The Prophet’s in my dreams again. Did he notice I’d returned to Vulkhel Guard, or is it just coincidence that this is when he found Lyris and decided to contact me?
He’s found Lyris. And he wants me to save her.
I sit bolt upright in a cold sweat and almost hit my head on the shelf in my closet.
Calm down, Nerevar. You’re safe. You don’t need to go anywhere or do anything if you don’t want to.
It occurs to me that I was never afraid of Coldharbour and Molag Bal until I had something to lose again. Hope is the most dangerous thing you can give someone, and it can bolster them or, if broken, it can destroy them.
Lyris deserves better than this. No one deserves Coldharbour. (Okay, maybe some do…) I can’t save everyone, but maybe I can save one person. So, reluctantly, I gather what equipment I think I might need for this and head out to the Harborage. Butterfly net probably won’t be necessary but it’s in my pack anyway.
As I come into the moist cave, it occurs to me that the Prophet has an awful lot of books for someone who is blind. He greets me as being good to see me, but sees me as some sort of wound in reality, like that’s supposed to be reassuring. This, of course, leads him back into rambling about fate again and I kind of tune him out.
“More to the point,” I interrupt. “You told me you found Lyris?”
“Yes,” he says. “Her soul is in great danger, and she needs our help. I can open a gate to Coldharbour, but once inside, you must hurry.”
“I wasn’t exactly planning on dawdling there,” I say. “And you’re sure you can get me back out again?”
“Nothing is certain, least of all where the Daedra are concerned,” the Prophet says. “But I can keep his attention while you are there so that his cold eyes might not turn upon you.”
He describes how his mind is somehow linked to Molag Bal and doesn’t that just sound reassuring, too. This all just sounds like a terrible idea.
“Right… and what happens if I die there?” I ask.
“You will likely re-manifest there,” the Prophet says. “The path ahead will require courage, Vestige. Shore yourself.”
“Courage,” I say dryly. “Right. Open your portal before I think better of this terrible plan.”
Just a stroll through Coldharbour. No big deal. I used to do it all the time, right? I used to go wherever I wanted and take any dumb risks I fancied at a whim. It would not do for Molag Bal to think I’m afraid. Fear is his greatest power.
The Prophet opens a shimmering blue portal, and I step through and immediately look behind me to make sure it’s still there and not disappearing on me. I relax a little as it seems that he’s keeping it open and I can return whenever I wish, but I’d best not take too long regardless.
I’ve emerged into caves in what might be one of the foundries named something like Despair, or Detritus, or Dentistry. Probably not Dentistry. Not enough teeth laying around.
Lyris Titanborn is clad in rags and in something of a daze, and it takes some convincing to get her to realize that I’m really here and I’m not leaving without her no matter what stupid thing Molag Bal has done to her. Apparently he’s torn apart her psyche and locked pieces of it away. Ugh, it’s never pleasant when someone gets Molag Bal’s special attention.
“It’s fine, Lyris,” I say. “Just stay behind me. We can do this. And if you don’t have faith in yourself to do it, then have faith in me. Alright?”
“I’ll try,” Lyris says. “Lead on, Nerevar.”
Fine to tell someone to have faith in me when I barely have faith in myself.
We make it out of the foundry, cutting through a handful of Daedra to get to the doors. Outside, incongruously, is a place that looks a lot like Skyrim, aside from the spiky black rocks making up the cliffs to the left and the spiky black rocks that hover off the ledge to the right. Lyris is talking about her family, but voices from a burning building up ahead get my attention.
Inside, a Daedra attacks me, taunting me about how she already belongs to Molag Bal and is still mid-taunt when I cut him off with a spear of light to the throat. Never stop to taunt, guys. The ghost of Lyris’ father is there, possibly even her actual father and not just an apparition to torment her.
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“How could he pull you out of Sovngarde for this?” I wonder. “I’d hope you’d be safe there if anywhere.”
“I don’t know,” the ghost says. “I don’t know anything about this sort of thing. I was a simple warrior in life. Maybe he used my connection to my daughter to drag me here somehow.”
“And now he’s using that connection as an anchor to keep her here,” I say. “You two have any unresolved feelings you need to work out here?”
It seems Lyris’ mother was a Nord who died giving birth to a part-giant child and everyone blames each other for it. I decide to patrol the perimeter while they’re having a heart-to-heart, but no other Daedra are visible in the immediate vicinity. When I return, the ghost is gone and Lyris is ready to move on.
The next area resembles an army camp. Why does Molag Bal care about this woman so much that he was willing to build all of this just to fuck with her head? Apparently when Lyris was in the military, she had to wear armor specially made larger than most Nord women, and the fetchers in her unit liked to hide it as a prank. Seriously? And this is why mer often consider all humans to be children, because this is the sort of behavior you’d hope a mer child outgrows by the time they’re fifty. Because this is just childish. Sure, play pranks and have fun, but not the sort of pranks that compromise the integrity of your unit! How would any of them be able to trust one another in battle if this is what they do to one another?
The role of the soldiers is probably being played by Daedra in the shape of humans. Soul Shriven are often used for background roles in shit like this, but these were too lucid and talkative for that. I return the armor to Lyris and give her a little privacy to put it on inside one of the tents. With it on, she already strides more confidently.
Out the next door and down a path, and a projection of a human man appears before us. Lyris recognizes him as Abnur Tharn, and they start arguing. Abnur’s a traitor, Lyris is too hot-tempered, something about Mannimumble, and I wander off to find something to hit. And I find it, in the form of a large clannfear, black rather than green like Sheogorath’s one. And he’s standing on top of a very nice battle axe.
Once the clannfear is dead, Lyris runs up and says, “Nerevar, that’s my battle axe!”
I chuckle and stand aside to let her take it. “I suppose that means I don’t get an upgrade. All yours.”
Lyris hefts the axe. “It’s good to have it back. Being unarmed is like missing a limb.”
“Resorting to punching things can be downright embarrassing,” I agree.
The next path is blocked by a lot of rocks. Lyris goes up and just hits them to clear the way.
“Damn,” I say. “I know what they say about giant strength, but can you normally cause huge rocks to tumble down like an overturned ash yam cart just like that?”
We fight our way past some more Daedra, and for all her newly-regained confidence, Lyris also doesn’t know how to get out of the path of a charging ogrim. Really now? Those things are so slow and dumb and it’s always obvious what they’re about to do. Then again, she probably hasn’t spent as much of her existence as I have dodging ogrims.
“You okay?” I ask, helping her to her feet.
“Nothing hurt but my dignity,” Lyris says. “Let’s keep moving.”
In the next room, we come across another projection, this one of a bound human by the name of Sai Sahan. He’s in considerably poorer shape than the other one, and he tells us that Molag Bal is torturing him to try to find out where he hid the Amulet of Kings. Right before he vanishes and leaves Lyris screaming fruitlessly at the air.
“Lyris, he was never actually in this room,” I remind her.
“We need to rescue him!” Lyris says.
“I don’t think he’s anywhere even nearby,” I say. “But if the Prophet could find you, he can probably find your friend, too.”
Lyris sighs. “You’re right. We have to go tell him.”
There’s still one more piece of herself Lyris needs to find, it seems, and it become apparent as we emerge into another room with a huge, ugly statue of Molag Bal and she suddenly feels all her fears and insecurities returning in full force.
“Come on, we can make it,” I say. “For the sake of—uh, what was your friend’s name again?”
“Sai Sahan,” Lyris supplies. “Yes, I have to be strong for Sai.”
“For Sai Sahan!” I say.
A door behind the statue opens on its own, which is really never a good sign around here, but no help for it. A large room lays beyond, and a hatch in the middle opens up to allow a Watcher to emerge, all tentacles and eyeballs.
“Oh, I love these things,” I say. “Lyris, word of advice: don’t let the eyeball beams hit you. They smart.”
“Eyeball beams,” Lyris says, nodding. “Got it.”
We charge in with our axes, dodging eye beams and slicing off tentacles. I’m faster and more nimble, but Lyris has more reach and power behind her swing. It stands to reason, I suppose, considering she’s tall enough to make me look like a Bosmer next to her.
The Watcher dies, and we spot a column of light with a portal leading out of Coldharbour. Either the Prophet pulled through and made sure we didn’t have to backtrack, or Molag Bal is fucking with us again. No help for it. We head through, and emerge into the Harborage. Probably the Harborage. Coldharbour would probably still have spiky black rocks everywhere.
Lyris slumps down into a chair to catch her breath, and the two of us debrief with the Prophet what we’ve seen. The visions of the others we’d seen.
“If Molag Bal seeks the Amulet of Kings, then we must find it before he does,” the Prophet says.
“Why is this amulet so important?” I ask.
“Its misuse caused the veil between Oblivion and Nirn to tear,” the Prophet says. “And it is the only thing that can truly mend it.”
“Okay, well, let it just be said that I really do not trust any magical item that could do such a thing,” I say. “
“Your wariness is fair,” the Prophet says. “First and foremost, however, I must locate Sai Sahan so that he can be rescued. I am quite drained from that last venture, however. It took more out of me than I had hoped. I will need some time to rest before I can begin my search, but I will not leave Sai to the machinations of the Lord of Domination.”
“I’ll agree on that part,” I say.
That jaunt wasn’t too terrible. I guess I could stand to do it again. Saving one more person seems reasonable enough.