Chapter 6

Chapter 6

     More tentacles, spinning, and splotches of green, then I was back in Apocrypha.  This time no welcoming committee awaited me, which didn’t hurt my feelings as the last one had been rather rude.  Since I for once wasn’t in mortal danger, I took a moment to evaluate my surroundings. 

     The first thing I noticed was that there were books everywhere.  I suppose I ought to have expected that, Hermaeus Mora being the Daedric Prince of knowledge and all that, but there were a ton of books.  They were stacked into piles, crammed haphazardly into shelves, and even just floating around in midair, along with several loose pages.  Apparently the Prince of Knowledge was an unorganized slob.

     Next I noticed the green liquid and waving tentacles.  Now I understood why Hermaeus Mora chose to appear as a mass of tentacles in his dealings with mortals.  Clearly he got the idea from his plane of Oblivion.  And I didn’t know what that green fluid was, but it looked unpleasantly like the acid that the Lurkers had spat, and I decided it would serve no one’s best interests for me to fall in it.  Well, maybe it would serve Miraak’s interests, but I was uninterested in his interests….  I’ll stop now. 

     Directly in front of me was a glowing flower sort of object.  It looked like it ought to do something, but I was rather reluctant to touch anything associated with Apocrypha.  I looked around.  There was nowhere to go, as the corridor in front of me somehow led absolutely nowhere, merely ending with an opening through which I could see more acid.  Perhaps the flower was some sort of activation device?  I finally drew my sword and poked it, jumping back as it snapped shut in response.  The corridor slowly began to rotate.  Ignoring my misgivings, I jumped onto it before it could completely clear the area, jogging to the other side.  The walls to either side would not permit me to see anything, but the corridor momentarily stopped by itself at another place to jump off.  I did so and found another flower thingy, which I activated with my sword again.  The corridor started to move once more with me along for the ride.  This stop had another of the large black books standing on a pedestal.  Was I supposed to read it?  Would it take me back to Solstheim?  I had only been here about 10 minutes and already the darkness and oppressiveness was wearing on me. 

     Without picking up the book I flipped it open and read two words before the spinning started.

     Chapter Two.

     I materialized in another tunnel of Apocrypha.  Part of me regretted that I hadn’t been taken back to Solstheim, and the other part of me was glad I hadn’t.  The glad part shrunk to almost nothing after I had activated a flower, gone through a tunnel, come out into a larger room, and walked straight into two Seekers and yet another Lurker. 

     I was rather more afraid of Seekers than Lurkers, but it turned out my fears were unfounded.  They died like anything else I had ever encountered and didn’t try to use whatever power had forced me back to Solstheim the first time I had been here.  They did, however, use some sort of magic that lessened my own Magicka, made my movements sluggish, and sent waves of burning pain through whatever body part it touched regardless of armor.  I quickly learned to avoid these blasts of magic at all costs while still closing with them.  I would have stayed away and shot fireballs, but they would transform into black floating wisps and chase after me, teleporting from in front to behind me in an instant. 

     Honestly, the thing that annoyed me most about them was their stench.  I really couldn’t think of anything in Skyrim or Solstheim to compare it to.

     After this there was another flower, and another book, then some more Seekers, then another flower which opened a gate which led to a folding bridge with a Lurker.  Another flower, more Seekers, then I came to a circular room with nothing but a pool in the center.  Eyeing it distrustfully I sidled around the side, trying to stay as far away from it as possible. 

     A long green tentacle whipped out of it and wetly slapped the floor as I jumped forward out of its way.  I dashed the rest of the distance to the corridor on the other side, hearing the thud as it once more slapped the ground behind me as I ran.  My heart was racing with the surprise of it, even though I thought I had been expecting it. 

     I killed a few more Seekers in the tunnel, then opened yet another book.

     Chapter Four.

     Here there was nothing but a corridor to walk through.  I walked through it up to another flower, activated it, and saw yet another book.  Sighing, I opened this one as well, prepared to be taken yet somewhere else.

     “All seekers of knowledge come to my realm, sooner or later.”  I spun around as the abnormally loud voice echoed from behind me.

     An eye floated in midair.  Not just an eye, either, but a writhing mass of tentacles surrounding an eye. 

     When I had entered Apocrypha, somehow the possibility that I might run in Hermaeus Mora himself had not even presented itself.

     I couldn’t really think of anything to say, and anyway I felt I should let the Daedra speak first.

     Wait, he already spoke first….  I meant wait for him to speak something else, something I could actually reply to.

     “I know why you are here, Dragonborn.  You seek to learn that which Miraak learned in his service to me.”  The tentacles waved gently back and forth.

     “Yes” was the only thing I could think of to say.

 “What you really want is to use your power as Dragonborn to bend the world to your will.  Here is the knowledge you need, although you did not know you needed it.  The second Word of Power.” 

     The familiar sensation of word merging with soul squirmed within me, teaching me Hah, the word for mind.  Instead of being elated at finding the second word to a Shout I became even more wary.  Daedric Princes never gave away anything for free.  I felt sure that somehow there would be a price for this.

     “Use it to bend the will of mortals to your purpose.  But,” he drew the word out, and my fears were not unfounded, “this is not enough.  Miraak served me well, and he was rewarded.  I can grant you the same power he wields, but all knowledge has its price.”

     There it was, the but that I had been waiting for.  “And what is the price for the last Word of Power?” I asked, keeping my voice steady.

     “Knowledge for knowledge.  The Skaal have withheld their secrets from me for many long years.  The time has come for this knowledge to be added to my library.”  The tentacles moved faster, almost as if in agitation.

     Something didn’t add up about this.  “If Miraak is your champion, why would you help me defeat him?” I asked.  It felt a little strange- okay, very very strange- to be questioning a Daedric Prince about this, but I felt it was a very valid question.

     “He has served me long and well, but he grows restless under my guidance.  His desire to return to your world will spread my influence more widely, but it will also set him free from my direct control.  It is time to replace him with a more loyal servant.  One who still appreciates the gifts I have to offer.”  The large eye blinked once, very slowly, and I carefully disguised my revulsion.

     “What if the Skaal refuse to give up their secrets?” I asked, trying to stall for time to decide what to do.

     “My servant Miraak would have found a way to bring me what I want.  So will you if you wish to surpass him.”

     And that is why I hate dealing with Daedra.  They are literally always right, and they can somehow maneuver you into doing almost anything.

     “Send the Skaal shaman to me.  He holds the secrets that will be mine.”  The eye blinked once more, then the whole wiggly mass vanished.

     I stared at the black book in front of me that would take me out of Apocrypha. 

     Hermaeus Mora had me caught between a hammer and an anvil, as they say.  I knew, and I had no doubt that he knew that I knew, that Storn would never refuse to give up whatever the Skaal’s secrets were if there was but a chance of stopping Miraak.  I wasn’t sure what would happen to the shaman when Miraak took the secrets, but if I had to bet on it I wouldn’t say it was something good.  If Hermaeus Mora didn’t kill him in some way, I would be surprised.  If I told the shaman what the prince had said, he would feel honor bound to give up the secrets.  Alternatively, I could just try to face Miraak without the power of the final word.  After all, there was no guarantee I could defeat him even with the full Shout.  I suspected that the last word would allow me to control dragons as Miraak did, but even if I learned the word, Miraak had had entire eras in Apocrypha to master it.  I doubted seriously that I could wrest control of the dragons away from him after knowing it only for a few days. 

     In the end, the truth was that I had a better chance of killing him with the Shout than without it, and the only way to get the Shout was to have Storn Crag-strider give up the Skaal’s secrets to Hermaeus Mora.

     It was with a heavy heart that I entered the far brighter light and life of the real world once more.  Storn had been waiting with Frea and instantly stood up at my arrival.  “Did you find the knowledge you sought?” he asked.

     “Part of it.”  I hesitated again.  It really was unfair of me to ask him to put himself at the mercy of a Daedric Prince just to get one advantage in a battle, but I didn’t see another way.  I hated forcing people into things, knowing what it felt like not to be in control of one’s own fate.  “I met Hermaeus Mora.  He told me the second word to the Bend Will Shout, but he refuses to give me the third without a price.”

     “And the price is the secrets of the Skaal,” he said heavily.  “No, do not look so surprised.  Herma-mora has sought after our secrets for as long as we have kept them from him.  I regret that I must be the one to give them up, but the Prince of Knowledge will have what he wants in the end.”

     “What exactly are these secrets?”  Yes, I know that the word ‘secret’ means something that is kept hidden, but I think if he was willing to divulge it to a Daedra he could tell me too.

     “Ancient lore, handed down from shaman to shaman.  They tell us how to talk to the wind and listen to the earth.  Herma-mora desires these secrets because it is in his nature to horde all knowledge, and our efforts to keep them from him have only made him all the more eager.  The ancients foretold that t would be the duty of the shamans to protect these secrets, but also to give them up when the time had come.  I believe that time is now.”

     In a wordless sign of respect I nodded to him, unable to think of anything to say.  I found myself unable to look at Frea.  Doubtless she would blame me for this somehow.  Or maybe not somehow.  Maybe I should have killed Miraak the first time I entered Apocrypha.

     I took the black book Frea had gotten out of my pocket and handed it to Storn.  As he reached to take it Frea grasped his arm with her hand.  “Father, let me,” she implored, showing the first signs of anguish I had ever seen her display.

     “No, Frea.  You are not the shaman yet, and there must be someone to rise to the position when I am no more.”  He placed his other and on hers, and I looked away, suddenly ashamed to witness the scene that I had caused. 

     “As always, father, I stand beside you,” she said quietly.  She backed away, looking on with a pale but composed face. 

     Storn visibly braced himself and opened the book.

     I had expected the worst, but not this worst.  The book rose to float in midair and enormous tentacles darted out of it, impaling Storn through the chest before I even had time to blink.  Frea screamed and I gasped in horror, uselessly grasping at the hilt of my Daedric blade.  “Do something!” she screamed, half sobbing.

     There was nothing to be done.  Storn had no time even for last words.  I could see he was dead even before Hermaeus Mora said, “Dragonborn, you have delivered me the gift I requested.  In return, I keep my promise, as befits a Prince of Oblivion.”  The power of the final word rushed through me.  Dov, Dragon.  At least I could have the flatly insignificant pleasure of knowing I had been right.  “I give you the Word of Power that you need to challenge Miraak.  You will be either a worthy opponent or his successor, as the tides of fate decree.”  The tentacles vanished, leaving both the black book and Storn’s body to thump to the ground.  Frea was at his side even before that, and half the village was gathered around by now. 

     A moment later she stood up, eyes hard.  “Go.  My father sacrificed himself so that you could destroy Miraak and lift his master’s shadow from the land.  Go then.  Kill Miraak, and do not fail.”