It didn’t take them long to return to Falkreath. Dardeh walked straight to the guest room to find Marcus Jannus. He’d changed out of his fine clothing into a set of iron armor that would serve him well for the short trek to Helgen Keep.
“We’re back, Marcus,” he said. “’Val’ took a little bit of convincing but he’s agreed to talk to you.”
Marcus smiled. “Excellent! Well done, my friend. I’m ready to go but there’s one more thing.”
“Yes?”
“I’m getting too old for fighting. At least by myself, that is. I was hoping that it wouldn’t be too much of a burden for you to escort me to the Keep? There’s another 250 gold in it for you if you will.”
“Well you really don’t need to pay me, but…” Dardeh turned to find Roggi. “Ok with you?”
“Of course,” Roggi said with a smile. “I’m happy to help however I can. You know that.”
“Alright then,” Dardeh said, returning his attention to Marcus. “Let’s be on our way.”
“I’m right behind you.” Marcus chuckled. “But don’t go too fast. I’m not really cut out for this sort of thing anymore.”
“Oh don’t worry,” Dardeh told him. “Between my build and this armor I’m not very fast, either.”
They travelled quietly, and made good time. Once they reached Pinewatch Dardeh turned off the road, knowing that he would need to enter Helgen via the northern gate. As they passed the small pond next to the cabin a mudcrab rose up from its banks and, before Dardeh was able to get out of its way, nipped at him.
Without thinking he turned and Shouted at it.
“YOL – TOOR SHUL!”
He gasped, then, because Marcus had run up beside the crab and taken a swing at the beast with his sword. The fireball – which killed the crab instantly, cooking it inside its shell – came perilously close to Marcus. The man backpedaled and missed all but the outermost edges of heat. Dardeh snapped at him.
“You asked us to do the fighting for you. Now stay back and let us do that! I could have killed you with that Shout by mistake.”
“Easy, Dar,” Roggi said, reaching out to touch him on the arm. He turned to Marcus and smiled. “It’s true, though. I’ve seen him do it. We didn’t go through all this to watch you get roasted alive.”
“I’m… sorry,” Marcus said, shaking his head. “I guess it’s still habit after all this time. Strike first and worry about the consequences later.” He nodded toward the mudcrab and grinned. “You really are Dragonborn. That thing smells good enough to eat.”
Dardeh wanted to be annoyed, still, but found himself chuckling instead. “I know many Shouts but that’s the one that just kind of happens most often. I’m sorry I didn’t warn you.” He looked around them, out toward Lake Ilinalta, and smiled. “We’re not far, now, and I can’t imagine we’re going to run into much else to worry about. Let’s go.”
He’d spoken too soon. Just as they dropped over the ridge line toward the lake two giant frostbite spiders hurtled out of the undergrowth to attack. Roggi rushed past him and attacked one of them, and Dardeh took the other.
“Good thing you were with me,” Marcus said. “I know they aren’t the toughest creatures out here but I couldn’t have taken on two of them by myself. Not at my age.”
“Heh,” Roggi chuckled. “You keep saying that but I’ve just recently watched other men your age in real battles against troops. Don’t sell yourself short.”
“No kidding,” Dardeh agreed. “And if I hadn’t been wearing this tough armor Balgruuf would have killed me, and I’m a whole lot younger than he is.”
Marcus smiled. “Well yes, but…”
“No ‘buts,’ Marcus,” Roggi said. “I can feel what you’re going to say. You don’t train every day any more. Neither did Balgruuf, and I watched him put a really deep dent in Dardeh’s armor. You’d be fine. You may be a little rusty but, eh.” He shrugged. “Rust falls away pretty quickly.”
Dardeh grinned at Roggi, who was his senior by a decade and one of the strongest men he knew. He’d said often enough that he’d gotten soft as a miner, but that never had seemed to be the case as far as Dardeh could tell.
They’d almost reached the crossroads south to Helgen when a small campfire caught Dardeh’s attention. There was a group of small tents arranged around it, with several people working in the area. He walked up the slope toward them and almost immediately wished that he hadn’t.
“You picked a bad time to get lost, friend,” a woman with a bow snarled at him.
“I’m not lost, lady,” he growled.
A moment later she was enveloped in fire.
Dardeh ground his teeth. I didn’t mean to do that. Why does that happen? Even worse, Marcus Jannus rushed past him with his sword raised and took an enormous swing at the woman. Before Dardeh could check to see whether she was dead, an Imperial with a slender longsword stepped out from behind one of the tents at the back and attacked.
“Want a nice piece of razor-sharp steel? Huh?”
Dardeh had been moving, and had turned just as the man struck; the blade slid down the back of his ebony armor instead of doing any real damage. He turned to engage the man directly but found himself in the path of a gout of flame. Startled, he swung back the other way to find that Marcus Jannus had retreated after his strike on the archer woman, and was now engaged in broiling a Nord wearing a horned helmet. Dardeh jumped out of the way while simultaneously trying to sort out his surprise at Marcus’ previously unrevealed magical talents.
Why exactly did he think he needed both of us?
Roggi barreled up the slope behind them and finished off the Nord with a couple of quick and efficient swipes of his greatsword. Marcus had chased the female archer upslope into the trees and was casting flames at her; Roggi ran to them and finished her off.
Dardeh trudged up the hill to where they stood catching their breath, and tilted his head at Marcus.
“I thought you were too old to fight?”
Marcus had the good grace to look embarrassed. “Well, I guess it came back quicker than I expected.”
Roggi chuckled. “I told you.”
“Well at least there’s three fewer bandits in the world. Let’s get going. We’re not that far from Helgen.”
Not long thereafter they trotted across the yard of the keep. Balfring was standing guard outside the door, and nodded to Dardeh as he pushed it open and held it for Roggi and Marcus. Dardeh was barely inside when Marcus ran past him to greet the dark-haired Imperial waiting inside.
“Valerius Tiberius Artoria, you old dog!” he shouted gleefully. “Come here, let us have a look at you!”
Dardeh couldn’t help but smile. It was clear that Marcus was utterly delighted to see his old friend, and couldn’t keep the joy out of his voice. When Valerius spoke, though, it was like a bucket of cold water being dashed onto a flame.
“Marcus, why have you come here?” He wasn’t smiling, he didn’t look welcoming, and Dardeh found his hand moving toward his sword. He didn’t believe that Valerius would actually attack. At least he hoped not; but everything about the sudden shift of mood in the room had him on edge.
Marcus didn’t miss a beat, though his huge smile faded immediately. He nodded.
“Valerius, I’m sure this is quite a shock to you, and terribly unexpected.” He frowned. “I came here to check on my family. I know it’s been a long while since the dragon attack and yet I was still holding out some slim hope… But it appears none of them survived. Then I realized you were here and decided it was in both our interests for two old friends to meet again.”
“Marcus, I’m very sorry,” Valerius said, nodding. Then his mouth drew up into a tiny smile. “But whatever the circumstances, it does my eyes good to see you again after all these years.”
“Yes,” Marcus said. “Same here, old friend. Same here.”
They were both quiet for a moment. Then Marcus’ eyes began to twinkle.
“So!” he said. “The Keepers of Hattu, here in Skyrim. Who would have ever dreamed of such a time!” He grinned.
“Alright, Jannus, what is it you really want?” Valerius asked, in a tone that said he had faced Marcus’ sly maneuvering many times before. “Don’t forget, I know you. So out with it!”
“Yes, you do know me, old friend, better than most. Very well. I aim to rebuild this town, and make her my home.”
What?
Dardeh glanced at Roggi. He’d been keeping his own counsel, standing next to the wall; but at Marcus’ startling proclamation his head snapped up. They stared at each other for a moment.
Look at him. He knows what I’m thinking. We could help. He likes that kind of work and I… well I need something besides war. We could help them remake Helgen and maybe, just maybe that would make me feel a tiny bit better about all the lives that were lost because of me.
“Rebuild?” Valerius snorted. “Jannus, I have no intention of helping you or anyone else rebuild the town. I’m here on… other business.”
Marcus nodded. “Yes, yes, I know, Valerius, but if what I propose is true, perhaps we can be mutually beneficial to one another. All I’m asking is that you hear me out. After that, if we’re not in agreement we can part ways and you’ll likely never see me again.”
Valerius looked at Dardeh, as if hoping for some sort of guidance.
“Don’t ask me. I’m as surprised by this idea as you are. But I’m also intrigued. I think you should hear him out. And if the truth be known your ‘other business’ holds some fair amount of appeal to me as well.”
“But Valerius,” Marcus continued, “there’s plenty of time to get to all of that later. Let’s just catch up on old times.” He so genuinely wanted this – just the opportunity to spend some time with an old comrade – that Valerius’ expression softened.
“Well, you’re in luck, Jannus. Those bandits left some fresh wine downstairs. And I need a drink.”
“Yes. I could use a drink too, old friend. Let me say goodbye to our new friends here, and I’ll join you.”
Marcus turned to Dardeh and smiled.
“I can’t thank you enough for your help. As agreed, here is your compensation.” He handed Dardeh a fat coin purse. Dardeh thought about handing it back, for a moment; but Roggi caught his eye from across the room and shook his head no. Dardeh smiled, and nodded, and slipped the purse into a pocket.
“So why did you never mention rebuilding Helgen until just now?”
“I apologize for that,” Marcus said, a somewhat sheepish look on his face. “I certainly wasn’t intentionally keeping anything from you. I just wanted a chance to meet with Valerius before I brought it up. But yes. I want to make Helgen my home.” He looked around and waved toward the door. “But she certainly has seen better days, that’s for sure.”
To his complete surprise, Dardeh’s mind suddenly was back inside the tower, cringing in fear as Alduin’s head came crashing through the stone and the ear-splitting wail of the great dragon’s fire breath wrought havoc on his hearing. He saw once again the thatched roofs collapsing inward, engulfed in just a few moments; the men and women dropping to the ground, charred and screaming. He gritted his teeth against the panic that welled up from inside him. Calm down. It was a long time ago. Alduin is dead. You killed him.
“That’s an understatement.”
“You know, I grew up just across the border in Cyrodiil, and Helgen was always a place my family visited when I was a boy. I have many fond memories of those days. And now, with my brother and his family gone… Let’s just say that he’d be happy that I settled here. Now, from what I could tell as we came in it’ll be a lot of work cleaning everything up, but nothing impossible. Then we can take a look at what’s left of these buildings and start rebuilding from there. I’m sure there’ll be plenty of work for you, if you’re interested.”
Roggi spoke up from behind Dardeh. “We’ve both been miners, most of our lives. We both can swing a pickaxe with the best of them.”
Dardeh turned to smile at him. You knew what I wanted from the moment he mentioned it, didn’t you?
“Why don’t you take a day and think about it?” Marcus said. “That will give Valerius and I time to catch up and come up with a plan. Can you return to see us in a day or so?”
“Sure. You bet,” Dardeh said.
“Thank you once again, friend. I’ll see you both then.”
Valerius headed toward the door that led down into the keep proper, smiling at his old friend.
“Now then, Marcus,” he said, “let’s go get that wine! You’re in one piece, so I trust your trip went smoothly…”
Dardeh grinned as the voices dimmed, the two men walking down the stairs laughing at each other. He turned to grin at Roggi.
“Smoothly, indeed. Who knew that he was a fire mage, under that iron armor?”
“I had a feeling there was more to him than we saw on the surface,” Roggi chuckled. “So many of those old soldiers from the Great War have skills that they haven’t used in ages, that only need a little prompting to bring to the surface.”
They left the Keep and stood in the courtyard for a moment. Dardeh looked around at the almost overwhelming amount of rubble and destruction in Helgen and shook his head.
“You know they’re going to need our help, right? I mean, it already smells better in the keep; someone cleared out the corpses. But still, look at this place. It’s going to need a lot of muscle just to clear the debris.”
“Yeah,” Roggi said. “That’s why I told him we’d both been miners. By Ysmir, Dar, it’ll feel good to put my back into something besides cleaving people up, you know?”
“Yeah, I do. In the meantime we have some time to kill before they’ve hammered out all the details, and…”
Roggi gave him a sideways grin, one eyebrow raised. “What is it? You have something on your mind?”
“Yes. You probably won’t like it.”
Roggi sighed. “Ok. I was hoping we could just go home and relax for awhile, but that’s not going to happen, I guess. Just tell me.”
Dardeh grinned. Roggi’s such a good guy. “Well, we do need to go home first, and we’ll rest till tomorrow. Let’s head out while I explain.”
They started back down the road toward Falkreath. It was a long walk all the way back to Mammoth Manor, but the tale might make the time go by more quickly.
“Way back, Roggi – way, way back, when I was trying to find the Elder Scroll I needed to read up at the Throat of the World, just before Oengul told me about you – I had to get the help of a very strange mage named Septimus Signus. He was once at the College of Winterhold but went to search for an old Dwemer artifact and never returned. He was the one who told me how to get through Blackreach to the Tower of Mzark to find the Scroll, in exchange for transcribing a lexicon there. It was supposed to act as a key to this huge Dwemer sphere in the cave where he’s been living, up north in the ice fields. As far as I was able to tell – and you have to understand, saying that the man speaks in riddles would be putting it kindly – he thinks the Heart of Lorkhan is in this sphere.”
“Lorkhan? The old god? Ok…”
“Exactly. It’s a little crazy, but he was helping me out. Tit for tat, you know? How did he put it? ‘One block lifts another.’ I had promised him his lexicon in exchange for the information, and I took it back to him as agreed. But there was a problem – he couldn’t read it. What he could see, or so he told me, was that it needed Dwemer blood to activate it as a key.”
Roggi snorted. “Of course. The blood is always the key. But getting Dwemer blood is impossible.”
“Yeah. But he thought that a mixture of all the existing mer races might work as a facsimile. The closest thing we can get. He gave me this extractor thing, and as I came across … specimens … I grabbed the blood. It wasn’t very hard. There were people trying to kill me from every sort of group you can imagine.”
“So you have all of it?”
“I do, and the extractor has been just sitting in the safe at home forever. You know, kind of like the tool kit you kept in the chest in Kynesgrove.”
Roggi grimaced. “Don’t remind me.”
“Sorry. It’s just… similar. And I feel guilty that I still have it after all this time. How about we pick it up and run it up to Septimus? That’ll leave my plate completely clean and I’ll never have to think about it ever again. And we’ll be able to go back to Helgen and focus on that afterward.”
Roggi sighed. “That’s a long trek. But I know better than to argue with you, Dragonborn.”
Dardeh grabbed Roggi and kissed him. “You’re a good man, Roggi Knot-Beard.”
“Yeah, yeah. So you all keep telling me. I think you’re all nuts.”
__
Dardeh wasn’t even sure that Septimus Signus would remember him after so long a time. They made their way into his cave and carefully down the long ramp to where the old man was pacing back and forth, muttering to himself.
“Septimus?”
The mage turned and peered at Dardeh. “When the top level was built, no more could be placed. It was, and is, the maximal apex.”
Dardeh heard Roggi snort, but didn’t address him. Instead, he pulled out the extractor and showed it to the old man.
It had occurred to him while riding in the wagon from Whiterun to Winterhold that he’d had that extractor for a very long time now; and blood, being what it was, tended to congeal. He’d broken out into a cold sweat worrying about it. He didn’t know what kind of magicks Septimus knew, but Urag gro-Shub at the mage’s college had given him the impression that the man was powerful indeed.
If the blood in the extractor isn’t usable, we may be in for a very bad time.
“I’ve brought all the blood samples you asked for. Sorry it’s been so long.” I was just busy saving the world and stuff.
Septimus snatched the extractor out of his hand and shook it vigorously. “I can almost hear them! I feel their life energy. Come, I will make the mixture.”
He went to his worktable and fiddled about with something – perhaps adding ingredients, Dardeh couldn’t tell. He did, however, recognize the lexicon’s runed cube on one of Septimus’ shelves as the old man reached for it.
Septimus manipulated both the lexicon and the blood extractor. The several blue-tinted discs on the sphere’s surface lit up, much in the same way the contraption holding the Elder Scroll had responded to lighting up its blue discs. Suddenly, with a metallic screech and a rumble, the front surface of the sphere pushed inward and downward; and what had been a solid door of Dwemer metal opened onto a descending staircase.
Dardeh trotted down the stairs and stopped in confusion. There at the bottom of the stairs, at the center of the sphere, was a simple lectern with a thick, colorfully-bound book atop it.
Septimus ran down the steps and gave a cry of exasperation.
“What is this? It’s just a book!”
He stepped closer, and his eyes opened wide. “I can see! The world beyond burns in my mind! It’s … marvelous!”
And then the most horrid thing happened. Septimus slowly rose from the floor of the sphere, as if being lifted by invisible hands. Dardeh had seen mages rise thus when casting the most complex and powerful of their spells, but Septimus was doing nothing other than looking from side to side. Then he dropped.
In the spot where he had been standing appeared a pile of purplish, shimmering dust. It looked the same as what had been left behind when Dardeh had Shouted the guards to death in Dragonsreach’s main hall.
“NO!”
Roggi had been lingering up near the exit to Septimus’ hideout and came rushing down the ramp when he heard Dardeh’s cry.
“What’s wrong… oh!” He stopped just short of stepping in Septimus’ ashes. “What happened to him?”
Dardeh’s hand shook as he reached out to take the thick tome from the lectern. “I don’t know, Roggi. This book, though; I hope it was worth it. He said that whatever he could see was marvelous. I hope it was.” He shuddered. “Let’s get out of here. I feel sick.”
Roggi slipped an arm around his shoulders. “Are you going to be ok?”
Dardeh leaned against Roggi’s warmth for a moment and then nodded. “Yeah. I just want to get out into the sunlight. Let’s go.”
They started up the stairs of the sphere toward its door, Dardeh taking the lead. He hadn’t gotten more than halfway up it, though, before he had to stop. A familiar and despised mass of greenish-black tentacles covered with eyes appeared, blocking the passage before him.
“What in Oblivion?” Roggi’s voice echoed the shock Dardeh remembered from his first encounter with Hermaeus Mora.
“Come, my champion,” the eerie, otherworldly voice oozed.
“What do you want from me now?” Dardeh felt the same panic, the same icy desolation rising in him that he had felt after watching the Daedric Prince pull the life force from Storn, leader of the Skaal people on Solstheim.
“Now you have my Oghma Infinium. It contains the knowledge of the ages, as revealed to Xarxes, my loyal servant. For hundreds of years it’s been shut away from the world. Septimus was a useful tool for unleashing it. Now it is in your hands. Let us work wonders together.”
The being began to fade out of existence. But Dardeh had more to say to this creature. He opened his mouth and nearly screamed.
“I am not your champion, you monster!”
The green mass became opaque once more, and one of its eyes, the central one – the eye Dardeh remembered seeing when its owner spoke to Storn and then again to Miraak – fixed on him. Hermaeus Mora spoke again, and it was clear this time that he was not in any way pleased to have been called back or called out.
“Who do you think brought Septimus here? Who do you think protected you on your journey to open the box and loose my knowledge on this world?”
“I protected myself, with my swords and my Voice. I did what I did of my own free will, in the same way that I fought Miraak in order to protect the people of Solstheim.”
There was a horrid, gurgling noise that made Dardeh’s skin crawl. He realized that Hermaeus Mora was laughing at him. Laughed at by a Daedric Prince. I could have done without that.
“Your free will is an illusion. Whether you acknowledge me or not is your own business. But I will be in your mind.”
And the aspect of the Daedric Prince faded away.
Dardeh sank to his knees, shaking. He shut his eyes and shook his head, feeling sick, and found himself moaning. A warm hand rested on his back.
“Dar. Are you alright? What was that thing?”
“Hermaeus Mora,” Dardeh said, barely able to get the words out. An enormous shudder that began deep in his core wrung its way out through his body. “That’s who, or what, I met on Solstheim, Roggi. That’s why you never heard from me. He was behind Miraak. He maneuvered me into…” his voice caught in a sob as he remembered seeing the entire Skaal village surrounding Storn’s body, mourning his loss. He shook his head. “He owns me, Roggi.”
“Horker shit,” Roggi spat. Dardeh felt Roggi’s powerful hands slip under his arms and lift him to his feet, then turn him around. “Open your eyes and look at me, Dardeh.”
Dardeh did so, slowly, remembering how desolate he had felt arriving back in Windhelm on his return from Solstheim. Roggi was frowning, staring at him, but behind the frown was concern, trust, and love that shone through, warming him.
“Whatever that thing was, Dar, it no more owns you than Paarthurnax does. It’s powerful, sure. Daedric princes are. But you’re the Dragonborn, Dardeh. You have power of your own. You’re one of a kind.”
Dardeh found himself speaking, but it seemed as though his voice came from far away somewhere.
“But I wasn’t, not until Hermaeus Mora killed Miraak, because Miraak was Dragonborn too. I didn’t kill him, Roggi. I tried. Oh did I ever try. The two of us hammered at each other with everything we had. It would have been a terrifying thing to see, I’m sure. But in the end it was Herma Mora who did Miraak in, and when he did it he said it was because he had found a new Dragonborn. Me, Roggi.”
Roggi shook his head. Dardeh stared into his husband’s blue eyes and saw unshakeable trust; and he felt the panic that had once more risen up into his throat begin to subside.
“Dar. It doesn’t matter. You did what you had to do. And then you came back and took care of Alduin and helped bring the Civil War to an end, and none of that has anything to do with a wriggling mass of green tentacles.” He shuddered, visibly. “By the gods that thing is disgusting.”
“Yes, it is. Thanks, Roggi. I’m not sure what’s wrong with me just now. It’s like all the terrible things that happened have come back to haunt me again.”
Roggi gave him a quick hug. “Sometimes that happens to me, too. I’m just really good at hiding it. You’ll be ok. So tell me something. What’s in that book?”
“Oh.” Dardeh had forgotten that he was holding the heavy tome. He looked down at it and shrugged. “Hmm. Let’s see.” He flipped open the cover and saw odd symbols in intricate patterns.
“What’s it say?”
“I don’t know. It reminds me a lot of the Elder Scroll, actually. It… Oh!”
Dardeh felt a searing sensation in his brain. It was much the same as the thing he’d felt when he first read the word FUS on the wall in Bleak Falls Barrow, and it also happened without any warning or opportunity to stop it. It was an opening, a filling – an inscribing, almost, of knowledge directly into his mind. Suddenly he felt that if he were to heal himself from a wound, the spell would be more powerful; if he were to cast any of the few destruction spells he’d learned, it would carve a more lethal path before him.
“Oh by the gods. Talos help me,” he gasped.
“Dar, what’s happening? What is it?”
Finally the sensations died away. As Dardeh looked at it in awe, the book itself dissipated and vanished.
“It’s gone!” Roggi yelped.
“Yes.” Dardeh took a few deep breaths, and then pulled Roggi to him. “Hold me for a minute, Roggi.”
“Of course.” Roggi hugged him tightly and rubbed his back, and slowly the warmth came back into Dardeh’s body and soul. Finally he pulled himself back from the comfort of the embrace and met Roggi’s concerned gaze.
“It… this will sound crazy, but I don’t know how else to describe it. It wrote the information into my mind.”
“It what?”
“Magic, Roggi. I’ve never had more than a bare smidgen of it. Just enough to cast a healing spell once in awhile. And now I know… things. That I didn’t, before. It’s like when I realized I knew how to speak Dovahzul. It felt like someone with a hot knife carving the words into my head. I think I could hurt someone with an ice spike, now. Magic. I…” He shook his head. “I’m a Nord, Roggi. We don’t use magic.”
Roggi looked shocked for a moment. Then he chuckled. “Well some Nords do, Dar, just not all of us. I don’t but that doesn’t mean anything, really. I wouldn’t worry about it if you suddenly have a new tool in your kit.”
“It’s not that, Roggi. It’s what he said, just before he disappeared. ‘I will be in your mind.’ I can’t stand it. I want it out. I…” He put a hand on either side of his head and squeezed for a moment; then he dropped his hands in frustration.
Roggi shook his head. “Dar, it’s just knowledge. It’s power. You don’t have to use it. Just let it be and he’ll have no influence over you.” He took Dardeh’s hand and started up the ramp, pulling Dardeh after him. “Let’s get out of here. We need to get back home and figure out what we’re going to do about Helgen. Yes?”
Dardeh nodded. “Yes. Thanks, Roggi.” He smiled, trying to be reassuring.
But inside he was wailing. Just don’t use it. Right. You’ve just said that to the guy who burns people alive without realizing it.