population after that."

 

Maggie glanced over, raising a brow. "Jealousy? I'm flattered."

 

"Are you really?"

 

"Of course I am. And this is a marvelous gift you have given me, better than jewels. Are we not the same, you and I? After a few hundred years, it all becomes a bit wearisome. To see something new is a treasure. You know I will have to write about this, don't you? In some form, not that anyone would recognize you in it."

 

"I expected that you would. Just send me a copy once you're done. And if you send me a letter, I can provide a map and a summary of important laws and major events. If you want that is. And I would like to know you have recieved my gift."

 

"I will. Now let's see this sacrifice. It should be most interesting."

 

 

Skjari didn't reply as the continued up the stairs. It was long path and the city grew smaller below them. Maggie could see further and further in the distance how the forests stretched along the mountains and how grass fields covered the rest like a sea of green grass. The air got colder and thinner, the latter she could only tell by Skjari's deeper and heavier breaths. 

 

Soon they reached a cliff sticking out of the mountain side. It had been carved out like a great amphitheatre with a very large stage that was more like a field. The seats were almost all taken, all in robes and masks like the two wore. Maggie noticed though that there seemed to be a divide between the left and right half of the attendants; the right half had finer robes but masks without teeth and small horns, while the right half had masks with bigger horns and teeth in the maws, along with scaled steel that went along the shoulder and upper arms of their sleeves. She assumed it was a divide between the cult's acolytes and the these 'honorary members' Skjari had mentioned before. 

 

The whole place was still as Skjari lead the two towards the middle of the first row, where some space was left empty. The two sat down an wited a little moment. Then came a few more people up the stairs that walked out onto the plane. The first one was the dragon priest she had spoken to below in the temple and he was followed by two temple guards, both carrying the chains to a half naked man walking between them. The man seemed to in his early fifties and had short brown hair and a thick moustache and no beard. He wore nothing but a piece of brown cloth wrapped around his hips and the shackles around his wrists had red draconic runes that emanated a light red glow. 

 

They led the man a bit out on the platform and there they stood. The dragon priest began to preach to sky in the sky in the dragon tongue. Maggie felt Skjari lean closer and whisper in her ear: "Hear me, great dragons." he said in a very formal tone, which she then understood that he was translating the dragon priest. "For we have savage that must pay for his defiance. Come and purify him with your Voice." 

 

A few minutes passed with silence and only the wind moaning. Then they heard a roar, then a few. Soon a black dragon came flying the mountains, followed by two others a bit later. The black dragon was in a serpentine shape and Maggie vaguely remembered it from the cave outside Skjari's home in the current times. The black dragon landed on the platform before the dragon priest. The other two was almost about to land but black dragon roared at them. The two then roared back a little before flying to the mountains above and landing on a couple of crags to overlook it all. 

 

"Great dragon." she heard Skjari whisper as the dragon priest began to shout again. "We have a savage for you to cleans and devour." The dragon then puffed some smoke from the nostrils at the dragon priest as it raised it's head solemnly. The dragon priest turned around the half naked man that stood there, looking at the dragon while crouching in fear. The temple guards suddenly lowered their spears and thrust them into the back the man's knees. He let out a cry of pain and fell to his knees. Then the guards pulled the chains to the shackles so the man was forced to stand there on his knees, with his arms outstretched slightly upwards, with his chest completely exposed. 

 

The dragon priest walked forth to the man and put his hand on the bare chest. An incantation was heard but it was too low to make out the words. The half naked man screamed in pain as the priest spoke and cast the spell. Suddenly the man's chest burst open, the entire front section of the ribcage torn out to the sides, like two doors suddenly being flung wide open. The man stopped screaming but he was still alive and conscious, probably due to the dragon priest's magic. The dragon priest, still chanting the incantation, shoved his hand into the man's chest which caused him to scream in pain some more. With one quick pull, the dragon priest ripped the heart out of man's chest. Still beating he held up the heart in the air. Then spectral image and light emerged from the man and was sucked into the heart. 

 

The man's body became limp and lifeless while heat got a slight glow to it. The dragon priest turned around walked slowly towards the black dragon, still holding the glowing and beating heart high. The dragon lowered it's head to the priest's head height and opened it's maw. Slowly and carefully the dragon priest put the heart in the dragon's mouth and then slowly backed away. The dragon shut it's mouth and swallowed the heart. It said something to the priest which Maggie heard Skjari translate: "It was a worthy sacrifice." 

 

With a roar the dragon stretched out it's wings and took off. The two other dragons swooped down from their vantage points and landed on the platform. The dragon priest and guards withdrew from the platform, leaving the dead body standing limp on it's knees alone. The dragons hurried to the dead man and one of them spoke a couple of words in a mighty voice, followed by a stream of fiery flame that roasted the body. While these dragons hadn't gotten the main course, they intended to feast on the remains. And so they began to tear the body apart between them and eat it.

 

Maggie strained her head to see the dragon's reaction. She had gasped along with everyone else as the dragons appeared in the sky. Even if you had seen a dragon before, the long wait for the blood sacrifice had made it seem momentous. As the beasts flew off again, she watched the blood seeping across the stage and licked her lips unconsciously.

 

"The dragons are more subdued than I expected," she said to Skjari's shadow at her side. "I'm used to those from the recent stories of villages being savaged. I suppose the worship does placate them. Tell me. Are you in charge over the dragon priests, or do they dictate to you?"

 

"Neither and both. It's a little complicated. I'm the one that the army and nobility answer directly to. I'm the one the dragon priests have to adhere to in matter of politics. But they can make requests. While I can deny these requests, doing it too often would result in me falling out of favour. Which I shouldn't have to say is a bad thing."

 

"Do you mostly agree with them then? I can't imagine they enjoy sharing power."

 

"That depends on which dragon priest. In my time many, but not all, took it more as a spiritual calling to keep peace between man and dragon. That's how it all began and that was their duty. But there were of course those that thought themselves rulers by some kind of divine decree. I supported those that wanted to keep the peace. I knew a dragon war would be devastating."

 

"That was wise. This one's pet dragon destroys that one's pet village, all very messy. It seems that it all did get out of hand in Atmora and then again in latter Skyrim. No doubt there were weaker kings, or those with multiple sons."

 

"Don't get me starting on the inheritance system with multiple spouses. Though at least it was only limited to those with the title Jarl or above."

 

"And your inheritance?"

 

"With no children and no legal wife, I had a little trouble appointing an heir for when I left. So I married the most capable mistress, stayed married for a little while and then left."

 

"Capable." Maggie smiled impishly. "Did you love her?"

 

"No. And I don't mean capable in that sense. Even if it would also be true."

 

Maggie nodded, understanding. "I have to go soon, Skjari. Your letter found me at a trying time and my body is not as strong as it should be."

 

"To leave the dream you need to leave what the dream encompasses. Travel out of the city, along the road and past the point of where you awoke."

 

Maggie nodded, then said, "Unless there is something else written into the scroll which I haven't seen?"

 

"A few things. Most minor. Biggest is a brief visit to the winter solstice feast."

 

"I would like that. Will you accompany me, or does the king not attend?"

 

"I wouldn't be much of a king I didn't attend." he said and got up from his seat. "Shall we?"

 

Maggie rose and took his arm. "Will there be any executions at this feast?"

 

They began walking towards and down the stairs. "No, but there is usually a few duels. Only for show, so don't expect any deaths."

 

"Ancient Nords are tamer than I expected."

 

"It's such a pain to bury people in winter. You should see the great moot that is in summer. There feuds are settled by duels to the death."

 

"It's just for convenience, then?" Maggie laughed. "Good. My notions of barbarism are restored."

 

"Depends on what you consider barbarism. We considered ourselves rather civilized."

 

"We're all barbarians, my sweet Skjari. The empire never learned that, and now it must or we all become whores."

 

"And which side do you fall on?"

 

"Are you asking if I'm loyal? I suppose it's fair, given that I am, as you pointed, a turncoat. A turncoat of several colors. I am a child of the empire, simple as that. I believe in her still. I wager that I have given more for her than many who haven't spilled blood. If the Thalmor or my enemies in the Order don't catch up with me, I have more yet to give."

 

"I'm also asking if you're the kind that keeps a couple of handmaiden thralls for whenever you need a snack, or if you sell out your body whenever the hunger becomes too great."

 

"My mention of whores prompted this thought?" Maggie's eyes flashed and she wagged a chiding finger. "Mind the limits of that jealousy or it shall cease to be flattering. To answer your impertinent question: Neither. I keep no thralls as my father was wont to do. It's crass and offers the mere illusion of power. As for what I do with my body, I prefer to think of it as a mutually beneficial arrangement. I give a man the illusion of transcendence, and he gives me life and warmth. A fair exchange, I think."

 

"A fair exchange? One thing I've never liked about you is that you seem to lack the guts to take. Not that it really matters now."

 

"To use force, you mean? Why should I?"

 

"Not necessarily by force. But taking means you don't put yourself at the mercy of the whims others."

 

"If the whims are innocent, I see no reason not to use them for my ends. Or even if they are not."

 

"Take it as words from someone that had to climb to the top of this beautiful, but unforgiving land." he said and motioned to view over the landscapes below. "But as I said: I don't think it matters much what I think about you anymore."

 

"You have your ways and I have mine. Nor do I desire to sit on top of a mountain, so don't worry about me."

 

"Don't worry, I wont. And any jealousy I have will pass as I find comfort in another woman."

 

"Had you not already? In any case, our lives are long, Skjari. We shall see each other again, I'm sure."

 

"I might already have. I don't know how long this dream has lain dormant since I created it. And we shall see. I must survive a war first. And I hope we might regard each other as friends if that time ever comes."

 

"I would be honored. If I may offer a bit of advice from my father's life: Beware the one you think you control."

 

"Pity that advice will be lost once the dream is over."

 

"I'll tell Skjari myself." Maggie smiled. "The least I can do is offer him a little story of what I saw here."

 

"Still a pity you wont return. Though I guess it'll make things easier with Lilly."

 

"If I return to Cyrodiil, it will be as matron countess in Skingrad. It's a fate I don't mind putting off." Maggie paused. "I do miss Skjari. That is... unexpected."

 

"How so?"

 

"I am not accustomed to sentimentality."

 

"If you're unaccustomed to it, does that make me special in some way?"

 

She paused again. "I had not expected such a question, either. The wizard is perhaps more sentimental than I suspected. Skjari and I met at an important time, twice in fact. During my test in the Jeralls and later on at the height of multiple crises. He... I enjoyed our time together. That is unusual."

 

"Do you wish to see me again? The real me."

 

"I do. Though I suspect he is busy with empire, wife and heir."

 

"I probably am. But how much do you wish?"

 

Maggie laughed. "Is this a test? You don't even know if you still want to see me."

 

"True, I don't know. But I guess there is only one way to find out."

 

"I won't let him go to war without hearing from me. By then I hope I will have intelligence worth a personal visit, as well."

 

"I don't care about intelligence. Can you keep a promise?"

 

"An emperor must care, whether he wants to or not. I certainly can."

 

"Are you familiar with the recall spell?"

 

"Naturally. I am a trained nightblade."

 

"Can you promise to never betray me?"

 

Maggie's expression grew solemn. "As long as I am not betrayed. I know who my allies are."

 

"I'll keep you to that promise." He then pulled out a scroll out of his sleeve and held to Maggie. "If you accept my invitation to my home that is."

 

She took the scroll and regarded it a moment, glancing up at the man's face, still obscured by the dragon mask. The voice was familiar enough. Her vigil in the cold and loneliness had taken its toll, and the familiarity stirred in her a pang of longing. She glanced back up at the figure of the wizard. "After the festival, then?"

 

"I was more thinking of the late afternoon, right before the hour of twilight has arrived. I usually go home to think and maybe talk with Vullokein at that time."

 

"I'll try it. I have no idea how much time has passed, only that I shouldn't linger here too long."

 

"There's always a tomorrow."

 

"Is there?" Maggie smiled and removed her mask. "I suppose if we are lucky."

 

"You can always come and visit. There's the library. And if you're not too scared, Vullokein could always use a little cheering up. Just be mindful what you say."

 

"I'll remember. Come, my king. Show me this festival of Magnus' rise and fall."

[Witchking of Angmar]

"As you wish." he said. Soon the sky was covered in clouds and quickly began to fade into night. Light drops of snow fell all around them. By the time they reached the bottom of the stairs, the city was covered in a thick layer of snow and black night sky stretched across the heavens. 

 

As they passed through the dragon temple, their clothes changed from robes to regal clothes. Maggie wore the dress from before, but along with a soft fur cloak neatly wrapped around her. The echo of Skjari wore something similar to what he had worn in the throne room, but with a lot more fur trimmings and a thick fur cloak wrapped around his shoulders and hanging down his back till it reached the ground where a bit of it dragged itself in the snow. 

 

As they went through the archway leading out the temple, Maggie saw that the square had been filled with joy and life. Three large pyres had been made around the square and around each pyre was several tables and benches arranged. People sat there by the pyres, feasting, drinking, talking, boasting, making bad jokes and laughing. The festivities wasn't limited to the square as Maggie caught a glimpse of other fires and feasts further down the broad main street she had arrived by.

 

After the grim aspect of the citadel and dragon temple, it was heartening to see the familiar boorishness and cheer of the Nords. "They haven't noticed you, or are too drunk to care," she observed.

 

"A bit of both." he said as they descended the stairs into the festivities of the square. A few of the people that noticed them raised their tankards and said: "To the king!" in their drunken manner before quickly going back to drinking and eating.

 

Maggie grabbed a mug of something hot and eye-wateringly alcoholic from a passing serving wench, and laughed at the antics of a bard who was singing while standing on his head. One particularly reckless table was engaging in an axe catching contest. A man with a heavy red beard lost concentration for a moment and howled as the axe he was trying to catch buried itself in his hand instead.

 

Turning to Skjari's echo, she said, "I didn't expect this when I woke up this morning, so who knows about tomorrow. But I will seek out your home, which I remember well."

 

"Good. The place could stand to see some life. It's been like tomb for so long."

 

"That's an ironic request, considering what I am." Maggie laughed and sipped at the toxic brew. "I suppose by now we are the same, an unnatural life. Are you trying to get this back?" She gestured with her mug at their surroundings, meaning the entire kingdom.

 

"No. The Skyrim I knew is gone. And I don't need the throne in Windhelm to visit these mountains."

 

"And Cyrodiil?"

 

"Power is a means to an end."

 

"What end?"

 

"Killing the Thalmor, getting the biggest bed, keeping the most beautiful women," he softly brushed her cheek as he said that. "eating the tastiest food till my belly is full, and a strange satisfaction of creating great things."

 

"Only all that?" Maggie smirked. "It's not a bad plan. I want to help keep my country intact, in some form."

 

"I've never been a patriot. But I do care about what I consider mine."

 

"I have no family, so I must love our citizens as my own. And the games we play to survive, I admit there is a thrill to it."

 

A bonfire had risen up in the square near where they stood, and Nords were beginning to dance around it. Maggie gestured. "Do you dance?"

 

"I'm afraid I never got around to it."

 

"No time like the present." Maggie took his hand and drew him towards the bonfire. The Nords were circling in concentric rings, and as soon as she got near one of them grabbed Maggie's hand and drew her in.

 

Skjari managed to follow her but his attempt at dancing wasn't very graceful. Though with so many drunk Nords he didn't exactly stand out in that department. They managed one lap around the bonfire before the Nord behind him stepped on his long fur cloak so he lost his balance and fell backwards, pulling Maggie and the other Nord with him.

 

Maggie landed square on the king's chest, with the big bearded Nord pinning her between them. He groaned drunkenly, not sure if the square was spinning or his head. Maggie squirmed, but there was no getting out from under the pile, so she waved her fingers, having experienced enough of Skjari's illusion magic that she was able to weave small changes into it herself. A moment later the drunken Nord was face down in the snow and, several feet away, Maggie was still resting on the king's chest. "Well," she said, smiling down at him. "You are just full of surprises."

 

"I have to say this one surprised me as well." he said with a little chuckle.

 

"We live death every day. There must be some nod to life." Maggie paused, but decided she would wait to kiss the real Skjari. Standing, she pulled his shadow up after her, and brushed the snow from her cloak, though more was falling, clinging to it and to her hair.

 

"So I guess it's time for this dream to end." he said solemnly. "You said your body was weakening."

 

"Sadly so. My circumstances were not the best when I opened the scroll, but I couldn't resist. Thank you for your company." Maggie curtsied slowly, and smiled, gesturing back towards the path. "Walk with me until the dream ends?"

 

"If that is your wish." he said and held out his arm. Maggie took it and they began to walk down the path of the large main street that Maggie had arrived by.

 

Along the path, she opened the scroll he had given her by the light of the two moons, and committed the instructions there to memory. They walked a little further along and in the blink of an eye she awoke in the bedroom at Volkihar Castle, still feeling the touch of snowflakes on her face and the pressure of Skjari's hand over her arm.