My consciousness returns partly as I absently note it moving through innumerable images, scenes I have seen, and those I have not changing, mixing, evolving before my very eyes.
The scene shifts once more and I find myself standing atop a veritable sea of corpses, all of them clad in a familiar blue sash splayed over their different armor styles. As I notice the shift so too do the corpses, as all of their eyes snap open, a chilly blue flame replacing their once lively orbs.
They say nothing but I still hear their accusations, of thousands of orphans and widows made, of their souls being fed to the world ender, of a monster without mercy taking them well before their time.
One grabs my leg and I find myself unable to shake the death grip off, all of the power I know I should have missing in its entirety as more and more corpses start throwing themselves over each other in an attempt to grab and bite their enemy.
My ability to move was swiftly removed as I soon found myself drowning in a sea of blood, bone, and teeth, pain that was not pain assailing all of my senses...
My eyes snap open.
I stare at the wooden ceiling of the room the new Jarl assigned to me as my breathing slowly calms down. I remain silent for a long moment, contemplating what had just happened, the things I was just forced to experience...
"Motherfucking piece of n'wah shit!" I curse as I practically jump out of my bed, my robes appearing in that same fluid motion "I swear I am going to murder a bitch today if it is the last damned thing I do!"
"Of fucking course she was already influencing me, took her damn time too." I growl "Well, so much for not being a dick about banishing her I guess."
The sound of a throat being cleared draws me from my burgeoning rant as my eyes snap to a figure seated at a small nearby table, Mephys' bright eyes burrowing into me with amusement as the Daedra spoke "My oh my, Reyvin. Is this how you welcome a dear guest?"
"Shut!" I immediately snap and the puppet's mouth is forced closed.
Naturally, this does not deter her whatsoever as the amusement in her eyes only seems to burn even more brightly at the action.
Pointedly ignoring her fidgeting I sigh and remove the command "Apologies for that, I am evidently more stressed than I thought."
"Oh think nothing of it." She waves me off daintily "Considering how I've seen mortals react to such thing throughout the ages you are doing quite well in fact." She pauses and cups her face as if in thought "Then again you aren't quite all that mortal anymore."
"Right." I drawl out and wipe the slight sheen of sweat off my brow "Was there any point to your visit?"
"Why yes there is indeed." She smiles happily "I just wanted to confirm that Vaermina has noticed your intentions as soon as you entered the city's surroundings and has tried empowering her little cult beneath the temple."
My eyebrow shoots up "And when you say tried..."
"Naturally I stopped the uppity little bitch immediately." She preens momentarily before pouting slightly "Of course, some of her power still got through but not as much as he wanted."
"And what will this cost me?" I sigh.
"Nothing." She shoots with zero hesitation.
"Nothing?" I look at her like she is an idiot. Mephala was the singular person in the world, bar some gods probably, who could still lie to me so my skepticism was through the roof, to say the least.
"I just want you to do what you were going to do already." She smiles happily "I don't even need you to get me that pitiful little staff either."
"You do realize..." I begin slowly "That I could have just dealt with whatever additional fuckery she was going to throw at me and that your desire to not owe me for whatever you may gain from that is rather obvious, do you not?"
Her smile seems to somehow turn even brighter "But tell me Reyvin, after whatever you just went through, do you want to deal with more nightmare fuckery, as you call it?"
I stare at her for a long while, trying to look disapproving but that failed to convince me, much less her. Before long I allow my shoulders to slump as I give her a weak glare "Why do I even bother arguing with you."
"I know right?" She bobs her head "As I always say, things would be much easier if you just decided to trust me." She tilts her head lightly "Though they would be much less fun."
My eye twitches but I know better than to indulge her further "Right" I drawl out "I truly am happy my suffering has been entertaining to you."
The air in the room suddenly turns much colder than before as spiderwebs start forming at the edges of my senses as Mephala's voice shifts from happy to frigid "That little bitch decided to attack my chosen, dear." The tiny edge to her tone informs me of just how much frothing rage she is holding back "Kindly show her the error of her ways, will you?"
''Now that, we can do.''
-----
I met Erandur and the twins at the halfway point to the lighthouse and the abandoned temple attached to its foundation, all three of them looked worse for wear after having slept through Vaermina's increased activity.
The Maran priest's plan was a good one, all things considered, as he recommended we take a rest and not immediately rush into the temple so that we aren't caught inside in the middle of the night when the Daedra's power waxes to its peak.
Sadly neither he nor I were able to predict the fact that one of the Daedra generally considered to be absent and less inclined toward direct action was able to suss us out within mere hours.
If I took a bit more time to consider her MO I'd have probably realized it sooner but merely spending time where someone was sleeping would potentially put you at risk of being noticed, especially in a city where her artifact has been going at it for decades.
I handed out stamina potions to all of them, pushing out most of their physical fatigue but failing to hold back the mental pressure they were under. Brienne was looking especially shaken, likely having seen something that she could not quite get over.
As we walked, Bor spoke up "Erandur, or was it Casimir?"
"Erandur, please." The priest corrects swiftly "I left that other name with the cult."
"Why would you even join them in the first place?" The Nord asks, obviously wanting to be rid of the relative silence of our passing.
The Dunmer looks into the distance briefly, and shakes his head "I was young and foolish. Add to that that they practically raised me, there was no real choice in the matter. It is by mere luck that I have escaped such a life."
"Luck? What do you mean?" Brienne barges into the conversation.
"Yes, sheer dumb luck." The aged priest nods, a wry smile on his face "The artifact guarded within Nightcaller Temple had chosen another target for its ravenous master, Vaermina always hungers for memories you see. A band of Orsimer were thus cursed with vivid nightmares for weeks... It did not take the orcs long to find the source of their troubles and infiltrate the city to attack the temple directly."
He pauses as a group of guards pass us by, all of them offering a quick salute and getting as far away from us as possible. As they disappear behind a nearby corner, Erandur continues his tale "But the priests of the temple were just that, priests. The orcs would have overpowered the defenses with ease and so they chose to... contaminate it with what they considered a sacred miasma, a gas that puts all into a time-frozen sleep at the cost of their sanity."
"Fucking cultists." Bor scoffs disdainfully "Huffing a maddening gas? Sounds like a great idea!"
"To an outsider, it may seem so." Erandur explains patiently "But to those who wish to forget it is a sacred rite, however misguided." He quickly adds that last part when I turn to him with a raised eyebrow.
"Also" Brienne cuts in once more "Nightcaller Temple, really? How did no one realize what was happening?"
This time it is I who interjects "Because, Brienne, it is a ruin and most Nords don't like touching those with an army at their back."
"Back to my question." Bor interrupts before I can tear his entire city a new one "How did you get away?"
"I..." Erandur looks around briefly "I was the one tasked with releasing the miasma, I was far enough to see its effects and they... they terrified me. I escaped as soon as I saw the gas taking effect." He admits shamefully.
"And lacking an echo chamber for your idiotic faith you soon found your way to good sense." I quip, to which he grumbles but does not disagree.
"Yes." He draws the words out non committedly "Put further questions aside, we have arrived."
And there it was, the lighthouse. Well maintained on its upper levels, with outside stairs leading those in charge of keeping it lit and fueled up, with its base left completely unattended, making the temple it once housed look like a pile of rocks with a small door at the entrance.
Erandur pushed open the stone doorway without preamble, leading us into a relatively sizeable prayer chamber, a shrine to Mara sitting at its altar, likely having replaced whatever idol to Vaermina that stood there before the orcish raid.
"Is this it?" Bor asks impatiently.
"No." Erandur answers almost harshly and goes to a large relief in the distant wall, channeling his Magicka through a series of runes and activating the ward which soon turned the stone intangible.
The moment he did so I immediately blasted the entire chamber with a massive wind cloak, too weak to damage anyone but more than strong enough to banish whatever fumes attempted to assail us as the temple was opened for the first time in decades.
Noticing his little fuckup, Erandur gives us all sheepish looks "Apologies for that, I had thought the miasma would dissipate after so long."
"When dealing with Daedra, I have found that relying on the passage of time is rarely a good idea." I inform him and step into the depths, the confused groans of the waking orcs swiftly reaching my ears.
A group of Orcs were looking around with what was obviously illusion induced paranoia, and the moment their eyes landed on us they brought their weapons to bear and charged at us. Their minds were obviously lost to the Quagmire by this point so ending them could be considered a mercy.
The twins and Erandur struggled against their foes but I cut them all down with ridiculous ease, they were stronger than most humans but their current state stopped them from using that strength effectively as, in their panic, they fell into the berserk rage inherent to their people.
We descended deeper into the temple, soon facing against groups of both cultists and orcs working in tandem as their minds were shattered and they were dragged toward us like meat puppets.
Suddenly I stopped mid swing and dodged back as a sword passed just where my neck was but a moment ago, Bor blinked as he realized he was not where he remembered and slowly turned toward me with a look of fear and confusion.
I pointed my hand in his general direction and blasted out a concentrated firebolt, missing his face by an inch and blasting the final orc of this group to pieces.
Brienne held back a gasp and let out a sigh of relief as she realized I wasn't about to murder her brother, and quickly ran up to him "What was that?!" She asked him.
"I..." He trailed off, looking at me fearfully "I... don't know, I saw him as an orc trying to kill you."
"Fucking illusions" I palm my face "Do you at least know how to resist them now that we know about them?"
"I am afraid it will not be that simple." Erandur cuts in "The illusions weaved by the Lady of Nightmares are far more potent than most mortal magics, I fear our wills will be greatly tested."
"I see..." I close my eyes and ponder this briefly, before looking to Bor "You can go back if you want, I'd rather not risk you committing suicide by me if you were too weak to resist this place."
The young Nord grit his teeth and practically hissed at me "I am no coward."
I tilt my head "Prove it then."
Brienne tittered at the obvious provocation, quickly letting Bor in on my 'plan' as he gave me a light glare and started walking deeper into the temple with an annoyed huff.
Soon we stepped out into a circular chamber, the center of which lay open to all the different levels of the underground levels of the lighthouse tower, the most eye catching detail being the many barriers drawn from the powerful staff floating at the bottom of the structure, it itself was encased within a barrier of far greater, visibly Daedric, power.
"There it is... The Skull of Corruption." Erandur says with both fear and awe "The source of Dawnstar's woes, and its nightmares."
"I'd rather say that the source of its woes was Skald but we are not here to debate that." I quip lightly while glaring holes into the nightmare machine "Let's get rid of that filth, I haven't gotten a wink of actual sleep last night and do not plan on repeating the experience."
A pair of enthusiastic 'Aye!-s' comes from the twins.
"Very well, follow me." The priest nods and continues leading the way.
Just as we turn another corner we are met with a bunch of orcs slamming their weapons into a transparent barrier, a massive specimen which I guessed to be the chieftain was growling at the passage with something resembling a more coherent hatred.
The moment Erandur stepped just a bit too loudly the entire group turned to us and the chief snarled "Filthy nightmare mongers!" He did not wait for us to attempt an explanation and launched himself at Brienne, who was closest to him. A blast of ice welcomed him and the male twin's sword soon found its way into his neck.
The rest of the orcs were as mindless as the rest of their kin, letting us cut them down with practiced ease, even as Erandur and Bor were wounded in the fighting, Brienne escaping injury only by virtue of being the 'support'.
We approached the shimmering barrier and a moment later heard Erandur let out a light gasp of what sounded like fear? He quickly turned to us and shook his head "I fear that this barrier is unbreakable to us, it is powered directly from the staff, which in turn draws power from the Quagmire."
"Surely there is an alternative?" Brienne asks hopefully.
Bor huffs "Probably something stupid and reckless."
Erandur's eye twitches as he looks to me "There is indeed a way to get through but it is as the young man just said, a tad... reckless."
I roll my eyes "If you tell me we are going to need to enter a dream realm so we can teleport beyond this passage I am going to geld you, Erandur."
He stills completely, his hands moving lower on instinct. He gulps "Then I will say nothing, my lord."
I snort and walk up to the barrier, testing the thing with my finger and finding it was more repelling me than being a solid block of energy. I closed my eyes and focused on the nightmares, both the ones that preceded my entry to the city and the one which tormented me once I slept within.
A red hot searing rage slowly started to bubble from within me and I summoned Blasphemy, my power covering it in a sheen of flowing grey shadows as the tiny spark of my divinity ignited into being.
With a loud snarl, I swung out at the barrier, my blade passing it effortlessly and sailing straight at the soul gem which connected it to its source of power, shattering it completely and opening the passage for us.
Letting the rage leave me as I breathed out, I summoned my blade back and turned to the rest with a cheerful grin "Sometimes the simple solutions are the best."
Erandur looks at me like I've grown a second head, his eyes frantically moving from me to the now open passage and then back to me. The twins just shrugged and started moving, fully expecting my levels of bullshit at this point.
Soon we stepped out onto the final level, a simple staircase leading up to the pedestal holding the Skull of Corruption.
But of course, the world's dramatics would not let me just banish the damned thing and be done with it, because a duo of cultist had survived with their minds intact and stepped out into the opening the moment we descended.
'Like a pair of complete retards.' Scorch provides his most apt tactical analysis.
"Veren... Thorek..." I hear Erandur croak "You are alive..."
Veren, another Dunmer immediately glares at him "No thanks to you Casimir." He practically spits the name out.
"I..." The priest looks like he is just about to falter but swiftly centers himself, totally having nothing to do with a bit of illusion from yours truly, and firmly states "I have left that name behind long ago. Now I am Erandur, Priest of Mara."
"A coward and a traitor." The apparent leader of the cult curses "How unsurprising."
As Erandur attempts to reflexively explain himself I clear my throat, catching everyone's attention "Am I to believe you are the only remaining cultists within this lighthouse?"
"This is no mere lighthouse, fool!" Veren sneers "It is a holy templ-"
He doesn't get to finish his sentence as his head rolls on the floor, his friend following soon after as he attempts to grab his mace. Not letting the Maran contemplate the death of his old friends I tug his arm and order "Come, let us be done with this."
As I take just another step toward the Skull, the old staff bursts with power, slamming into my mind and outright knocking out the rest of my companions. I grit my teeth and took another step, words of temptation slowly making their way to my ears but going completely ignored as I prepared my blade once again.
Only to suddenly stop as a figure emerged from the floor just below the pedestal upon which the staff floated. A rather familiar figure at that.
A perfect copy of myself stood below the altar, the same robes, the same blade, the same irritating cocky grin on his face.
It was disgusting.
Without a word I launched myself at him, only to be dodged with a simple shadow step. I threw out a firebolt of gold, only to have it flicked to the side by a perfectly cast ward. I summoned shades only to have them countered with their exact same copies.
Well, this was going to be annoying.
The copy of myself snickered at my attempts and threw itself at me, engaging me in an elaborate dance as our battle went from mere combat to a clash of the minds with precognition working at full force on both sides.
It even used a fire breath I was forced to counter, lest it burn the twins and Erandur to a crisp.
The more we fought the less I appreciated what was going on. For all of the perfection of the copy it was only that in the end, its swings held no passion, its expressions were without soul, and worst of all its magic was without the endless spark of ambition that fueled my rise.
It. Was. Infuriating.
A stray thought entered my mind as our clash continued, the Daedra may be able to copy my skills, but was it able to copy my artifacts? The same items forged by literal gods? A wide grin spread on my face as the realization sunk in and I spread my arms welcomingly, allowing the filthy copy to stab its lesser blasphemy through my arm... and not turn it to shreds.
With what was by now a fully manic grin I grabbed the disgusting thing and started to choke it to death, my spark of divinity ensuring its existence was snuffed out before it could do anything. I threw the now lifeless body onto the ground and it dissolved into shadows.
My blood was boiling, the precipice it had stood at ever since I fought Alduin coming ever so closer as the battle went on until finally it burst free, enveloping me wholly in an aura of grey light. Immediately the aura of Vaermina was pushed back by my presence and I wasted no time.
I brandished blasphemy and launched myself at the Skull of Corruption, slamming the blade straight into the gnarled tip of the staff.
It seemed to resist briefly, the ancient artifact's power coiling to protect it from destruction, but my will was greater than that a false deity's toy and I pressed forward with a snarl of rage and defiance.
The staff's power buckled inward, and then shattered, detonating the object into numerous shards of wood and launching the shrapnel all over the place, surprisingly not hitting any of us at all.
The power of the Daedra washed over me, attempting to pass me as it realized it would find no purchase. It lashed out toward Bor but before it could go any further I found myself grabbing it within my hand, somehow grasping the ephemeral energy, and realizing I could not hold it indefinitely I threw it upwards, blasting it into the skies and away from this world forevermore.
-----------------
The house of Dagoth comes to you on this most glorious of days with a magnificent offer!
For a measly payment in stones of at the very least respectable potence, the house shall ensure that your dreams are not bothered by verminous hags and other miscreants of lesser repute (The house takes no responsibility for any perceived raise in nightmares should you refuse this most generous offer)
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