Rastislav
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Arc 7 Chapter XCVI: In The Mists of Sovengarde
🕑 Added 2024-09-12 10:11:22 +0000 UTCA/n: Previous chap has been thoroughly edited, the ending is completely different so I recommend a re-read.
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"Oof!" I groan as my back hits the dirt, more for dramatics than any actual pain.
Minthara looks at me for a moment with a genuinely dumbfounded expression before letting out a snort "Dumbass." She mutters and offers me a hand.
I wince as I feel a rock which had perfectly wedged itself in the space between my crown and my armor, though the pain disappears instantly as I grasp the offered hand, swiftly settling on my feet and needlessly dusting off my robes "Dramatics are a perfect reason for unreasonable behavior." I nod to myself.
She just shakes her head with a smile and begins looking around us, something I follow a moment later.
The first thing I noticed is that there was no portal behind us, only a circular rock formation standing where the passage should have been. My eyes narrowed with suspicion but there was nothing I could do for the moment so I turned to observe the rest of the Nords' warrior afterlife.
Most of it was covered in a thick and indubitably supernaturally heavy mist, my sight barely managing to pierce it even when I focused on any specific location. There were still areas free of it though, and I could see vast hills and mountains jutting from the sea of white, all of them covered in deep green grasses and trees.
The skies on the other hand were free of any mist, and a beautiful permanent aurora borealis shimmered in a dance of color so delightfully pretty I could stare at it for a day and not get tired of it.
Though the thing that drew most of my attention was not the things I could see but those I could feel. The Magicka was far purer than that of Nirn, the power feeling so abundant and untainted I felt I could draw it into me without even the slightest difficulty.
Not that I did that, who knew what would happen to me if I overdosed on afterlife juice.
There was also some kind of pressure, attempting to worm its way into my very soul but seemingly being unable to grasp it, my shroud and my nature as someone who defies the divine by his very blood holding back the likely attempt of 'integrating' me.
"The mist" Minthara's voice draws me from my observation, looking like she could feel none of the dangers I could "It feels... dangerous."
"Likely something Alduin did." I 'guess' "Makes it easier to hunt down lost souls."
"Bastard" She hisses "At least he could look the innocent dead in the eye before he desecrates them."
I give her a blank look.
"Yeah, yeah" She waves me away "We've already established that he is a cunt."
Letting out a light snort I begin walking down the rocky path leading into the mist "We could spend a year coming up with valid reasons to murder the fucker, a year we don't have" I wave for her to follow after me "Come on, best we get done with this."
She follows with a huff "You are way too relaxed about this" She mutters.
"Oh trust me, I am scared shitless" I admit with a wry chuckle "The lack of portal behind us no doubt means that there is no escape from here and even if I do not fear death, facing soul death is another thing entirely."
Idly I pick up a random rock of the ground, inspecting it closely I channel a bit of Magicka through in a specific pattern and the stone dissipates completely, turning perfectly into the magic of this place "Damn" I whistle "The magic here is way too malleable."
"It isn't like there are living magi to fuck with it" Minthara gives me a sidelong glance "Well, most of the time."
"Part of me wants to see if I could cook something up" I sigh "But I don't think we have a few days to just fuck around and build traps."
"No" She mutters "We do not."
"Let us away then!" I raise a finger dramatically "Onwards into the totally not murderous mists!"
The closer we got to the mist the heavier it felt, my sight still barely managing to pierce the edges of it but turning utterly useless as I tried looking deeper. Still feeling like experimenting I channeled a bit of my divinity and felt my gaze get shoved through, revealing a vague outline of the area around me and the faintest of silhouettes of souls in front of us.
"Definitely Alduin then" I speak up "The mist is divine in nature."
"So no magically removing it" Minthara sighs "Guess we will have to slog through it then"
I turn to her with annoyed look and she fails to hide a smirk "Yell at the mist now, please."
"Fiiinee" She 'surrenders' and speaks instead of shouts "Lok Vah Koor." dissipating a good fifty meter circle all around us and revealing the way forward.
Both of us stop then, as we are met with a rather... odd sight, I find it rather difficult to describe it otherwise admittedly, as we were met with a group of freshly slain Nords, familiar Nords in fact.
The fifteen or so Nord souls immediately turned to us, a few of them giving me odd looks specifically while one of them stepped out of the group "You haven't fallen have you?" He asks.
"No" Minthara shakes her head, a sad look in her eyes "We made it to the portal."
"Good" The once young man nods "Good... Our deaths were not in vain there." He turns to me and I recognize him as a kid from Rorikstead who had joined the dragon hunters recently, Erik or something "How are you here?" He asks me.
I shrug and smirk at him smugly "As if I'd ever miss out on ending this."
"Aye, can't begrudge you that, Flame-Tongue" He chuckles and looks back to Minthara "We would join your quest, dead as we are, Dragonborn."
She hesitates but then nods "I would be honored."
We continued on the path then, the procession turning solemn as a few more dead, those who died earlier in the battle, joined us one by one, bringing our numbers up to a nice even thirty by the time we reached our next stop.
And when we did I felt my eye twitching with a mix of surprise and annoyance. Kodlak White-Mane sat atop a rock, talking animatedly with Ulfric fucking Stormcloak, Galmar Stone-Fist and to my greatest surprise, Archmage Gauldur himself.
"What are you doing here?" I ask before my brain can fully process the sight.
Gauldur, the one I directed my gaze at immediately met it with his own "Ah, young enchanter" He greets me with a smile while the other two wait patiently, Ulfric and his right hand man remaining surprisingly calm and silent "I see you have finally made your way to this sacred place."
"Didn't we agree you would wait for a year or two before leaving for the afterlife?" I ask him "What made you think that coming here now was a good idea?"
"You will find, child" He smirks at me "That even if I am a mage, I yet remain a Nord. And no sane Nord would avoid the battle at the end of the world."
"Hear, hear!" Kodlak White-Mane raises a hand now holding a pint of mead which materialized itself as if on demand. The old Companion takes a long sip and gives me a slow nod "I have heard from my students of the advice you gave them. Your intentions honor you, young one, but you will find that rare is the warrior worthy of Sovengarde who would miss a chance such as this."
"That is your choice" I offer him a shrug "I simply made my own."
"As you should" He nods, bows his head to Minthara, and goes back to his drink.
And then finally my gaze meets Ulfric's.
We both stare at each other for a while, my disdain filling the air to face his simple determination "Dagoth" He is the first to speak.
"Stormcloak" My lips thin "Think you can redeem yourself by dying twice over?"
He closes his eyes and shakes his head "My redemption matters not in the slightest. I have lived a flawed life, and have made flawed decisions, this shall not be one of them."
"How convenient" I huff but still feel like adding "Your kid survived by the way."
"He shall reach heights I never would" Stormcloak bows his head.
Galmar just gives me a gruff nod "It was a good fight."
"That it was" I smile and step back, and Minthara takes my spot at the front.
All four of them immediately incline their heads in a bow "Dragonborn" They intone "Our might is yours, direct it."
Completely unbothered by the obvious risks, or simply understanding the Nord mindset more than myself, she gives them a solemn nod "Follow us then, the battle is not far off now."
They form up and join our procession, the solemnity and silence of it returning for a while as we went deeper and deeper into the Nordic afterlife, Minthara walking at the head of our troupe and following some kind of call as she kept to one direction even through the mists.
I felt Gauldur step beside me before I saw him, the ancient archmage looking ironically more lively than he did when I first met him "I see you have made use of my teachings" He comments after a silent moment "And surpassed them."
"Jealous?" I ask with a smirk.
The old man chuckles, a happy smile on his face "Far from it, apprentice. It brings me great joy that our art is capable of reaching such heights."
"You honor me" I bow my head slightly "I could not have reached such skill without your help."
Immediately, he scoffs "Couldn't have reached it my rotten arse" He curses "It would have just taken you more time, that I was able to get some of the glory by teaching you a bit is just my good fortune."
I turn to him and give him a blank look "You know, the humility would have been endearing... if you actually deigned to at least pretend to sound humble."
He chuckles merrily at that "Ruin my scheme, why don't you?"
"And what is this scheme?" I raise an eyebrow.
"'Tis simple really" He shrugs "I want you to at least try and stop me from getting devoured."
A snort leaves me unbidden "'No sane nord' my grey bloody asscheeks!"
The old man huffs and shakes his head "Will you help me or not?"
"Fine you scheming old fart" I shake my head with amusement "Just don't expect me to die for you."
"I am old, not stupid" He points out dryly and lets me move on without him.
"Is it true then?" I hear Ulfric's voice slightly to my right, him and Galmar staring at Minthara with a mix of awe and regret "You truly are descended from Martin Septim?"
Minthara pinches the bridge of her nose with some annoyance and nods "Yes."
"Then we were even more wrong than I thought at first" Ulfric sighs, his once right hand gripping his shoulder supportively.
"Want to hear something utterly hilarious, Ulfric?" I speak up as I near the group, and the two dead men immediately look at me warily while Minthara just rolls her eyes and gives me an amused look.
Ulfric sighs "What is it, Dagoth?"
"Mede legalized Talos worship like a month ago" I tell him with a shiteating grin "The Thalmor got pushed back by the Redguards and he used the opportunity to tell their ambassador to go fuck herself."
Both of the once-rebels miss a step, Galmar outright stumbling for a second before he managed to catch himself, the pained hiss of "Fuck!" Leaving the bear of a man's lips unbidden.
Ulfric on the other hand merely shook his head "Go on then, Court Mage" He tells me "Mock me for my failures and my foolishness, I am used to it by now."
"Oh you don't get to compare me to the Thalmor you ass" I growl at him, the nasty mood lasting for but a split second "You are the one who led to the deaths of thousands of his own people, you don't get to pull the pity card now."
"It is as you say" He inclines his head "You have all the right to gloat."
I let out an annoyed huff "Fucking ruin my fun, why don't you?"
Minthara just starts giggling then and there, eliciting the slightest upward twitch of Ulfric's lips.
I just let out a derisive snort and speed up, none bother me until we reach our destination.
Finally, the mists gave way without prompting and our small troupe steps out into a majestic sight. A grand Nordic palace sitting atop a monolithic outcropping of stone, connected to the rest of Sovengarde by a narrow and disturbingly insecure bridge made of massive whale bones.
And in front of that bridge stood an absolute unit of a man, or god as I knew him to be, staring at us all intently.
The moment his eyes met mine though, his mouth fell open and he honest to Dagoth gawked at me, thoroughly breaking the solemn and serious air around him as my mouth twisted into a smug smirk.
