East of Windhelm, a strong wind billows across the frigid turf; tufts of snow and ice being picked up and tossed along with it. A frail snowflake dances through the air, riding the wind like a ship rocking against the waves of the sea. Before the frost, the speckle of ice would have begun to glisten with a wet dew as the sun warmed it's core. Now it only grows colder as it tumbles down from the sky. The wind carries the snowflake to and fro as it descends before landing on the blue foot of a captured daedra.

Talen: This it it... The Sacellum of Boethiah. Home to the worshippers of your mortal enemy, right Ellia?

Ellia feels a droplet of water trickle down her toe.

Ellia: Boethiah is rival to my lord, thus making her my enemy as well. Her worshipers are but sheep, feeble compared to those devout to the Lord of Enslavement and Domination.

Ellia: My sacrifice will not kill me. I will only be re summoned to coldharbour, where I will await my time to return. You can stop this still, Talen. Untie and walk away. You are meddling with forces wielding power far greater than you can comprehend.

Talen pauses. He never did know what would happen to Ellia when he turned her over, but he could have guessed. A sacrifice? It seemed so... taboo. But that did not matter. Talen set out to on this journey with one goal: to gain the strength to defeat the vampires that turned his wife, and return to the peaceful life he once knew. If anyone was capable of giving him such power, it would be the rival of Molag Bal, the creator of vampires himself.

Talen: I can't stop. Not now, not when I'm so close. I am only driven by one thing...

Talen: My wife.

Talen: And I refuse to spend another day without her. We're going.

Talen sets his stride in a fast march, his eyes glued to the path ahead. The soft pat of Ellia's bare feet on the snow behind him is all he needs to know the daedra follows.

Ellia: You can't truly believe that this will go over smoothly.

Talen: No. But an entire cult of daedra worshippers being unable to subdue one daedra is even more unbelievable.

Ellia: I am no ordinary daedra, Talen.

Ellia: You've seen for yourself, witnessed my power with your own eyes. Does the possibility of me unleashing that on you not frighten you?

Talen: I... No. Nothing can scare me as long as I stay strong to the belief that my wife still lives.

The next thing Talen hears sends chills down his spine. Something more frightening than the wispmother or Ellia's magic. Ellia's laugh.

Ellia: Ah, ha ha ha! The power of faith... I had forgotten how foolish you mortals really are.

Talen: Will you just- huh?

Talen stops as a darkness swallows the light of dusk. He gazes at the sky, seeing the a wave of clouds and twilight replace the sun that had been shining just moments earlier.

Talen: The sky...

Talen: The sun... Where did it go?

Ellia: Hmm. Of this you can thank our hosts: the cult of Boethiah. To cowards of deciet, darkness is their only friend.

Talen's stomach felt like it was about to tip.

Talen: Let's get this over with.

Talen: Not exactly the most inviting...

Ellia: Well? Gonna go say hi?

Talen: Please stop talking now.

Talen: Uh, excuse me? Hello? I need to-

Boethiah Cultist: Silence. I know of your arrival.

Boethiah Cultist: Tell me, worm, why have you brought a servant of Bal into this ground?

Talen: Um, t-to earn Boethiah's favor!

Boethiah Cultist: The mistress of treason and deceit does grant her favor so easily. Such a gift however, does promise great rewards.

Boethiah Cultist: Come. Show me the offering.

Talen: Er, right.

Talen turns aside to relinquish Ellia. As he extends his hand in offering, a sudden melancholy seeps through him.

Talen: Here.

Boethiah Cultist: Do not feel despair. I sense a great outcome for you.

Boethiah Cultist: Now, lets take a look.

Ellia: Take it all in. It's only just that you should see something beautiful before you die.

Boethiah Cultist: Hmm, it's a shame you wear a blindfold then.

Ellia: My death will stop nothing. I will return before the dragon break to carry out the destruction of your people.

Boethiah Cultist: We have been preparing for the event for five years, bitch. All those years keeping your Lord's power weak. You are running out of time, and I believe you are Bal's last ditch effort. So killing you will stop everything. You will not return before the dragon break, and by then it will be too late.

Boethiah Cultist: Does this upset you? Ha! I must say, sir, this is quite the gift you have given us.

Talen: Of course...

Talen's voice trails off. He has finally arrived at the opportunity he had been dreaming of, he should be filled with joy. But his heart hangs only in despair.

Talen: Can we just get on with this?

Boethiah Cultist: There is no rush.

Boethiah Cultist: Don't you agree, daedra?

Boethiah Cultist: You should be enjoying this. I know how lustful you creatures are.

Boethiah Cultist: I wonder what would happen if I give it a little pin-

Talen: Stop! Do your ritual and give me my power. I'm not listening to this anymore.

Boethiah Cultist: Hmmphf. Very well. I think that was just enough teasing to rile her anyway.

Boethiah Cultist: So helpless. I'd fuck you until you bled if I didn't already know you'd enjoy it.

The cultist yanks on the rope collar coiled around Ellia's neck, dragging her behind. When they come to the stairs, the cultist orders her to follow.

Boethiah Cultist: It's been too long...

Ellia follows closely behind, climbing the steps towards the shrine.

Magic pulsing from the statue emanates through her body, sapping her strength. The closer she gets, the more weary she feels.

As she does, though, her body gives off only one semblance of emotion.

A smile.

In Solitude, the day sun shines down merrily, unbecoming of the fate unraveling on Nirn. The pampered citizens of the city enjoy life unabetted by the cold omen, as they are also unaware of it. Inside the Temple of the Divines however, one priestess has sat patiently, awaiting the time the divines have promised.

Rorlund: Excuse me, your holiness.

Rorlund: I mean not to interrupt your prayer, howev-

Priestess: And yet, you do so anyway.

Priestess: When you disturb me, you disturb the gods. You do this often. I'm beginning to think you enjoy the punishments.

Rorlund gulps.

Rorlund: I... I never. It's just, you wanted me to tell you when that tome lit up. Well... uh, it did.

Priestess: Rorlund. Eyes up here.

Priestess: So... A dragonborn really does appear...

Priestess: Thank you, Rorlund. You may go. I will speak to you later about the disturbance.

Rorlund: Y-yes, your holiness. I await my judgement.

Rorlund: Oh, of all the priestesses why does it have to be her...

Rorlund: I'll never be able to keep my vow of celibacy...

At the start of the path leading to the Sacellum...

Taeyva: Hmm. These footprints are fresh.

Taeyva: It seems whoever I'm after has already arrived.

Taeyva: Looks like I will have to use you two after all. Let's go.

To be continued...

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