Part XVIII: Red Mountain Under Siege
By the Ash Mystic
I came to this place with simple goals of reforming this house in Milos’ image. I had a simple dream. I wanted to do right by my mentor and my friend, but it seems the gods have conspired against me to deny my friend his dying wish and that pains me more than a thousand deaths could. Uthol and his forces have already headed out to try and slow the rampage of the man I once knew and the monster from the bowels of Vivec. They will die and their deaths will only slow the two of them by mere moments, because they are not meant to handle monsters of this caliber—I’m not even sure I am, but my house is under siege and everything has built up to this moment—to this conflict.
I feel the ground quake with every step of the Great Devourer and I feel the silencing of a thousand voices as Eno cuts his way through those of Uthol’s forces who I didn’t shatter. Every moment I sit here writing is another moment those two get closer to each other and when they do, I fear for us all. I fear for what Lord Dagoth will unleash to stop them and I fear for us all. This is truly the end times, but I can not go out there just yet. I need a few more moments to collect my thoughts, to compose them, to write them down, because this—this will be my last entry. When I set this old journal down, it will be for the last time, because—I won’t survive this. As much as Milos has taught me, as much as I’ve learned, as powerful as I’ve become since he died—I still am—trapped. Trapped like Cerebel was and when I go out there, I will undo them both, but in doing so, I will undo myself, and that scares me.
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That scares me more than anything.
It scares me more than losing Milos.
It scares me more than when those thugs in Balmora beat me bloody.
It scares me more than the first time Eno told me he loved me.
But that’s the thing about life, isn’t it? Sometimes you have to do the things that scare you. Milos always did the things that scared him, like when he found me in the Undercity and he put down his knife long enough to hear me talk. He saw a scared little girl and he could’ve cut me down right there, but he didn’t. He listened to me. He heard me. And he loved me and I think that scared him more than anything else he had ever done up to that point.
And you know, as I look through this journal, I realize I’m not the woman who set out for Kirinibbi a year and a half ago. So much has changed since then and though my old friends would look upon me and see only a monster, I look at my reflection and I see for the first time who I was really meant to be. For the first time in my life, I don’t have to ask if I’m doing the right thing or if I should be a better person. I don’t have to wonder if my family would be proud of me, I know Milos is, wherever he is. I don’t have to be afraid anymore—this is what my life has been building up to. This is what my story has been about and now it’s time to finish it, once and for all.
Whoever finds this, I want you to know that I do this for you and for everyone who calls this land their home. Just as Milos loved me unconditionally, so too do I love you, and you are why I will march out there knowing I will not come back.
I suppose this is farewell, dear reader. Blessings of the Sixth House and the Tribunal upon you and your house. May DAGOTH and ALMSIVI guide your path.
-Dagoth Nevena