Bits of snow swirled across the frozen, white-covered earth, some of them catching on my clothing and skin as the wind picked up, seemingly an indicator of a snowstorm yet to come when paired with the steadily advancing clouds marring the dusky orange-grey sky. I shivered as I began to fully notice the considerable drop in temperature as night approached, noting with only a sliver of dissatisfaction that I would likely be putting up with this for quite a few hours more. It beats trying to sleep, at least, I attempted to reassure myself, although I didn't take much effort for me to believe that. I was glad to have something to do with myself that hopefully might even help me with my own nightmare problem - or, at the very least, something that might give me the means to put an end to it.

"I appreciate that you have lent your time to assist me in this endeavor, miss-?"

"Helvia," I supplied, offering him a wan half-smile.

"Ah, thank you. I apologize, I now realize that I was so concerned for the safety of these people that I forgot to even ask your name. I am Erandur, a humble acolyte of Mara," he replied quickly, switching subjects shortly after, "But in all sincerity, it feels good to finally have a chance to help these people, thanks to you. Helplessly watching them suffer has been difficult."  

"I can imagine. Do you have any idea how long this has gone on for?" I asked, slightly out of breath from having to match the priest's incredibly swift, energized pace.

"Her influence has only been impacting Dawnstar for a month or so, I believe. At least, that's when most of the people I spoke to believe that their recurring nightmares began."

"Hm. Good to know." Roughly the same time she started targeting me. But I'm not sure that's grounds enough to consider myself affected in the same way as the townsfolk...

As we reached the edge of town, Erandur spoke again, raising his arm to point as he explained, "The tower on that hill is Nightcaller Temple - our destination. People around here call it the Tower of the Dawn, though I'm not familiar enough with its history to be able to tell you why."

"I have reason to believe the tower had been deserted for quite a long time before Nightcaller Temple was established within it. When the temple was active, the priests would rarely be seen in Dawnstar. They preferred to live solitary lives - so I've been informed." The barest sliver of suspicion arose in me as he rushed to add that detail. How would he know something like that, and why exactly did it matter now?

"Interesting," I responded civilly, wanting to at least acknowledge what he had told me, even if the way he was talking was unusual. Perhaps it was foolish on my part, but I felt that his intentions were genuine, and I was finding it extraordinarily difficult to feel even the slightest bit threatened by him.

We trudged through the foot-high snow covering the hill silently for a few moments, my boots crunching wetly as we continued upwards, the chill just now beginning to seep through the thick linen my shoes consisted of. It was at this time I realized perhaps I needed to invest in some better footwear before I headed even further north.

"Then the temple fell out of use again, and for decades, it has remained this way. Ironic isn't it... a ruin within a ruin?" Erandur mused, an out of place and oddly bitter smile on his face as he stared at the rapidly approaching structure. Now that was strange. "And, just so you're aware, there's a small shrine to Mara that I constructed inside the tower's entry hall. I was hoping to receive some sort of guidance from Her as to how to best confront this issue."

"And did you... uh, 'get' anything in reply?"

"Aside from the courage to persist in my efforts, I am afraid I have nothing else to show for it, my daughter. But the Aedra often work in mysterious ways, and I could hardly expect Her to create some physical item to help me easily do away with the threat the Prince of Nightmares poses to Dawnstar. Though I must say I do hope what I must do will become clearer to me once we reach the source of this great atrocity."

"Well, if there's any way I can help with that, let me know."

"Thank you."

We traveled in comfortable silence for the remainder of our blessedly short trek up the hill, and I took this opportunity to fully take in the exterior of Nightcaller Temple. The first thing I noticed was how structurally unsound the building was - the tower certainly seemed to have been abandoned for quite some time considering the fact the roof of the tower that made up what looked to be a good third of the structure had more or less disintegrated. In fact, it looked to me like it needed only a couple strong storms to knock down the building entirely. Tattered, earth brown standards fluttered in the wind, so old and worn that if there had once been some symbol on them, it was long gone now. As we grew even closer I noted that not only had the building crumbled, but even the 'sounder' parts of it - and I say that tentatively - looked ready to fall in if I looked at them funnily. The far left side of the building leaned that direction more than it should, leading me to believe that one day, Dawnstar itself might be on the receiving end of its wreckage. Deciding I didn't want to think about the instability of the place I was about to enter anymore, I decided instead to focus on looking for anything that might pose a threat to us. Just as curiously, the hillside was devoid of even the most common of skyrim's beasts, and there were no traps to be found either. Of course there aren't, you moron. Erandur came here before, and Oblivion if you know how recently he did that.

The priest reached what appeared to be the main entrance to the tower a few moments before I did, seeming almost hesitant as he waited for me. "Before we enter, I must warn you about the dangers that could be lurking within. Supposedly, years ago, this temple was raided by an orc war party seeking revenge...they were being plagued by nightmares just like the people of Dawnstar."

"I take it they weren't particularly successful, then?" I asked.

"They were not. Knowing they could never defeat the orcs, the priests of Vaermina released a particular substance known as "The Miasma," which put everyone inside the tower to sleep."

"So... If there's reason to be worried, does that mean this spell or whatever caused this is impermanent?"

"Yes. Well, more accurately, I'm concerned that when this place is unsealed, the Miasma will dissipate and they'll all awaken. And many will still be alive, too. The Miasma was created by the priests of Vaermina for use in their rituals. Because these would last for months - or even years, the Miasma was designed to slow down the aging process."

Maybe I could've overlooked the oddness of his earlier backtracking and hastily interjected "supposedly's", but his knowledge of Vaerminan rituals and the cult itself was quickly beginning to make me uneasy. "How on Mundus do you know all of this?"

"In order to more effectively understand how to put an end to the Prince's influence over Dawnstar, I have uncovered much about the cult's workings after speaking with the townsfolk, as well as poring over a few informative texts," he replied evenly, though before he had responded to me I could have sworn I saw a flash of fear in his eyes, "But, as it is, we've been tarrying too long. I will explain more once we're inside."

His answer was believable enough, but I still couldn't shake the feeling there was more to his extensive knowledge than that. And, despite his best efforts, he looked incredibly nervous about something, his tense, too-rigid posture and focused half frown practically giving it away. Guess I'll have to keep an eye on him too, once we're in there, I mused, not concerned enough about his behavior to be dissuaded from this opportunity to figuratively spit in Vaermina's face.

Erandur pushed the door open carefully, the heavy, rot-bloated oaken door creaking ominously as it begrudgingly swung inwards. The vestibule we entered into was shockingly unassuming, almost eerily resembling a quaint, local shrine made for a Cyrodilic divine. This was due to the makeshift-looking shrine to Mara established on the wall to my left, soft candle-light glowing cheerily from a few squat candelabras placed around it - doubtless installed by the priest in his earlier visit. It was almost scenic.

That is, if the majority what remained of the wooden pews within the room weren't knocked on their sides and broken, likely in some great altercation, and if the corners of the small entryway weren't near entirely coated in cobwebs. Sturdy iron chandeliers hung from the high ceiling, though the candleholders were in them were empty, and likely had been for some time. As I moved further into the room, I passed small ferns and noted that much of the stonemasonry sported a shaggy carpet of moss, that discovery in itself being unpleasant as the dank, wet smell of it assailed my senses. Dust motes floated through the heavy, musty air as I looked around in equal parts interest in unease, the hairs on the back of my neck pricking as I saw what loomed above a sturdy wooden lectern at the end of the room. There was a stone relief intricately carved to depict what the artist surely thought was Vaermina's form - I could feel it in my gut as I looked upon her deceptively peaceful, sleeping 'face', below which she grasped a skull of some sort. The design was so abstract I could scarce tell where her limbs began and ended - perhaps she didn't have them at all. I cast an askance look in Erandur's direction, desperately wanting to get a move on despite not seeing any obvious entrance to the rest of the temple.

"Give me just a moment, and I'll have this open." The priest walked over to the far wall, beyond the lectern, and laid a hand upon the wall itself. His outstretched palm began to glow with a pale but almost fiery gold light, and shortly after, what I'd thought had been an unsettling solid stone carving became fully transparent, leaving an enormous gap in the structure. Erandur gestured for me to join him as he stepped through where the wall had been, and I complied somewhat warily, unsure of what awaited me on the other side.

"And now, you can see the source of the nightmares for yourself," he announced as I stopped beside him, entering into a narrow corridor. "It's just this way."

As we rounded the bend, the stone wall gave way into some widely set metal grating, and I peered down through it curiously.

"Behold the Skull of Corruption, the source of Dawnstar's woes."

The center of this tower was completely hollowed out save for its base floor, at which another relief depicting Vaermina stood towering above some sort of stave - one that was shielded with what I could only describe as demonic warding. As I stared at it, I felt something within me shift, and a piercing, stunning agony shot through my brain. I let out a gasp as my hands flew to my face, gripping at my hair roughly, thoughtlessly as I was thrown off balance by the terrible sound of the Prince's voice.

At last, you have reached my temple, and with the heretic to boot. He was useful for something, after all. Continue to do as I have instructed you, child, and you will soon receive my blessing.

I stumbled backwards and leaned against the far wall, my breath shaky as I tried to comprehend what I'd just heard, her deep and voluminous voice rattling in my skull like rocks in a tin cup. Heretic? Does she mean that Erandur... Is he...?  

"Are you alright?" The priest in question's voice brought me back to the present, looking rather concerned as he cautiously approached me.  

"I... yes, yes sorry," I hurried to respond, laughing shakily as he it was now his turn to appear skeptical of me. "How do we go about doing away with this Skull?"  

"We must reach the Inner Sanctum in order to destroy it. Come, we haven't a second to lose," he emphasized, already starting off at a near run.

I followed a bit less enthusiastically, now extremely skeptical of Erandur's intentions but also equally unsure about trusting anything Vaermina told me. The floor soon became a set of rather narrow, slippery steps, slick with moss growing in the unpleasantly damp draftiness of the ruin. Not wanting to fall, I descended very carefully, keeping a hand lightly pressed against the wall just in case I needed to catch myself. What I could only assume was leftovers of the Miasma curled around our feet and in some areas even reaching our calves, appearing almost a purple-grey in color. I sincerely hoped it did not have the potency it presumably had on the others in the temple. Passing out here for a small eternity was pretty low on the list of ways I wanted to go. As we continued further into the ruin, the temperature seemed to drop considerably, and I couldn't keep myself from shivering despite the thickness of my cloak. 

Upon reaching the lowest floor of the tower, however, our progress was stopped rather abruptly as we came up to a translucent plasmic barrier that effectively sequestered off any access to the vile item that we sought. A soul gem seemed to be powering it, positioned almost tauntingly close on the other side of the substantial magical wall. "Damn it. The priests must have activated this barrier when the Miasma was released," my companion sighed, frowning as he regarded our newest obstacle.

"Is there any way we could deactivate this?"

"From here, it'd be impossible," Erandur confirmed, pausing as he seemed to consider something. "Hmm, I wonder... There may be a way to bypass the barrier, but I must check their library and confirm it can be done."

"All right, then," I replied, "I assume you know where to find it?"

"It's just up here," he called over his shoulder, already starting back up the stairs, "Be careful...we're certain to awaken some of the still living priests and invaders within."

I was somewhat slower to follow him back up the stairs - travelling by wagon had made me slightly lazier and I found that carrying both a knapsack and satchel were entirely more tiresome than they were worth. If I actually survived past today, I would have to remember to remedy this issue. More than a bit out of breath when I reached the top of the steps once more, I caught a glimpse of a glinting brass key in Erandur's hand as he then pushed open the door, placing the item back in a pocket on his robes. If Vaermina is just messing with my head, he could have realistically found it on his first visit. But if he had been to the library before, and has the key to it, why would anyone within it still be alive to give us trouble? It's getting harder and harder to give this man the benefit of the doubt, but what can I even say? "I think you're stringing me along without even having the decency to tell me what you're really after?" The last thing I need is for him to turn on me... If he's the sort to do that. Would it be better to accuse him now and get it over with, or-

"Is something wrong?" The dunmeri priest inquired softly, already having stepped into the narrow corridor that he claimed led to the library.

"No, not at all. I was just thinking about something," I lied, hastening to catch up to him as I drew my sword, "I'm ready to continue."

As it would turn out, as soon as we emerged into the spacious, wrecked room, we were immediately met by the sleeping forms of a burly orc and a dunmer dressed in strangely embroidered purple robes - doubtless an acolyte of Vaermina. The orc rose almost immediately upon our entrance, confusion briefly flashing across his features before his eyes settled upon us, unfocused but filled with rage. His mace already in hand, he charged at us, deciding at the last moment to aim directly for me. I barely managed to parry his strike, the muscles in my arms shrieking from the impact of the blow as a fireball arced past me and struck the berserker in his unprotected side. He cried out, distracted and obviously in pain as a hand flew to the singed skin, and I seized that opportunity to plunge my sword straight down just underneath his collar bone, the blade sinking deep into his unarmored chest. He let out a sickening gasp as I ripped my sword back out, blood spurting from the wound and sending me stumbling backwards, unbalanced.

It was then I would discover the acolyte had revived, too, and in an unpleasant way. Lightning flared from the cultist's fingertips as I turned too late to notice him, the spell striking me squarely in the abdomen. I collapsed inwards, my arm curling protectively around where I'd been hit as my knees connected with the stone. I had never been on the receiving end of storm magic before, and it was shockingly horrible, to say the least. My vision went dazzlingly white for the briefest of seconds and even though my mind was screaming at me to move, do something, anything - my limbs would not comply. The sounds of fighting continued, however, and it was enough to snap me out of my daze as I got to my feet just in time to see the priest of Mara finish my attacker off with a similar storm spell to what had been used against me. Ironic.   

With those two now dead and no other bodies in our immediate surroundings, Erandur made his way back towards me, a slightly worried frown appearing on his features. "That looked unpleasant. Do you require any assistance?"

"It's not so bad," I replied, my voice strained as I brushed him off, "I appreciate the offer, but it's probably better that you save your energy in case we have to fight off any more of these people."

"Well, if it does start bothering you, my offer still stands." He conceded, thankfully not pushing the issue.

Now that we were no longer actively being attacked, I finally took the chance to get a better look at the room. It was two stories, but was even more ruined than the entry hall - many of the room's supports had collapsed, though thankfully not enough to let the roof fall in, and many of the bookcases were overturned and the books appeared spoiled. The smell of decay was even stronger in this room, the lingering musty, putrid musk of mildew and rot almost suffocating to breathe in. Even more moth-eaten, faded standards hung within the room, hanging limply from the stone walls and likely providing the source of the worst of the smell. And, to my slight unease, there were even more reliefs of the Prince of nightmares carved into the walls. Being around those almost made me feel as if I was being watched. Which, if I was being honest with myself, was because I absolutely was.

"Come, let's clear out the room before we search for the book - it would save us from the possibility of being ambushed unawares," the priest suggested.

  "Fine by me. Lead on."

He started down the border of what remained of the top floor of the library, and, as ever, I followed, distracted enough by the stinging of my recently-gained wound that I did not pay attention to much else, other than noting that someone had overturned a brazier in one of the corners of the walkway as I walked through the scattered coals.

I was snapped out of my distracted reverie as the dunmer stopped suddenly at the bottom of the stairs that led to the base of the room, a distant look in his eyes as he surveyed the wreckage. "This library used to be filled with arcane volumes of immeasurable worth. Now look at it; almost everything's been burned. I hope the one we need is still intact."

Maybe I could've overlooked and ignored Erandur's awkward backtracking earlier, but this comment was enough to shatter my belief in what I now considered his facade completely. He seemed to realize what he'd just said as I exclaimed, "Okay, I can't keep ignoring the way you-"

"What... what happened?" A sleepy voice came from behind a bookshelf, and I whirled around to see a worshiper of Vaermina emerge from behind a bookcase. He saw us at the exact same time, exclaiming, "Wait! We're still under attack!"

Angrily, I hurled a sizable sphere of electricity his way, effectively shutting him up as he sagged against a nearby shelf. I rushed to finish him off, electricity crackling along the blade of my sword as I slid it across his exposed throat, moving quickly enough he was unable to stop me. Having dealt with him, I peeked behind the bookshelf he'd been behind previously to see if any others had been with him, and ducked just in time to avoid a blast of frost to the face. The untrustworthy 'priest' I had perhaps foolishly chosen to aid then joined me, flames crackling in one hand and an ebony mace in the other. He brought his weapon down on the mage's shoulder before she could fire off another frost spell, partially disabling her, then taking that opportunity to blast her with a gout of hungry flames. These spread quickly over her robes despite the general dampness of our environment, and as she desperately tried to put herself out Erandur quickly finished her off, an act that almost seemed merciful considering the circumstances.

With relative peace once more restored to our environment, I noted that he now avoided my gaze as I looked towards him, frustration still burning in my core. But, unfortunately for him, I wasn't going a step further before he explained himself. I was done trying to ignore and excuse the near-obvious.

"Who are you, really?"  

—————————————————————————————————————————————————

Wow, I complained about how hard Dawnstar was to write about, but rewriting a quest in favor of better character development as well as describing so much of Nightcaller Temple was positively draining. However, I'm honestly really happy with how this turned out. I hope you guys enjoyed it too! 

Also how fun is it to have two paranoid, incredibly scared losers with personal vendettas regarding Vaermina working with one another? Let's hope they don't have a potentially violent falling-out before they realize their end goals are generally quite similar. Haha.

~~~~~

QUESTIONS:

Question (From roseshavethxrns for Helvia): Do you regret coming to Skyrim at all after the events that have transpired?

Answer (By Helvia): Only every waking moment of my existence, yeah.

Question (From FanfictionsaPlenty for Helgír): Do you often find that you miss your previous traveling companions and have you found someone new to travel with in the meantime?

Answer (By Helgír): I do find that I miss my old friends a good deal, but it can't be helped. And oddly enough, yes. In my travels I met a pair of Orsimer twins who have insisted on accompanying me, if only seemingly for the thrill of fighting any dragons we come across or that I've been tasked to kill. They're pleasant enough to be around, however, if a little overbearing at times.

Question (From BlakeK173 for Kha'Drazza): How is it meeting another bard? Do you two share any favorite songs? Its nice that a Nord is being kind to a Khajiit considering the common bias against your race.

Answer (By Kha'Drazza): This one has very much enjoyed talking to the other bard, Karita. She is rather young and Kha'Drazza has discovered that the innkeeper is her father, but she appears to see khajiit to be just as valuable as her own kind. Karita has not written any stories herself, yet, but she is practicing, and khajiit learned a very interesting local legend from her. It concerns Tharik Horker-Foe, a Nord who is said to have set out to punch every horker in Skyrim after one bit his wife. It is an entertaining concept, no?

Question (From IMoozie for Vaermina): How much wood can a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood?

Answer (By Vaermina): And why does this read 'answer', exactly? I would prefer not to demean myself by even giving it the slightest amount of thought. And furthermore, didn't that wordplay's popularity die in the early two thousands? Why is it still a thing? Is it still a thing?

Sheogorath: The approximate amount's two hundred thirty-six pieces of wood, by the way. Though I suppose it could vary depending on the stature of the-

Vaermina: Screw this, I'm leaving.

~~~~~

If anyone has any more questions for anyone in Mage, feel free to ask them! If they've appeared in Mage at all, regardless of how long they were a part of the story, they're open to ask questions!

Well, as always, please do leave a vote and/or comment if you enjoyed the chapter, and see you next time! Good adventuring, dear readers!

-AA