****
S’maash snapped his eyes open. Brelyna’s face was close to his.
“What,” he asked.
“Easy. We found you collapsed outside the Augar of Dunlain’s door.”
“Yes,” Tolfdir added. “I figured it was best to look for you in the case that…well, this happened.”
S’maash was in bed in his room. Tolfdir and Brelyna were both looking after him.
“How long have I been out?” he looked around, woozily.
“Just a few hours,” Tolfdir replied.
“Did you see it? The Augar, I mean,” Brelyna asked.
S’maash made eye contact with both of them. “I did, and Azura, and Farengar, too.” The others exchanged a look of worry. “In a dream, that is,” S’maash clarified.
“Ah,” Tolfdir said.
“You should rest for a bit,” Brelyna advised.
“No, I’ve had enough rest. I need to use the Oblivion Forge to make the Heart of Lorkhan,” S’maash said.
Again, the others exchanged a look. He tried to stand out of bed, but Brelyna pulled her chair closer, making it difficult.
“I’m not sure that’s best for you right now,” she said.
S’maash sighed in aggravation as he rubbed his face. “Listen to me, just because you helped me up here while I was unconscious doesn’t mean I do not know what I’m saying. I gathered all the answers I needed. Now it’s time to act,” S’maash checked his aggression.
“Very well. Tell me one thing first, what is this Oblivion Forge of which you speak,” Tolfdir asked.
“The Augar said it’s mistakenly referred to as the Atronach Forge. I can forge the Heart of Lorkhan using it,” S’maash answered.
It was obvious they were feeling him out to see if he was of sound mind. He eyed them, not with disdain, simply annoyed.
“I see,” Tolfdir said, nodding to Brelyna.
“What will you do with the Heart of Lorkhan,” Brelyna asked.
S’maash shook his head. He had not thought that far ahead.
“I don’t know. Farengar’s journal didn’t say what was to happen next,” S’maash looked to Tolfdir as he spoke. “You gave me Keening. Where is Sunder?”
Tolfdir nodded slowly as he pondered. Brelyna looked him over as he did so.
“I do not know. Perhaps, you should’ve asked the Augar of Dunlain,” Tolfdir commented.
S’maash cocked his head a bit and narrowed his eyes as he looked at Tolfdir. A hint of sarcasm? He didn’t understand why the old nord held back veiled animosity. Perhaps, I’m imagining.
“I asked everything I could. There were no more questions left. I feel as though I might have died had I stayed a second longer,” S’maash admitted.
“Died? No. Being around the Augar of Dunlain cannot kill you, but it can drive you mad. I simply wonder why you did not have the forethought of asking the Augar about Sunder’s location,” Tolfdir clarified.
“I suppose the entirety of this ordeal eluded me while in the Augar’s presence,” S’maash answered.
“I still don’t understand what all is being accomplished, here,” Brelyna complained.
Tolfdir looked at her then S’maash. He raised a white, bushy, eyebrow, questioningly.
“It is difficult to answer,” S’maash admitted. “I have before me the ability to discover everything any mage has ever wanted to know. With the Heart of Lorkhan, Keening, and Sunder, we can truly learn what became of the dwemer.”
“But I thought you only wished to expand your knowledge of enchanting,” Brelyna stated.
“What better way than to contact those who crafted such items as Keening, a blade with three enchantments, or Volendrung. Both these creations are so potent they cannot be disenchanted,” S’maash argued.
Tolfdir had folded his arms across his chest and watched S’maash as he spoke. “But you have failed to wonder if it was the dwemer who crafted them.”
The elf blinked. It was true. There was no certainty that the dwemer did not find them already crafted and simply learned their use.
“Very well, but they should know,” he rebutted.
“They may not tell you, nor might you be able to understand if they did, and all this is under the premise that you find them,” Tolfdir added, jabbing his point further.
“Why are you acting like this?” S’maash snapped.
Tolfdir sighed. “I am not acting like anything, S’maash. You have just gone through several, great ordeals, the likes of which many men could never even consider. I just pray you slow down, lest you burn away like parchment over a fire pit.”
S’maash gauged the old mage. He returned a grandfatherly gaze. Tolfdir was not angry, nor was he belittling, he was simply looking out for a student. In the grand scope of recent events, S’maash had believed himself a master of the arcane arts. In truth, he was only scratching the surface.
He resigned himself to resting in bed for a moment. Tolfdir excused himself to attend to College matters. Brelyna stayed for a while. Eventually, Zolara entered the room.
“Oh there you are,” he said to Brelyna.
“What is it,” she asked.
“I was….Is he alright,” Zolara asked.
“I’m fine, argonian. How were the samples you recovered,” S’maash asked.
“Excellent, and that brings me back to why I’m here. Brelyna, the results on our experiment will be ready soon.”
“Very well. S’maash, make sure you come to us before you choose to forge the Heart of Lorkhan,” Brelyna said.
“Of course,” S’maash replied.
Once the others left him, he stayed in bed with hands folded behind his head. Staring at the stones in the ceiling was somewhat relaxing, especially after all the oddities he had seen too recently. I would very much like to stay in Azura’s good graces. Furthermore, Tolfdir brought to light some excellent points, but what am I really doing, here? What was my original goal, and is it not wise to alter one’s path if opportunity for growth is provided?
Perhaps…but I would not like to make the change into whatever the Augar of Dunlain and the Emissary of Fate have become. I need to learn more about what happened on Red Mountain as I do not wish to disappear from this reality either. Maybe I should shy away. I can still learn much by experimentation with the daedric heart gem after all. I could also travel back and forth to Cyrodiil and continue studying ayleid ruins….
S’maash rolled onto his side. His arcane enchanter was in view. Suddenly, he remembered wanting to know how enchantments truly worked. Passing up the prospect of asking the dwemer was not a possibility. Keep in mind, they might not know. Even worse, this entire thing may not play out as I’d like…I suppose anything can happen.
With closed eyes, S’maash reveled in thought. All possible outcomes were present, all outcomes he contrived. But what of possibilities I have failed to consider? He stood out of bed, took food and drink then left for the Arcaeneum.
Opening the door out to the courtyard, S’maash bumped into Faralda. “Oh, I was just coming for you,” she said.
“Yes?”
“A courier came by to deliver this message to you.” She handed him a note. He looked at her, mouth slightly agape. “What is it?”
“Aicantar finished translation on the old, dwemer books I found,” S’maash replied.
“What do they say,” she asked.
“He didn’t say. I’m supposed to meet with him for discussion.”
Faralda shrugged and left him alone. S’maash believed it was more than excellent timing, so he hurried to the outskirts of town and hired a ride to Markarth. Night had already settled over Winterhold.
The cart master made stops along the way to resupply. First, they rested in Whiterun then in Morthal. Shortly after, they arrived in Markarth.
It had been the better part of two days since leaving Winterhold. Fortunately, the weather had been mild, thus allowing for quick travel. Upon reaching the stone city, S’maash ran to Understone Keep. Aicantar
was sitting before his lab, studying a piece of dwemer, scrap metal.
“Aicantar. I received your letter. What have you found?”
“Yes, of course. I must tell you this is a most intriguing discovery. Would that my uncle was still with us, rest his soul. The tomes appear to be logs, notes, and observations made by Kagrenac’s assistant. So far as we knew, Kagrenac worked alone, but it is plausible he had an assistant. Most masters of any trade,” Aicantar was babbling.
“Please, the discovery,” S’maash interrupted.
“Apologies, I get carried away sometimes. Yes, Kagrenac was the…sound smith, if you will. A great deal of dwemer technology deals in simple reverberations. As you no doubt are aware, what with being a native of Morrowind. Stories indicate the Heart of Lorkhan landed where Red Mountain resides,” Aicantar started.
S’maash nodded as he took a seat. It was evident this was going to be a long explanation.
“Well, the appearance of the Nerevarine, the reincarnation of General Nerevar, who battled General Dumac before Anumidium, resurfaced to battle Dagoth Ur, formerly Lord Dagoth, who was friend to the Tribunal. In order to defeat Dagoth Ur, the Nerevarine sought the Tribunal’s relics, or more aptly, the dwemer relics; Keening, Sunder, and Wraith Guard.
“As it turned out, the tools, Keening and Sunder, were not mere weapons. They were tools of sounds, tonal weapons. The inherent, magickal resonations allowed the Nerevarine to destroy the Heart of Lorkhan. How the fragments found their way into Skyrim is unknown, but logical seeing as the dwemer had ancient cities here, and by extension many dunmer found their way here as well,” Aicantar continued.
S’maash grew more and more fascinated with the tale.
“Wraith Guard, a gauntlet of sorts, was necessary to wield the tonal weapons, lest they drain the life of the handler,” Aicantar said.
S’maash interrupted, “But I have Keening. It deals no damage to me.”
Aicantar was taken aback. He paced before taking a seat on a dwemer bench next to S’maash.
“Then, it has grown weak over the years, or it only drains life when utilized. At any rate, the use of the tonal weapons, and Lorkhan’s Heart, was required for the completion of Anumidium, the dwemer God. It was to be a replacement for Lorkhan.
“According to the logs you recovered, the assistant, whose name does not appear in the text, wrote that Kagrenac had several theories. Because Gods exist on many planes, there was no way to build one on our plane of existence. You may recall the creation of Numidium before the Warp in the West. While it was similar to Anumidium, the Empire lacked the Heart of Lorkhan, using instead the Mantella, a sort of soul gem,” Aicantar clarified.
“Like the daedric heart gem,” S’maash whispered.
“Come again,” Aicantar asked. S’maash obliged by giving an explanation, thus bringing Aicantar up to speed. “Fascinating. Yes, this brings me to another point; Numidium could never have been a God as the Mantella did not contain an immortal soul. Your fragments, however, do. You have been given all the knowledge required to reforge the immortal Heart of Lorkhan.
“The problem you face, depending on your course of action, is the same as Kagrenac’s. To forge a God, he must be forged on all planes of existence. In his studies, Kagrenac found ways to traverse into other planes. Here, we have discordance in timelines.
“Traveling between planes is not always a matter of seconds, minutes, or hours. There is a possibility, as with the reemergence of Alduin, that the dwemer, to themselves mind you, have only just crossed into another of plane of existence to forge Anumidium there as well,” Aicantar said.
“Then our destruction of the Heart of Lorkhan here would have had an impact on their success,” S’maash commented.
Aicantar smiled. “Yes. You follow along quite well. So, according to Kagrenac’s assistant, the tonal weapons were fashioned, not to create Anumidium, nor to destroy the Heart of Lorkhan, but to travel through planes in order to accomplish the forging of Anumidium. Unfortunately, the dwemer left during a tumultuous time. Shortly after, Dagoth Ur found a way to draw power from the Heart of Lorkhan. Because it contained the immortal soul of Lorkhan, he found methods to draw upon immortality.
“After his defeat at the hands of the Nerevarine, there was no way to continue for us, the dunmer, or even the dwemer, the creation of a new God…until now,” Aicantar stopped speaking as he observed S’maash.
“But I have no intentions of creating a God,” he replied.
“Irrelevant. What you have before you is an opportunity.”
“To what end?”
“Any. You could do as Dagoth Ur and draw upon the power of immortality. You could create a God. You could do as the Tribunal and increase your powers tremendously and become a living God as Vivec, Almalexia, and Sotha Sil, or…. Or you may restore the Heart of Lorkhan for the intended use Kagrenac seems to have had in mind,” Aicantar said.
“To travel between planes of existence,” S’maash asked. Aicantar nodded slowly. “Can we not already traverse the planes of Oblivion?”
“Certainly, but these are lesser planes of capricious demons. The whole of Oblivion, that is to say, all the planes intertwined are but one plane, the plane of Oblivion. Mankar Camoran believed Tamriel was a portion of that plane, and he might have been correct, but what you have before you is the opportunity to open doors to all planes, the planes of the Gods themselves,” Aicantar explained.
Silence prevailed throughout the dwemer stonework beneath Markarth. The two mer sat looking at each other without so much as uttering a sound. S’maash was first to stir.
“What do you think?”
Aicantar exhaled with a subtle shrug. “Ultimately, the choice is yours. No one can force you to restore the Heart of Lorkhan, and I do not know the locations of Sunder nor Wraith Guard. Nor do I know if they still function as they should after all these long years. Nor do I know how to use them….
“For all my knowledge, there is still much to learn. So far as I understand, if you restore the Heart of Lorkhan, you will have appeased Hermaeus Mora. Should any force at our fingertips know the answers to my questions, it will be him.”
Minutes passed by during which neither mer spoke. The gravity of the scenario playing out before their eyes brought upon them an unbearable weight. S’maash rapped his fingers upon the alchemy table.
“My final peace…should you choose to continue on this path, and you do bring it to its end, you will bestow upon the whole of Tamriel a chance of meeting the Gods, a chance to traverse planes beyond our current comprehension. You will, however, also be inviting those outside forces upon our plane. As the ancient nords did with their reading of the Elder Scroll at the Throat of the World, you, you might be the cause of terrible disasters, or perhaps…you have already created such a disaster, which has affected the past,” Aicantar finished and left.
S’maash remained sitting upon the bench for moments. A ride back to Winterhold should provide me with plenty of time to think all this through. Finally, with a deep inhalation, he stood. Somehow, he felt as though his soul had been drained from the exchange. He dragged his feet out of Understone Keep. The morning sun was blinding. He shielded his eyes with his hand while he stood before steps leading down into Markarth.
“Excuse me. I think this is for you,” a young imperial spoke.
The young man wore the clothes of a courier, red and grays with a fine hat on his head. He handed S’maash a piece of parchment. He looked it over.
Blasted court wizard, you’re supposed to be in Whiterun when I need you. We have an issue here, and I need to speak with you. Get to Whiterun. I don’t care what you’re doing- Thorald, Jarl of Whiterun.
S’maash heaved a sigh, nodded to the courier, tipped him with one Septim, and hired a cart to Whiterun.