(From: Chapter Five Act Seven: Kindled Ruin (Part 1 of 3))

Gerruck: Just give up. You can’t win this!

Alduin: Oh, no no no. I want them to fight back.

Gerruck: Just… Just go away! You’ve already won. Just get this over with so it will end.

Alduin: You do not command me. I own you.

Alduin: Now stay silent and behold our victory.

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(From: Chapter Five Act Seven: Kindled Ruin (Part 1 of 3))

Galmar: Die, daedra.

Erinye: Ha ha ha!

Erinye: Nice try. But you won’t slow me down any more.

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(From: Chapter Five Act Seven: Kindled Ruin (Part 2 of 3))

Ulfric: Fall back! There’s too many! Fall back!

Carcette: I’m right behind you!

Carcette: Guh…

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(From: Chapter Five Act Seven: Kindled Ruin (Part 2 of 3))

Castalia: This ends here.

Elyvaea: Get me up there. Hurry!

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(From: Chapter Five Act Seven: Kindled Ruin (Part 3 of 3))

Talen: Taeyva will explain.

Taeyva: I’ve been checking with my wolves throughout the battle. I needed to know when the vampires were dealt with.

Taeyva: They were killed hours ago. It was never an army, just a small force. They were merely a distraction. Kept my wolves occupied.

Taeyva: They’re on the way now, but we need to act fast.

Talen: We need to draw the daedra further into the city. Once inside, they’ll be trapped between us and the wolves.

Talen: To battle! Chaaaaaaarge!

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(From: Chapter Five Act Seven: Kindled Ruin (Part 3 of 3))

Gerruck: All of this… It’s your fault. Yet you try to free me?

Gerruck: I wish I could thank you. I wish I could forgive you.

Gerruck: But there are no sins… more evil… than the ones you’ve committed against me…

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(From: Chapter Five Act Seven: Kindled Ruin (Part 3 of 3))

Gerruck: Guh!

Elyvaea: Gerruck!

Gerruck: Elyvaea… I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.

Elyvaea: Shhhh, my love. Everything is okay now. We can be together again now. It’s done. It’s over now.

The night fades with the respite of a new dawn as the battle of Windhelm ends. The relief of victory is held by heavy hearts. The city streets are littered with corpses. Daedra, dragon, and man alike lie in testament to the massacre. The living that step over them manage broken smiles, though they don’t reach their averted eyes.

As the remaining defenders limp back into the palace, the surviving leadership remains outside. Celann and Isran don’t say a word, silent in their mutual sorrow.

Ulfric and Tullius manage to offer one another a respecting nod, though fall short on what to say afterwards.

This victory could never be enough to diffuse the anguish brought upon by the entirety of this war. The change it will bring may not even feel worth it in the end. Perhaps some found peace in giving their lives to find this end. But death was not the only thing that claimed so many of them.

Taeyva: Thank you for your service.

Taeyva sighs as she mutters the phrase for the final, hundredth time. The words feel so placid as they pass her lips. Remorse gnaws at her, yet she feels unable to make herself sound genuine. How can she just keeps repeating the same line, for all of them?

She stares deep into the eyes of the last werewolf in her army, struggling to see the man that rests behind them. She wonders if its rabid stare is from the fading adrenaline or loathsome scorn. Perhaps it is best not to know.

Taeyva reaches out her hand and places it into the wolf’s matted fur. The energy of its wild soul pulses against her fingertips. She won’t take it away; not yet. But it is time to rest.

She presses her hand firmly into its chest, relinquishing the grasp of the beast. She draws her hand back as the werewolf begins to shrink, its fur receding into its now smooth flesh. Seconds later, an unrecognizable man cowers before her, bearing the same horrified expression that so many of them have shared.

He gapes at his at his quivering hands, silent, as his fingers open and close like that of a newborn child’s.

Taeyva: You are free to go or stay. I won’t keep you any longer.

He slowly lifts his head to look at her. He opens his mouth to speak but stops himself and just stares at her. He doesn’t shake his head, he doesn’t move. Eyes languished with despair gape at Taeyva…

…before he turns around and walks off.

Taeyva watches the last werewolf inn her army trudge out of view before turning away. She angles her gaze away as she marches back up the steps to where Talen and Dennis have been watching.

Taeyva: That was more miserable than I thought it’d be.

Her friends sigh along with her but are quick console.

Dennis: You handled it well. I couldn’t have done it.

Talen: When we have a proper chance, we’ll make sure they’re thanked for what they’ve given us.

Taeyva nods half-heartedly.

Taeyva: If they want it… I doubt they even feel responsible. They never wanted this. It wasn’t their free will.

Dennis rubs his neck and sighs.

Dennis: None of this was, really. But it’s important they don’t go unnoticed, especially.

Talen: We can’t expect them to forgive. At best, we can hope they at least understand.

Taeyva doesn’t respond, finding it difficult to lift her gaze. That is, until a call of her name lifts it for her.

Davey: Taeyva!

Taeyva finally smiles as she gasps in relief seeing Davey rush towards her, Mike running along behind.

Taeyva: Davey!

She scampers into his arms, wrapping her own around him as his pull her in close.

Davey: I’m so glad you’re okay.

Taeyva: Me too… Where are the others? Torund?

Davey cradles her reassuringly.

Davey: He’s fine, don’t worry. Mike and I just ran ahead to make sure everyone else is okay. I’ll explain everything.

Taeyva sighs in relief.

Taeyva: Okay, good…

Taeyva: Good…

Earlier...

 

Mike: The dragonborn… the dragons… They’re all dead. Does that mean it’s… over?

Mike holds his head in awe as he, Davey, and Torund take in the aftermath of the battle. His gaze continues to drift from the flames to the corpses to the rubble and back again. When it’s the entirety of the world at stake, there can’t be too great a cost. And yet…

Torund sighs.

Torund: Well, this battle is. But I don’t think we can rest easy.

Mike: Yeah. This is just another beginning.

Davey stays silent. Their conversation doesn’t make it past the walls of his helmet as he stares deeply into the soul gem in his grip. That girl, Elyvaea, vanished as soon as the dragonborn breathed his final breath. He can only assume she fled back inside. As he gazes into the magic swirling inside these purple, arcane walls, one of the last things she asked of them replays in his mind.

Davey: He’s going to die? And you’re fine with that?

Elyvaea: No, I’m not. But it’s the only way now. I’ve accepted this.

Elyvaea: When he dies, there is no afterlife for him. We will never see one another again.

Elyvaea: I refuse to waste away in this prison for eternity without him.

Elyvaea: When it is done, destroy that gem which binds me. Release me from this torment.

The gem shatters under Davey’s heel. As pieces break away, a trail of twinkling light flutters into the air.

As it drifts before Davey’s eyes, he swears he hears a faint “thank you” before dissipating. He looks up, seeing Mike and Torund facing him. Torund raises an eyebrow, but says nothing, allowing the silence to settle.

Torund: Well, you two should get back. By now they’ve figured out what happened. They should know that you’re both okay.

The two of them nod in agreement.

Davey: Right. And you?

Torund looks behind him, his brows folding uneasily.

Torund: I’ll join you soon.

Torund: I need to keep an eye on someone.

Torund stops at the ledge. He bites his lip to suppress the gasp. Below him, with a trembling hand, Malkor cradles Castalia’s corpse. His fingers reach over and tugs free her mask, letting it tumble loose before settling in a puddle of blood.

He doesn’t seem bothered by that blood, as it continues to seep over his legs before conjoining with the rest of the splatters that festoon them like a mangled wreath.

Torund: Malkor.

Torund shakes his head and sighs. He isn’t sure what to do or say. And anything he does is bound to come off a curt or abrasive. But even so, he doubts Malkor intends to listen. There isn’t even a sign he heard him. Torund watches with morbid unease as Malkor strokes Castalia’s pale cheeks.

Malkor: Cass?

Malkor: Cass? You’re gonna wake up, right?

Her warpaint smears slightly as his fingers drag across her face. The motion causes her head to roll and flop onto one side. Her jaw unhinges loosely as her eyes stay barely open, unblinking.

Malkor: Look at me… Please… Look at me!

As Malkor’s voice cracks, Torund shakes his head. Those eyes offer nothing but pain now. They’re the windows to the soul. But when that soul is gone, they’re a void. Staring into them swallows you in and you cannot turn away. They never shut and you can never close them. When you try, they just spring back open, as if mocking the life that was once there.

Torund: Malkor… Come on. Lets go. We’ll take her to the others.

Torund: Send her off peacefully. Don’t torture yourself like this.

His eyes close. A drawn out, relinquishing exhale escapes him as he carefully pulls his arm free. As her body falls, he abruptly stands, kicking her off him.

Her body flops over into the blood as Malkor’s head slowly raises.

Torund takes a hesitant step back.

Torund: Hey. Don’t… What are you doing?

His jaw suddenly clenches as a shiver ripples down his spine. What was that sound he just heard? There’s something watching him. Something close. Something-

Malkor thrusts a fist into the air.

Torund barely has time to gasp before the screech of an arrow pierces his ears.

Torund: Wha-

His vision floods with red as the arrow plunges through his neck, tearing out his breath with it. He staggers forward as his hands rush clutch his throat.

They quickly become slick as the blood soaks his palms. As he presses tighter to quench the flow, what little space there is open to breath completely seals off. He loosens his grip, allowing whatever futile, strained breaths he can. Seconds later, his knees go weak, and his face grows cold. With eyes open wide in shock, he tries to choke out what last words he can.

Torund: T-Tae… Run…

Malkor casually marches back up onto the ledge, nodding firmly to the falmer perched atop the wall. He stops next to Torund, now collapsed onto the roof, and sighs placidly.

Malkor: You should’ve known better, Torund. I wish we could have had an honorable battle.

Malkor: But this… This wasn’t what I’d hoped for.

Malkor: Still, some things must be done.

Malkor: I don’t have a choice now.

The rest of the wounded have staggered into the palace, urging the others to follow them inside.

Before passing through the entrance, Taeyva stops to pull Talen aside. As Davey notices her falling back, she waves him along, gently.

Davey: Taeyva? You two coming? We need to treat the wounded.

Taeyva:I need to speak with Talen. We’ll catch up.

Davey cocks his head inquisitively, followed by an understanding nod. As he and the others disappear behind the palace gates, Taeyva folds her arms and turns to Talen with a huff.

Taeyva: You heard what Davey said. Castalia’s dead.

Her blunt opener leaves Talen unphased. Though his scowl and the shadows under his eyes denote despair, the spark of determination flickers just as strongly as it did before. He nods, affirmatively, as he rolls back his shoulders.

Talen: She taught you how to enter Null, right? Erinye escaped. She’s after Isabel.

Taeyva’s arms fall to her sides. His voice sounds stale and mellow. He spoke so plainly, as if reciting an old script. There’s hardly any passion left. Or if there is, he can’t even seem to muster it.

Taeyva takes a deep breath and decides not to raise her concerns.

Taeyva: She told me how, but… well, I’ve haven’t actually done it yet. And you? I know we haven’t discussed it much, but-

He stops her.

Talen: Yes. I’m going too. I don’t care if I have to die to do it.

Taeyva: Okay. I see.

She pauses and stares back at him, tentatively.

Taeyva: Did you want to say goodbye?

Talen: No. I… I don’t want them talking me out of it. It’s best if-

Taeyva: GET BACK!

Talen gasps as Taeyva suddenly leaps behind him, hands outstretched glowing with a protective blue light. As she screams out, the shriek of an arrow following a clamorous snap of collapsing metal pierces his ears.

At the same time, a deep, passing wail echoes into the sky.

Baum crumples over as a dwemer centurion yanks its axe out from his back. His cry cuts short before he even hits the ground, splintering against the stone.

Talen can hardly react. He frantically twists around to see the commotion just as the ballista bolt strikes Taeyva’s ward. The magical energy ripples violently as the bolt snaps and ricochets into the air.

Talen: Taeyva?

Taeyva: No no no… Shit.

She grasps his tunic with her free hand, yanking him around to face her direction before tugging him down. He gasps, startled at the aggressive motion, before his eyes widen at an approaching shadow.

The centurion, lifting it’s metal foot from Baum’s crushed body, rotates to face them. A gout of steam hisses from its vents as grinding gears propel it into motion. It lurches towards them with blistering speed, arching its torso to heft the massive hammer attached to its arm.

Taeyva: Get below me.

Talen fumbles as Taeyva pulls his attention.

Talen: W-what? Below y-

Taeyva: NOW!

Talen screams, ducking underneath Taeyva’s outstretched arms as a blinding shield materializes around them. The centurion slams its hammer down, striking the magical barrier. Sparks scatter into the air the blow is repelled, staggering the centurion slightly.

Talen: What the… You can do this?

Talen gapes at the magical energy swirling around him in awe. Though the awe is soon replaced by apprehension as he notices the strain on Taeyva’s face.

Taeyva: Nnggh… Yeah. But not… Not for very long!

Talen stares above them as the Centurion continues to hammer against the shield. Each blow elicits a shower of sparks and bursts of energy. Yet he swears he sees the barrier flicker briefly, vanishing for an instant before fluttering back around them. Taeyva grunts as her arms begin to shake.

Taeyva: Immediately after the next hit, run to the palace. Okay?

Talen: What about you?

Taeyva scoffs, more agitated by his question that the situation at hand.

Taeyva: I’m not sacrificing myself for a fucking robot, Talen. Just do as I say!

Talen gulps, nodding timidly. He looks up to see the centurion rearing for another blow and readies himself. As soon as it strikes the shield, he lurches backwards, diving outside and into a sprint.

A booming explosion resounds behind him as Taeyva cries out in fury. He nearly stumbles over as a sudden blast of wind forcibly billows past him.

Taeyva retaliates against the centurion, condensing her shield into a ring of pure, magical force. As it winds up for another strike, she lashes out, expanding the ring in a single, sudden motion. The force slams into the centurion’s waist, cleaving it in two.

She doesn’t wait to watch it fall. As it tumbles into the air, she turns heel and runs after Talen. She doesn’t dare look behind her. She doesn’t need to. The clattering metal confirms the centurion is dealt with.

And the thundering steps of an approaching army confirms that she… that they…

…will be soon.

 

To be continued in part 2...