Chapter Thirty-Five
“Blackreach,” Aicantar whispered in astonishment.
“What’s that,” S’maath asked.
“Blackreach is a city below Skyrim; a place the dwemer found when digging below the world. They found a way adjoin their cities. Mzinchaleft, Alftand, Raldbthar, they all connect below Skyrim,” Falion explained.
“Then, we are below Skyrim,” S’maath asked.
“We can’t be,” S’maash replied.
“Certainly not,” Falion started, “This is similar to Blackreach, though I do not know if it ties into other, dwemer cities.”
Slowly, they exited the lift and looked about. A thin mist slightly obscured their vision. Off in the distance, they detected a source of light. They treaded carefully beneath Brelyna’s spell. The vastness before them was so dark that all the mages casted candle light in hopes of revealing a path.
“The dwemer lived comfortably in Blackreach using the falmer as their slaves. Once the dwemer left for other worlds, the falmer made it their twisted refuge; the darkness is perfect for their senses,” Falion commented. “I have, however, seen a strange orb, a dwemer sun, if you will, crafted by masters, perhaps even Kagrenac himself. I cannot fathom what awe inspiring creations we will see here.”
The group had little to say. Magickal light revealed black stone under their feet. It was craggy and rough. A great many, sharp, stone hills lined the area, but only so far as they were able to see. Zolara came to a halt.
“Hold,” he intervened. “I fear we may lose our way.”
“Where are we going anyway,” S’maath asked.
“I do not know,” S’maash whispered.
“I’ll employ a set of fire runes as we did below Mzulft,” Zolara said.
“Excellent idea,” S’maash praised.
As they continued walking, S’maash and Zolara recounted their experiences. When the time came, Brelyna also told of when they had gathered the fragment of the Heart of Lorkhan. Zolara left many runes during their conversations; it made for a faintly glowing orange trail of breadcrumbs.
“Do you think there are falmer here,” Aicantar asked.
“Difficult to say,” Falion admitted. “The snow elves were residents of Skyrim, not Morrowind, but a great many years have passed. If these underground kingdoms connect then we might come across some of the falmer…if not, then I shudder to think what we will come across.”
An indeterminate amount of time passed, but with no real sense of direction or change in light, it was difficult to tell if they had traveled far or not. Looking behind them, they no longer saw the lift, just the orange glows indicating Zolara’s runes were effective; he laid down well over two dozen and had since lost count.
Exhausted from the hike, S’maash came to a halt and scanned the area. There were four, distinct, white glows in the darkness far away.
“What do you think,” Brelyna asked S’maash.
“I think we should strive for one of the glows and hope for a clue,” he replied.
“Sound thinking,” Aicantar said.
“Which one,” S’maath asked.
S’maash shook his head. He did not care.
“Falion,” the wizard asked.
“The one on our left,” Falion replied.
“Good as any, I suppose,” Zolara remarked.
They continued for a time, but the glow was so far away they had no choice but to stop, if only briefly, to eat and drink. Questioning his surroundings, Zolara casted a mage light spell. Like candle light, the magickal orb allowed one to see, but did not stay over the caster. Instead, it sailed away until reaching a solid object. There, it was supposed to stick, lighting the way. In Blackreach, it did not stick. It sailed off, vanishing.
“So far away,” he said under his breath.
Occasionally, the terrain declined, and the glow vanished from sight. At other times, the terrain inclined steeply, and the distant glow was easily visible. No matter how far they traveled, how long they walked, they didn’t reach their destination. S’maash grew angry.
“Alright, this is beyond belief,” he barked.
“What is it?” Brelyna was shocked.
They all came to a stop, and S’maash threw his pack on the ground. “I’m making a fire. We should rest for a while,” he grumbled.
The group was not in discordance. Producing some firewood from their packs, S’maash casted flames upon the bundle. Fearing an attack from within the darkness, they took turns standing guard. Some of them were too exhausted from travel to stay awake. Aicantar was the first to sleep. While lying on his back, Zolara played with mage light by sending the little orbs of light off into the expanse.
“Falion, do you have any suggestions,” S’maash asked.
“I do not; suffice it to say, we must continue soon.”
Brelyna and S’maath sat together. He placed an arm around her shoulder, and she leaned her head against him. S’maash stretched his muscles after unfurling his sleeping roll. Zolara eyed him. S’maash’s back was turned, so the argonian sent a mage light at him. As he turned, it stuck to his chest.
“N’wah!” the elf said as he slapped at the magickal ball of light. They chuckled at the comical display. “I hope we come to a resolution soon.”
“It would be a travesty to have to turn back because we did not pack enough food,” S’maath jested.
“Aye,” Falion replied.
“Tell us about your dealings with the other planes, Master Falion,” Zolara said.
“Certainly. I have been to every plane of Oblivion, Cold Harbour possibly being the most disturbing. While it is not the most dangerous plane, seeing everything you hold dear covered in blood, ash, and excrement has a greater effect than simple death. Hermaeus Mora’s Apocrypha, was rather incomprehensible, endless shelves of black books and the ghosts of those who seek knowledge. I did not spend much time there, as I had no desire to become one of those ghosts.”
“What about the dwemer plain,” S’maash probed.
“Hmm, I heard them use a word over and over. Being versed in various, dwemer dialects, I had to assume it was the word for their new home, as I had never come across that word before. They called it Xranthrnl,” Falion answered.
“And what did you see there,” S’maath asked.
Brelyna then turned her back to S’maath and laid her head in his lap. With eyes closed, she listened to them converse before falling asleep.
“I saw a world composed entirely of machinery,” Falion marveled. “Most of the constructs were beyond my grasp. They found a world containing a great deal of aetherium, a metal existing between the cracks of reality.”
“What,” S’maash asked.
“Every plane has some aetherium. Its properties are unknown even to myself, but it appears to exist in very little quantities in most places. I heard the dwemer had a forge specifically to shape aetheriumhere in Skyrim, but that might only be legend,” Falion elucidated. “At any rate, in Xranthrnl they had much, which could mean they still travel from one place to another, acquire the metal, and bring it back to their home. I saw extensive columns and domes fashioned from the ephemeral, blue metal; clockwork the size of kingdoms lined their deep caves.
“Every day, they toil, building, building more and more complex machines. In Tamriel, they harnessed the energy of stars. The Gods only know what they are capable of today.”
“We should rest…I will take first watch,” S’maash said.
With that, they took turns sleeping. S’maash only tossed and turned, however, though he was tired, too many ideas played inside his head. What will be accomplished when I place this Heart of Lorkhan where it belongs? There were no answers. He kept his eyes glued to the glow on the dark horizon.
After a few hours, he grew sleepy and yawned. Aicantar rose and looked at him.
“Would you like to rest,” the altmer asked.
“I’m trying.”
“I know how you feel, but try to relax,” the high elf smiled
.
While Aicantar kept watch, S’maash tried to quiet his mind, and before he knew it, he was out. In his deep sleep, he dreamt only of blackness. The ruffling of bed rolls and packs woke him abruptly. He was still tired, but wondered how long he had slept. After a little stretch, he stood. Everyone was up.
“Ready for more walking in the darkness,” S’maath asked.
“Yes,” S’maash replied, reluctantly.
Camp was dismantled, and they took off in the direction of the glow. Candle light spells were casted to illuminate the way. As before, several minutes passed on, begrudgingly, while they treaded ever carefully. A sudden, metallic scurrying grew over the silence. They halted with narrowed eyes, peering beyond their magickal light.
“Sounds like a dwarven spider,” Aicantar remarked.
For seconds, they stood still. Finally, the magickal lights died out. Once their eyes adjusted, they saw a faint, purple glow to their right. It was not unlike a purple sparkle of electricity.
“You’re right, Aicantar,” Falion said.
He then let loose an icy spear at the purple glow. Upon striking the machine, the glow rolled about. When it ceased movement, the frosty light of Falion’s attack was enough to reveal Aicantar had been correct. The spider then scurried towards the group, metallic legs clinking along.
The travelers stood still, watching for a second as the automaton came closer. Finally, it leapt into the air towards Zolara. He simply side stepped. When the dwarven spider landed, S’maath gave it a solid whack. The loud sound of the machine crashing against stone was nearly deafening.
“At least it means we’re getting close to something familiar,” Aicantar said.
“Unless it’s an errant spider that lost its way,” Zolara rebutted.
The rest paid him no mind and continued towards the whitish glow in the distance. After a grueling hike, the glow occupied a larger portion of the black horizon. In their excitement, they wanted to run, but it was not a safe idea. Any step they took potentially led off the edge of a precipice, so they continued at a modest pace, their anxiety reaching unbelievable proportions. Then, they finally saw what created the light, and it was much brighter than they had thought.
A mushroom of inexplicable enormity grew towards the ceiling. It was ghostly white, almost translucent, and with a soft-blue core. The stalk was smooth and the cap possessed several tendrils lazily hanging towards the ground. It was not unlike a glowing mushroom. The closer they came, the more they saw. The mushrooms were also akin to trees. Their stalks split off into several, more, vertical stalks, each with a cap. The center mushroom was tiered with a total of seven caps, the one close to the ceiling being the largest. A few other mushrooms, not quite so immense, but still pretty big, grew in the same area.
“Illuminous mushroom,” Zolara stated.
“Pardon,” Falion asked.
“I took some samples of these when we traveled under Mzulft. It shares some properties of the glow mushroom, but has some new properties as well. If mixed as a poison, the venom causes the target to glow. It illuminates the target, so I called it illuminous mushroom,” he replied.
“What if you ingest it,” S’maath asked.
“Ingesting the mushroom alone won’t cause you to glow. You have to mix in other reagents as well…oddly enough, I found it causes a momentary discomfort to light,” Zolara answered.
“Do you believe eating this caused the falmer to lose sight,” Aicantar asked.
“I would say it is a definite possibility,” Zolara replied.
They walked closer and closer. As they did, they slowly traveled up a rocky hill. Once they were merely hundreds of paces away, they no longer needed spells to see their immediate surroundings.
The illuminous mushrooms were taller than any building they had ever seen, except for Falion; he had seen unspeakable things. Soon, they reached the apex of the hill. A cobbled path lay at the bottom, a dwemer city was built into the black stone beyond. They had found an end to the blackness.
“You think we should move inside the city,” S’maash asked.
“We might as well. If those other glows were cities then there are at least four of them. I think our best bet here is to eliminate this one, if it is not the correct city, and return for supplies before searching the others,” Brelyna answered.
“Hm, a sound judgment,” S’maath added.
“Aye,” Aicantar agreed.
S’maash inhaled deeply as he eyed the city before him. It was much like every, other, dwemer city. Dwarven metal plates, shingled, round rooves, piping growing into and out of the stone structure, which was much darker than the gray stone used in other cities.There was also an echoing churning of gears present; it was breathtaking. On occasion, soft, billows of steam ejected. The light cast by the mushroom gave everything a haunting and ghost-like appearance.
“Let’s just hope this is the right one,” S’maash said.
They proceeded down the hill to the cobbled road and followed it to a round, dwemer door. It was metal, like the doors of Mzulft, but round, like the doors beneath Damlzthur. Several, concentric circles in an oddly spaced arrangement were apparent on the door. Bluish baubles protruded from the center.
“How does it open,” S’maash asked, touching the metal.
“Perhaps this is not the door,” Zolara ventured a guess.
“No, no, this is a puzzle. Hold for a moment,” Aicantar said. He approached the puzzle door and laid a hand on it. A slight reverberation crept into his fingers. “A tonal lock? I have heard of such things.”
“Come again?” Brelyna asked.
“Tonal locks respond to notes,” Falion started. “There must be an instrument or instruments nearby…if it is a tonal lock.”
“Most assuredly, it is,” Aicantar huffed.
“What do they look like,” S’maash asked.
“Could be anything. Look for something with similar, blue jewels,” Falion answered.
The travelers stepped back from the puzzle door. They looked all about the surrounding expanse. The city was quite extensive, so they broke up and followed the walls.
“I have something!” Zolara called out.
“Aye, us too,” S’maath yelled back.
High above them, they spotted slowly rotating machinery. Its double bow-like structure was reminiscent of the winding keys used in small music boxes.
“That’s it, boys. Use your bound bows. Strike the mechanism, so it climbs the thread on the shaft,” Falion ordered.
They did just so. After a few misses, they struck both winding keys. A resounding gong was the result. A slight rumble accosted their feet. Aicantar watched in awe as the puzzle door before him spun and spun. Each, complete rotation brought the circles on the door to an equidistant spacing. The front plate then slid into the ground as the circles retreated, thus creating an opening.
“We’re in, ladies and gentlemen,” Aicantar cheered.