Chapter 52

I turned around to face Silus, who was standing by himself. “I’ll ... I’ll give you gold, just let me live.”

“I am a woman of my word. In the name of Uriel Septim ... FUS RO DAH!” Silus flew backwards off the ledge, sailing through the air for close to a hundred feet before hitting a rock outcropping. I stood still, watching him die.

From behind me Lydia shouted, “Okay, you got the revenge for your family. Now will you give us a hand?”

That broke my concentration. I turned to see the Dremora trying to get through the shield wall of Lydia and Jordris, sorely testing them. Serana and Madena were standing back using spells against the Dremora, while Erandur was busy casting healing spells upon my ladies.

“Sorry about that!” I drew my sword and jumped onto the altar, then down, behind the Dremora. I skewered one through the back, killing it immediately. Another turned towards me.

“I honor my Lord, by destroying you!” it yelled.

“Better beings than you have tried, and you will suffer their same fate!” I backed up my comments with a twist of my sword that sliced the head off the Dremora. When that happened, it gave Lydia and Jordris the opportunities they needed, to make the killing blows against their own targets.

Madena collapsed to the ground. Serana was at her side in an instant. “Are you all right, Madena? Erandur, come here, help her!” Madena was simply fanning herself and breathing in short gasps.

After a couple of moments, she said, “I’m ... I’m fine. That’s just ... that was just the ... the most excitement I think ... think I’ve had in years!” Erandur gave her a skin with some wine in it. She quickly took a gulp of it. “Ah, thank you. By the gods, how do you ladies do this every day?”

Serana helped her to her feet. “It helps having someone to follow, to believe in. I mean, look at me.” She smiled, allowing her fangs to show. “I was ... was being the key word here ... a vampire. Literally the treasure that Silus was talking about. I still have the fangs, maybe I’ll always have them. But following Martina has returned my humanity.”

Madena looked down where Serana was holding her by the hand. “You’re ... you’re warm. She made you this way? I can tell there’s no glamour, this is ... unbelievable! And your Majesty? What was it you said about your grandfather? The last Septim, Uriel Septim was killed more than two hundred years ago.”

“I’ll explain later. We still have some unfinished business here.” I made sure all of the shards and pieces of the Razor were still on the altar to Dagon. “Erandur, would you be so kind as to ask Mara to destroy this Daedric artifact?”

From above, the voice of Dagon shouted out, “No! This cannot be! I will send a legion of Dremora to stop you! I will reward you with countless treasures if you stay your hand, priest of Mara!”

“Mehrunes Dagon, hear now the word of the Dragonborn, the word of the daughter of the heroine of the Oblivion Crisis, she who was there when you were banished from Cyrodiil, the word of the daughter of Martin Septim, the living avatar of Akatosh, who sacrificed himself to banish you from Cyrodiil, the word of the daughter of the Lady Sheogorath herself!

“Two hundred years have passed here on Mundus. Your schemes with Lord Molag Bal have been disrupted. His power from Coldharbour has been weakened with the death of the Volkihar Vampire Lord Harkon. Your schemes with Mephala has been disrupted. Her power from the Silver Skein has been weakened by the intervention of Sithis, acting through me as his agent. Your scheme with Vaermina has been disrupted with the destruction of her Skull of Corruption. Your schemes with Malacath have been disrupted, he has named me his Champion and awarded me Volendrung! The Four Corners of the House of Troubles are no more!”

Erandur jumped when I said that. He was Dunmer and knew exactly what I was talking about. He still kept up the chanting to Mara.

“I am the Champion of Meridia and can wield Dawnbreaker in her name. And I have the blessing of Talos. Your influence here in Skyrim will be no more! Your influence in my realm will be no more! You are the prince of revolution. There is no more civil war here, no more revolution. Your influence here is finished. You are banished to your realm. Contemplate your failure there.”

“I shall have my revenge upon you, Dragonborn. The Dragonfires have not be lit, cannot be lit again! I shall find you, crush you, render you...”

“Oh, shut up already. I know the truth. You’re trapped in Oblivion. The barriers were sealed permanently when my father sacrificed himself using the Amulet of Kings, while he was the King of Tamriel, a true Septim King. Just as I am a true Septim Queen. You have failed, Dagon. Miserably.”

The scream of anguish from the Daedric Prince who had come so close to conquering all of Tamriel a mere two centuries ago was loud, strong, and at the same time, pathetic to hear. It was also abruptly cut off when Erandur finished his prayer and the shards of the Razor crumpled to dust. Erandur was sweating profusely from the power he had just channeled, and sat down in a hurry himself.

“My, that was ... exciting. Even more so than everything we did in Nightcaller Temple. I felt the hand of Lady Mara working through me in that prayer. Amazing!”

I could see the wind start to pick up. “Lydia, the dust! Gather it quickly.” She obeyed without question, brushing all the dust from the Razor into a bag.

“Did I get it all?” she asked as the wind died off again.

“So long as you got most of it. I think it will make a good mix for mortar, perhaps in the base to a new Shrine to Mara.”

Jordris had removed the hearts from the Dremora for later and found something. “My Queen, one of these Dremora has a key. Any bets it’s for that door over there?”

“Well, Madena, up for a little treasure hunting? I’m quite certain that the Shrine to a Daedric Prince, even one who now has no influence in this realm, has a bit of wealth inside.”

“Um, you’ll be going in as well, right?”

“Of course. Come on, follow us.”

There were only three Dremora inside. They all died from arrows before even drawing their swords. I had Jordris give Madena the hearts from the ones inside, then made sure the two residents of Dawnstar had all the treasure within. Erandur commented, “This will go a long way towards establishing a proper Shrine to Mara in Dawnstar. I ... I just don’t know what to say.”

“I do.” Madena said. She walked over to me and gave me a kiss. “Thank you.”

As we were leaving the Shrine, I looked back up at the figure of Mehrunes Dagon, the stature carved from the rock. “Serana, I know you know all the frost spells. Madena, do you know the flame spells?” She looked puzzled but nodded.

“Good. Come with me.” We climbed up the side of the mountain until we were even with the head of the statue of Dagon. “I have half a dozen restore magic potions. Here, take them. I want to try something.” The rock was hard, almost granite.

“Madena, you and I will send concentrated flames right at the neck of the statue. We’ll keep that up for a bit. I want to heat that rock up as hot as we can make it. When we’re about exhausted for magic, Serana, hit it with freezing.”

“Isn’t that a smithing technique, heating and quenching?” Serana asked.

“Yes, but just as soon as you’ve sent the cold towards it, I’m then going to hit it with a lightning bolt. Be ready, because if what I think is going to happen, there’s going to be flying rocks everywhere.”

It was spectacular, more than I expected. I was hoping only to decapitate the Shrine. There must have been a flaw within the rock ... or perhaps a little influence from the Shivering Isles. When my lightning bolt hit, the head simply exploded. I felt shards of rock bounce off my armor, with a couple making slight cuts on my face. Then, with a cracking sound, the torso of the statue split in half straight down the middle, breaking the arms off, and suddenly the whole thing collapsed in a heap of crumpled stone, half blocking the door we’d recently used, and a huge chunk of the left knee fell forward, smashing the altar to bits.

In the cloud of dust, Madena coughed out, “Was that what you were expecting?”

“Not in the least. Quite a bit more, actually. But I feel better.” And I did, I felt energized and charged, my cuts healed themselves as the power of the gods flowed through me. From out of nowhere, a voice I was quite familiar with came from behind us. “You have made your mother a very happy woman, child. You learned my lessons well.”

“Uncle Haskill!” I ran to him, trying to give him a hug. My hands went through him.

“I’m sorry, child, I cannot physically be there. But you and your companions have earned a boon with your actions. I think they’ll all be happy. Farewell.” He vanished.

“Um, Martina, who or what was that?” Serana asked.

“Uncle Haskill. Well, he’s not really my uncle, but he’s my mother’s chamberlain. He taught me ... well, a lot. I remember him doing the fire, ice, and lightning trick on one of the Obelisks that needed to be moved so we could build a bridge. Mother could have just willed it away, of course, but ... gods, she’s tricky. I bet she let him do that just so I would know what to do today.”

We gathered around the remnants of the altar, gathering our gear so we could depart. I felt that it was time to talk about some things, after this victory.

“I said I would explain things to you. So as way of explanation, Madena, I grew up in the Shivering Isles. My mother was the heroine of the Oblivion Crisis, but fled Cyrodiil after the death of Martin, pregnant and expecting a child, me. The Imperial Council would never have let her rule as my regent. The place she fled to, well, she ended up replacing Sheogorath, and thus ascended to becoming the Daedric ruler there. In the realm of the Daedra, the will of the ruler applies. So while in one respect I’m more than two hundred years old, I’m really not.”

“The things you talk about so lightly ... I’ve never heard of anyone living who talked back to a Daedric Lord like you did ... and lived.” Madena looked stunned.

“I’ve been her Thane and followed her into battle after battle. Trust me, this isn’t the first time she’s been mouthy with a Daedric Prince. Thing is...” Lydia smiled, then shook her head. “Thing is, one thing I’ve learned is that this isn’t their realm. They basically have unlimited power in their own realms. But this...” she spread her hands wide. “Nirn is our realm, given to us by the Aedra from their very essence. They created us, this world, for us.”

“In case you’re wondering, my Thane, Surgus loaned me several of his books while you were busy. Serana and I spent many hours studying those books, because the Psijic Order has an interesting theory about just why we’re all here, one that we argued about, but the more I’ve seen, the more I think is right.” She got quiet then, looking pensive.

Serana sighed. “Yes, as much as I didn’t want to think it, I’m also coming to the same conclusion.” She also didn’t look happy.

Both Madena and Erandur looked between my companions, waiting for one of them to continue. When neither did, Madena finally asked, “Okay, what theory is that?”

I spoke up. “That we’re all just pieces in a game.” Lydia and Serena both looked shocked that I already knew what they were thinking.

“What in Mara’s name are you talking about?” Erandur quizzed.

“It’s simple, really. I’m certain you’ve both seen a game of chess being played or played it yourselves.” They both nodded. “The two players move their pieces, in accordance with the rules of the game, seeking a strategy for victory. The pieces are moved, maneuvered, jockey for position, for power, for control, and engage in combat. Eventually one side or the other wins. And even the lowliest piece can become the most powerful should it survive and gain promotion.”

“Fuck, you’re saying that Surgus was right all along?” Lydia cursed.

“For what he and his Order know, yes. Only this realm, Nirn, isn’t a board set up with two players. It’s a board with nearly four dozen players, some major, some minor, all jockeying for position, for power, for control of the board, control of everything. Yes, I’m talking about the Divines and all the Daedric Lords. And to a certain extent, we’re their pieces, their pawns, in whatever game it is they’re playing.”

Erandur blinked several times. “That makes ... a twisted sort of sense. I’ve ... well, I’ve sensed many different things since I changed who I worship. I wondered why I would change my way of thinking. I thought perhaps I was afraid. But from what you say now, I think perhaps that Lady Mara put that fear in me then, so I would be her instrument now.”

We started back towards Dawnstar, continuing to talk while we rode. “It’s possible. It depends how far out the players think, and how desperate they become. Molag Bal had a plan in the works for thousands of years to conquer Tamriel and maybe all of Nirn with vampires. Fortunately...” I smiled at Serana, then rode closer to her, to take her hand. “it failed. Some of the same things apply for the other plots. Because there’s...” I stopped suddenly.

Serana gave my hand a squeeze. “There’s what, Martina?”

“Of course. Now it all makes perfect sense to me. Surgus, I hope you’re around, I think this is something we need to talk about.” I received no response. “Figures. The one time I need to discuss something with him, he’s not watching.”

Madena looked puzzled. “Who is this Surgus you’re mentioning?”

“A Psijic monk. You’re a mage, you know how the Psijic Order tries to see how things happen, what’s going to happen, almost like Mephala spinning her webs. That brings up something I’m curious about. Your field of study was the destruction arts, yet you seem to abhor violence. Why?”

“I’m from Wayrest. Many of my friends were killed when raiders sacked the city, and my magic just wasn’t enough to help them. I vowed to learn more, sharpen my skills, so it wouldn’t happen again. I did, I became well versed in destruction. Then, during the Great War, my magic ... I killed so many. It sickened me, the amount of violence I saw then ... the bloodshed. I decided then and there to change my life, to help people and to not engage in war. It’s been more than two decades since then. That’s why I was asking Skald for permission to return to High Rock. I could see the war coming to Dawnstar, and I didn’t want to kill, not again.”

“There’s another war coming. This one will also be against the Thalmor. I won’t ask you to kill in anger again. But ... if need be, defend Dawnstar, the people there.”

“I can and will do that, Your Majesty. But what was it you said you wanted to discuss?”

“Simple. What would happen to a game of chess if the pieces decided to play the game themselves, taking over from the players?”

Serana thought she got it first. “Of course, your mother. She was human, but now she’s a Daedric Lord. She’s completely messing with all sorts of plans by you being here. Her own agenda seems to be winning.”

“You’re only partially right. My father also was Akatosh, and ... think about one other. The Ninth Divine, Tiber Septim, now Talos.”

“To what end?” Her face became puzzled. “I don’t understand.”

“Simple. Free will for the people of Skyrim, of Tamriel, possibly of all Nirn. An end to these ... prophecies. An end to manipulation by the Daedric. We live our lives, do what we want ... without any strings being pulled. And speaking of strings, now that we’ve arrived back in Dawnstar, let me go make my farewells to the Jarl. We must be off to Solitude.”

“You’ve given me a lot to think about about. Your Majesty. Thank you.” Madena headed inside.

“If I may ... I would like to see what you talk about in person. As a priest of Mara, this discussion about the influence of the gods in our world ... disturbs me. May I come with you?” Erandur asked.

“It’s doubtful you’ll come with me, but you may accompany us.” Erandur looked puzzled while my ladies laughed at my joke. “Never mind, a lot of my philandering ways are behind me now. Follow me, let’s go talk to Brina.” Jordris pulled Erandur aside to explain my sense of humor while Serana, Lydia, and I went inside. Madena headed in as well.

“Welcome back to Dawnstar, Your Majesty. From the sounds that managed to reach us, I would guess since you returned alive that you were successful in your endeavor. I was able to get a town banner for your shield-maiden to carry, and pen a quick missive explaining our support for you to anyone you may meet. I don’t expect ... well, Captain Jod here knows most of the Stormcloak troops that are stationed in this area. Other than a few hotheads, I don’t think there will be much trouble when the Imperials move in.”