Entries of Cyrodiil: A Goblins journey

[Keanumoreira]

I have to say great work! Although I get confused on some parts, like when he lost his locket in the lake, but next part usually makes it all straight. I hope for the next part!

 

Thanks Omeletter!

 

More's coming soon. :happy:

[Omeletter]

I'm working on a story myself, it will be called "Colony", Sci-Fi though. I don't really know how to start it off, but I'll come up with something.

[Keanumoreira]

I'm working on a story myself, it will be called "Colony", Sci-Fi though. I don't really know how to start it off, but I'll come up with something.

 

I could always help if you want, just PM me or something; I've got tons of ideas to work with. :happy:

 

Sometimes though, it's hard to just pick one. :laugh:

 

Update: Following chapter is on its way fellow readers...

[Keanumoreira]

7:12 PM, the 18th of First Seed, the year of Mara, Era four of 439

 

It has been six months since we last saw Anvil disappear from over the waves, and into venture of unseen lands and shadowed worlds. I have finally begun to keep track of the dates and the charting of the stars as I continue my quest for physical and mental liberation. But these untamed waters have provided challenges of their own as they not only serve the gateway to a vast treasury of lost peoples and continents, but the test of one’s enduring skill and breaking point. In truth and literalness, we are trespassing in where nature has allowed to roam these misty oceans untouched, and she won’t give up her lands so easily again. Already we have faced terrific sea storms that have ravaged the bulk and the masts of the ship; the ones witnessed back in Tamriel and its surrounding puppet kingdoms pale in comparison to these inspiring monsters. Some of the ships exotic crew, whom have never seen storms on a scale so holocaustic such as this, named them hurricanes based on the gods they choose to follow.

 

Although some of the predicaments that have occurred around here are direct causes from dominant forces surrounding us that we are aware of, some are not so easy to explain. On day 47, crew members have warned the captain of “worms” eating away at the hull from the sea itself, and of a transparent spirit placing curses on them, causing their teeth to bleed and their bones to break. I have debated with them that the cause of these mysterious curses could be the cause of malnutrition, and this “Sea of Worms” to simply be a new breed of termites that dwell in seawater, perhaps later to be named Sea termites. But inconclusive proof has not convinced them to believe me if I cannot support the data to which I defend; perhaps it is because they are just ignorant.

 

But whatever proves to be true, there is one thing we can all happen to agree with; the voyage was a demanding one, but even if our historic journey is without divinity or celestial aid, I can’t help but hold on to the little strive for a cure that can’t seem to give up. I still believe that something lies on the other side of this world, that more Cyrodiilions do exist beyond the limits of what we can perceive. But for the time being, I would have to wait, all of us would, in the belief that this suicide mission could contradict itself and the skeptical others that doubted us from the very beginning.

 

It is now day 182, and each day lived on this rotting driftwood brings us closer to our goal. Today was like every other that came before it – Wash the dishes, sweep the deck, fix what needed to be fixed- but there was something about this particular day that stirred up impulse into the air, like something was preparing to draw us towards its center. It was more of a gravitational emotion to be exact.

 

All of us, usually quiet and self keeping, felt more alive than we had ever been as soon as that sun gave way to the nightly moon. As we observed it like we had done every night, only now as a group, a fire of different origins had been sparked; it was the very kind we had been searching for. We didn’t know why at that precise moment, but were nonetheless renewed with both spirit and heart, courage and vigor, now determined more than ever to go where no man had gone before.

 

“She’s quite a lass isn’t she Yori?” I looked over as Edgar joined me at the sides of the others,

 

“Yes she is. Some people don’t realize that our moon is but one of many natural wonders we are blessed to hold; today it seems ever more important.”

 

“Me crew do seem wildly tonight don’t they...Come with me to me quarters, we have things we need to discuss privately.”

 

“Is it serious?”

 

“Some do acquire more attention than others, but they revolve around the interests of where we are heading. Me sailing daughter is me personal concern souly.”

 

“Or we could trail her, just the two of us. Seems less drab wouldn’t you agree?” He scuffed his beard, giving me a firm grip to the shoulder,

 

“It is a fine night for a walk, and me men are occupying themselves...If not a little...What’s the word?”

 

“Zealous?”

 

“Yes, a tad over Zealous...Come, we have much we need to converse.” We left the railing of the ship as we proceeded towards the crew’s quarters, curving around the stern and moving back to the direction of the bow.

 

“I imagine you’ve read the orders Count Janus has asked of you?” I pulled them from my robe, handing them over to him in secrecy,

 

“Yes...” I whispered in a close breath,

 

“According to Janus, our first objective, once we set foot on land, is to seek out the village of Orsorum, located roughly two miles from the shoreline. From there, our messenger is scheduled to appoint a meeting with our cause, where he will pass onto Y’shar the documents. You and your crew are to unload and set up camp for the day, while me and Y’shar depart for the task ahead.”

 

“Good...good...” We positioned ourselves away from the crew as we took our next round,

 

“That leaves the Indian people.”

 

“What of them Captain?”

 

“I’ve been instructed to inform you of this land we are soon to meet, to give you an insight on what we are dealing with. This place, to what the natives in their canoes called it, is known as Kalantia, “Where the morning sun meets the mouth of the land.” From the view of the ship, it appears to be covered mostly by a thin sheet of canopy.”

 

“Is there much we know about it?”

 

“No, but what we do know is that the natives have set up a primitive empire based on what they have described of it, but in many ways, is more advanced than ours in time. The center region of their empire is situated on an enormous island, quite like how the Imperial city is. A series of surrounding islands serve as outposts and contain artificial causeways that lead directly into the heart of the empire.” He appeared worried as he continued, stopping in place altogether,

 

“They call this region Riffire “The birthplace of Divines”. In the little time they’ve occupied this region, the natives have expanded at a rate not seen since Alessia founded Imperialia in the first era. They even have provinces of their own after conquering other tribes in the area.”

 

“How many are there?”

 

“Four; Kemelay, Sheila, Kiraku, and Lyen, all which serve under the royal crown.”

 

“And you expect them to be hostile?”

 

“I’m not sure what to expect Yori, but if they are indeed a dangerous race, then I believe the Dragon Crown has its next conquest. That is, if we choose to relay this information. But if all goes well, then we should have you into a mortal once again.”

 

“Captain! Captain!” We turned around as one of the crew members rushed over, his enthusiasm catching our immediate attention,

 

“What is my boy?” Edgar questioned as he pushed me aside,

 

“We...we...we...” He struggled against the lump in his throat,

 

“WE!” He pointed excitedly to the commotion following his finger,

 

“OH OUT WITH IT!”

 

“We’ve found it!” He said gently but passionately, taking us by the arm as he hurriedly joined the others, Y’shar being one of them.

 

“We did it Yori! We did it!” He shouted as he spun me around, the bird agitated as it squealed in anger,

 

“Easy Y’shar! That thing nearly knawed my ear off!”

 

“Never mind that Yori! We did it, we finally found it!” He tried to call over the screaming of the men, but finally shrugged his shoulders as he celebrated with them.

 

The night seemed to take a new road that would no doubt end at new possibilities, and as the others danced, drank, and cheered, I couldn’t help but smile with them. It was like seeing a new house for the first time, and although one memory is left behind, a new one is there to take its place; it’s a new refreshment born out of the want to explore. And now that I think of it, as I stood there wondering above all else- Of fear, excitement, sadness, and happiness- I decided what my true intentions really were. It was an emotion I had never felt before in the long life I led, and that want to go further, seemed, then, and perhaps still now, the very drive every curious eye is looking for. And so I decided that, for just this once, I would unite into the crowd to which refused to settle down.

 

“Chai! Chai! Chai! Chai!” I looked over to Y’shar, who too was chanting the unfamiliar word,

 

“Y’shar!” I cried,

 

“WHAT ARE THEY SAYING?” He walked over to me,

 

“LAND!” He yelled as we headed towards the bow of the Seaward Helm, watching as the black smudge in the distance gradually grew bigger; Y’shars voice dying down to a normal pitch as we left the crew behind us,

 

“They’re saying that we’ve discovered land.”

 

http://guides.gamepressure.com/theelderscrolls4oblivion/gfx/word/84670390.jpg

[Keanumoreira]

5:38 AM, the 19th of First Seed, the year of Mara, Era four of 439

 

None of us could sleep tonight, our minds too preoccupied with the fantasies of gold, exotic riches, and new peoples waiting just over the teasing sun. It seemed to gloat with all its shining glory into mockery that it could view the vastness of a land mysterious when we ourselves still could not. But as the darkness retreated, and that black smudge became a green, morphing shape, steadily but surely expanding in all directions, our time, too, was going to come.

 

What did lie on the other side of the mountains was anyone’s guess, but to the individual mind, it was an ocean of if’s, perhaps even deeper than the one below us. Who were these people that inhabited Kalantia, what were their motives, were they kind or hostile, are they powerful or weak? Does this land possess new technologies, or a paradise of flowing desires? So many questions to ask were but the easiest to comprehend; the hardest was getting those questions answered. It was no wonder that the common pessimism, usually associated with paranoia and distrust, began to sink in while anxiety simultaneously clouded our judgment. This moment, what earlier explorers into the yet unsettled provinces that surround Tamriel today, at the time described, was the most dangerous of the entire journey to find new lands. It was of common occurrence that their logs left warnings to a society reading that in the wake of even the most explosive discoveries, “One is not to let morale lift itself above their heads into a sense of false security, lest they drown with it”, as one famous traveler once claimed in her expedition to uncover the secrets of these places. This idea only seemed to broaden as even the Captain celebrated festively, overlooking the leadership he is to enforce on the crew, and then, it seemed, that the warning couldn’t be any clearer.

 

But did I follow it?

 

Of course not…

 

I was focused more on the gathering of the seagulls and the breath of the tropical, maritime wind, too much to care. The others were drinking heavily and daring themselves requests to prove who the “alpha male” among them was. I of course didn’t join in, choosing instead to let my mind wander beyond the recesses of my mind and into the dreamlike state it deserved after these torturing days secluded on a wooden island. But our jubilance ran short when the weather took a turn for the worse, but this weather was far from normal.

 

“Y’shar?” I asked worriedly as the sky suddenly darkened, the crew in silence as the waves became restless,

 

“I think we’re due for another hurricane.”

 

“No.” His eyes were stern and locked,

 

“This is not the sign of an approaching hurricane, especially not one so close apart. These winds, I can tell, are paranormal, which only leads to one conclusion…”

 

“There’s a Daedric Prince nearby…”, he nodded in agreement,

 

“And fast approaching too.” We witnessed as the winded picked up, beating against the masts like the deep bellow of a beating drum, the waves in upheaval as it threw countless fish onto the naked deck.

 

As the storm progressed, a thick, blue-green fog assembled near the highest point of the ship, descending down into separate, concentrated, serpent like groups as they swirled like vines around our waists and the support beams. Lighting flashes with its passing, and although visibility is murky through the rocking of the ship and the spray of the salty rain, a faint, but clear figure is born out of the climax of the downpour. When it emerges, the fog envelopes around him as it slowly dies into nothingness, the sky again at ease, and the sea returning to its gentle hiccups as it moves with us; the root of this abnormality making himself known.

 

“Hello…Yori.” He pointed me out purposely as he crossed his arms seriously, the crew turning to me in muffled what’s and why’s.

 

“Mephala…” I stepped into the middle of the forming crowd,

 

“Why am I not surprised?” I looked over as Y’shar said dumbfounded,

 

“You know him?” But I didn’t answer, instead choosing to counter my grandest of rivals.

 

“What do you want Mephala; why are you here?”

 

“You know why I’m here Yori; the answer rests beneath your neck.” He inched closer, the crew further away as he neared them.

 

“You always knew how to drop in on the most convenient of moments.”

 

“What? You thought I was going to let you escape with my kingdom behind me without saying goodbye? Now what kind of Prince would I be if I didn’t greet my friends in their departure? Especially when they forget to return the favor.”

 

“Forget it; I’m not giving it up.”

 

“Oh you will give me the locket Yori, whether you want to or not.”

 

“Yori, I think you should do as he saids.” I glared at Y’shar as he proposed it,

 

“No, never. You know the story Y’shar, you know why I’m on this ship to begin with, in the quest I’ve been following ever since that day. YOU KNOW I CAN’T GIVE IT TO HIM!”

 

“You really should listen to your friend Yori. We wouldn’t want your mother to have…an accident.”

 

“What’s that suppose to mean? Explain yourself!” He grinned sadistically,

 

“You don’t think I know what you’re up to Yori; don’t you believe that I’m smarter than that? I’m aware of your intentions to free your mother’s soul from the burden you gave her since your birth. How does it feel to realize that you’re the source of all her pain and suffering, and that there’s nothing you can do about it?”

 

Tears welled up in my eyes, “Shut up! It wasn’t my damn fault, I was only a child, I was innocent! How was I supposed to know that she gave me intelligence because she wanted to protect me from you...my own father.” I croaked as the words spilled forth, the entire crew rupturing in disbelief as their skepticism, a mere taste of the truth but still a fraction of it, was confirmed party so, but only with a terrible twist.

 

My thoughts went back three, long years ago on the day I exited the Oblivion gate to find Orgith and the others, shortly after I contracted Vampirism,

 

“It’s almost as if she’s…

 

A witch…

 

And the proof is here for all to see…”

 

I remember precisely how I flipped the pages, the never ending horde of paragraphs and sentences rushing through my mind until I find the one Orgith wanted me to read…

 

"Mephala is following me again, ever closer, ever vigilant. As I carry Yori with me in my arms, I think of the intelligence I gave him, of how many people I laid to rest to protect my only offspring. I only wish now that he never learns of his true self, of his true father, who is pursuing me night and day for this locket that Yori will need to keep the gift I gave him. If not…then I fear he will kill him in the process of undoing it. I must rid myself of this diary before anyone learns of it…”

 

“Yori…tell me this isn’t true, tell me that this is just a trick, or a…a…a false account or something.”

 

“If I did Y’shar, it would be considered lying. It’s true…I’m half Goblin, half Daedra.” His arm fell from my shoulder as he starred at me with my fists tight with guilt,

 

“She wanted the diary destroyed to cover her tracks and to save what she stole from six other people.”

 

“But she never succeeded, did she Yori? Oh…and guess what? There’s more folks; Yori wears that robe for a reason. He’s been keeping an even darker secret these past few months he’s been with you.”

 

“Mephala, don’t, that’s enough.” I didn’t even try to stop him, nor was I surprised that he directly ignored me,

 

“Yori is a vampire.” He summoned the wind to remove my robe, revealing the pale skin underneath as it was carried away with the rough breeze.

 

Everyone immediately turned to the captain, who they all knew only talked to me face to face,

 

“You knew about this?” One of them asked openly, no doubt feeling betrayed,

 

“Now wait a minute me men, give the boy a chance to explain himself.”

 

“You let a vampire on the ship? What were you thinking? I bet he’s been feeding off the crew members too!”

 

“Now that isn’t true! Yori hasn’t been feeding since we left port, and besides, he only drinks the blood of animals.”

 

“Lies! LIES! You and that cat…that…that Khajiit, have been in compliance with him this entire time! You two are traitors!”

 

“Ahhh…how I love the smell of anarchy in the morning.” Mephala seemed to boast,

 

“Now, back to the matter at hand, are you going to give me that locket, or am I going to have to take it from you?” His innocence was the salt in the wound,

 

“Go to hell! I will not let you take this from me!”

 

“Hmmm…then I guess you’re going to have to come to me.” With the pull of his hand, Mephala commanded the waves to batter the stern of the ship, causing all of us to be jerked forward.

 

At the tip of his feet, and paralyzed with a broken arm, I was unable to back away, and submitted as he kicked me over onto my back, and gripped the locket,

 

“See? Now that wasn’t so hard now was it?” But as he tried to remove it from my neck, he was thrown towards the bow in a frenzy of red, crashing into the captain’s wheel and sending it overboard.

 

“That…that is not my locket.” He claimed as he wiped the wood from his body,

 

“What did you do to it?”

 

“I’ve done nothing to it.”

 

“You’re lying, that is not my locket!”

 

“I’m not-“

 

“Something very evil resides within it, some kind of curse you must have given it to prevent me from having it. I don’t know what you’ve done to do it, but if I have to unleash the full extent of my fury…” The nails within the floorboards appeared to rise as he stepped over them, causing them to bend upwards at random,

 

“Then I will…”

 

“Look, I’ll admit that things have been strange since you left, but I in no way tampered with this locket. Something must be interacting with it.”

 

“You’re lying I know it!”

 

“I’m not!”

 

“Tell me the truth!”

 

“I didn’t!” The wind and the waves began to gather momentum again as the sky darkened once more,

 

“I…don’t…like it…WHEN PEOPLE TAMPER WITH MY LOCKET!” The entire ship tipped back and forth violently, parts of it cracking and freefalling from every direction, smashing deep wounds as they collided with the deck.

 

“THE LAST PERSON TO TAMPER WITH MY LOCKET WAS MY OWN WIFE! AND THIS TIME! THIS TIME HER SON WILL PAY IN HER BLOOD!” Water was coming up fast, already licking the surface of our knees as the ocean swallowed the bulk,

 

“NOW GIVE ME THAT LOCKET!” He flung his arms outward, causing forces of dark magic to leap from them that were so horrific that it reduced the ship to nothing but the scarce, remaining wood under our own two feet, sending the others to a watery grave.

 

The locket, however, counteracted these forces with those of its own, struggling to keep them from penetrating into its heart. All I could do, as I had done in this very same situation as before, was watch as everyone I knew disappeared from sight, as a war on the Seaward Helm was declared.

[Keanumoreira]

Don't expect another entry so soon guys.

 

I'm fed up with writing at the moment so I'm just going to stop, at least for now. I've enjoyed all the love and support I've been given but I just can't do it anymore. My updates are not what they used to be because I stress myself so much to get them done, and in turn, the story suffers. I just don't have the energy to keep it up.

 

I doubt anyone will be really disappointed, but if anyone comes to it, then I think it would be worth it for them to wait for some time. A little break never hurts anyone.

 

But I promise this will have an end, sooner or later, but for now, the updates stop.

[Keanumoreira]

(K guys, I've come to the decision that I've been expecting too much from myself, and that not even a week later, I find it refreshing, but also boring not to write. So, I will continue with the story, as hard working on it as I can, and try to pace myself on the way. Hopefully, things will not go so sour. :happy: )

 

6:00 AM, the 19th of First Seed, the year of Mara, Era four of 439

 

I struggled to keep myself afloat on the wooden planks from the remnants of the sinking vessel as they were thrown about around me, the rogue waves washing over everything that got in its way mercilessly . It was like a witch’s brew that had gone horribly wrong; bodies and crates, pots and pans, dishes and more random debris, all swirling in one big mess, going in the only direction there was to go...

 

Down...

 

Down to the seabed where a long, dark, and lonely demise awaited you, ready to snag you in its hungry arms.

 

The unrelenting wind that made this cruel death possible, brought forth from Mephala himself in all his mighty rage, threatened to capsize me and the “safety net” I managed to create for myself. It was like trying to hike up a steep hill after a thick coat of mud has slid down its face. The only thing you accomplish is a fruitless attempt to gather height and a precise angle, only to fail and fall flat on your face. The slippery planks were much like that, refusing to allow me to pull my weight up and balance myself on top of it. A haven in the storm was so unbearably close, just out of arms length, but so frustratingly far away. But where I had a slight advantage over the siege of the water, there were those in the dozens that weren’t so lucky when faring against the same, but uneven odds.

 

Although the storm attacked with a heavy arsenal of dominant sea winds, it was their screams of agony in those final hours of life, that where loudest above all else. The pain of witnessing countless, irretrievable souls, sentenced to be lost at sea where no one could hear their pleas of death, still haunts my every dream to this very day. There was nothing I could do but to watch, hear, and in a spiritual, sort of pity way, feel as their lives had been claimed. I wanted to pray at that moment, for their lives, and mine, but I was so traumatized and scared out of mind to even gaze up at Azura, let alone ask her to find it in her heart to save one, insignificant mortal. And as I glanced over at the symbol of the drowning girl, all hope faded away when the last of its bold name “The Seaward Helm”, forever disappeared into the salty depths. All I wanted now was to die, the strongest will to do so at that point, perhaps to purposely suffocate myself below the surface to get it over with. But something from within, deep under those arteries, organs, and rivers of blood, gave some of that hope back in the scarcest of forms. It was no surprise to me to feel mothers influence so early again, and I couldn’t help but ask her “Why can’t you just let me die already?”

 

“Oh...that can be arranged.” Mephala offered as he eavesdropped,

 

“More so then you would think.” The calming in his voice, although still angry and uneasy, was unsettling.

 

You could tell by the look in his eyes that he was fed up with chasing me all those years, that in a way, it appeared to have made him much older than his youthful complexion would suggest. He was taller than his last visit, and much more organized and determined than ever before.

 

After the Oblivion event, he came to meet me on one other occasion before this one, this time, catching me in the Bruma Mountains, about three days after my transformation into a dark servant.

 

“Chilly today...” I stopped, slowly turning around to face the grey, snow swept path that spilled down below into the valley,

 

“Isn’t it Yori?” It was as if the wind was speaking to me as it blew against my dry face.

 

I could detect the bitter sensation of the call as it carried along with each of the winds passing, but its stalking owner was nowhere to be seen.

 

“Who’s there?” I responded hesitantly, my hairs on the back of my neck as sharp as my awareness, and my defenseless back as it stood against the mountains in the distance.

 

“Whooooo...do you think?” I wanted to say a ghost, leaning more towards a poltergeist since they are natural pranksters, but this owlish tone drew out those possibilities,

 

“If this is a trick, I’m not laughing! Reveal yourself at once!”

 

“If you insist...” I turned to where the source echoed from, finding him sitting there on a lone rock amongst the permafrost, smilingly at me intently.

 

“What do you want?” He found my hostility refreshing, if not appropriate, or so he made it out to be,

 

“Just taking a stroll on this clear, sunlit day...”

 

“I doubt that’s the truth Mephala.”

 

“Doubt?” He sounded surprised,

 

“Now why do that? You should know better than to judge your acquaintances on the first impression.”

 

I crossed my arms in that “cut the crap” show but don’t tell glare as it became apparent that he was here under the same circumstances,

 

“You want it don’t you?”

 

“Oh I don’t know Yori...I seek many things. More followers...a less unpleasant marriage...but since you were so kind to put it on the table...”

 

“You’re not getting it.” I interrupted, waiting for him to smooth it over with more of his witty charms.

 

But he remained silent for a moment, most likely testing my focus for what whatever it deemed useful to him, before saying, and dissipating with the migrating air,

 

“We’ll see about that...” leaving me with a conscious itchy with paranoia as I continued on to Bruma, scouting with my eyes for anymore, unplanned visits.

 

Now that I had thought about it, it made perfect sense, why we were fighting over a trinket that the regular citizen would gawk over in the streets as they left it there to rust. I wondered if it was truly worth it to continue this worthless feud, and, even though ambushed, a truce sounded like the only option.

 

“Mephala!” I cried over the howling of sounds,

 

“We need to stop this; we need to find an alternative to this fighting!” He stared at me in full glow of his mirroring, blood red eyes, casting a reflection off the waters that gave him an almost absolute image of an angry god,

 

“Never...”

 

“Mephala, please, we must come to an understanding, an agreement of some sort! If not, more people are going to continue to die!”

 

“And you believe I care for these pathetic mortals? I care not whether they live or they die, all I want is my artifact back, my manifestation of my power.”

 

“Is that what you want? Power?”

 

“What’s with you mortals, all you look to is the partial part of the picture! You have no idea what you have around your neck or how many people crave the secrets it can unlock. Can you comprehend the hell that will ravage this realm if a being such as the one imprisoned within it, were to get a hold of it? It would be the start of another Oblivion crisis, far more unparallel to what you have all witnessed before. Tamriel, what you all fail to realize, is where all of what is all began, it is the birth of the very concept of beginning. It is where life began and prospered, it is where it has spread and leaked into other realms that rose from the seeds of its creation. If you control Tamriel, then you control everything. Why do you think Akatosh is the head of all divines, why is it that everyone wants it all of a sudden, when in reality, it’s been the same game of cat and mouse since its very origins. The locket you have, that your mother used as preservation for what would become your intelligence, holds the truth to controlling Tamriel. That is why I need it, that is why you must not have it, because out of the hands of a Prince, especially the one tasked to protect it, is vulnerable to breaching. I’ve chased you all this time not for power, but for the preservation of good will.” Was he true to his word, could it be possible that a Daedric Prince actually...cared?

 

“If you don’t have sympathy for mortals, then why care of the fate of Tamriel?”

 

“Is it not obvious? With one person in control of the artifact, they can influence the other realms as well. I will lose my throne, all of my people. I will have nothing to live for, no use or drive! It is not all fact that I lose interest in you mortals, the truth is, I do think of what you all must endure. But my duties to ensure that peace is established must come first, and if that includes the death of a few to save millions, then it is a sacrifice worth launching.”

 

“Do you even know why I still hold this locket Mephala, why I won’t give it to you because of one key importance?” He studied the sanctimony within me, trying to find the rights words to express in spite that my very defile incensed him to the darkest degree,

 

“Yes...I know, you’ve asked me before on separate occasions. I’ve known about it since the day your mother died, of your sole wish to bring her back from the claws of death. I understand your situation, but would you really risk so many others to go through the same cycle you did, only under an oppressive monarchy, just to revive her?”

 

“I’d risk the very divines if it were possible!” I said without thinking about it, striking him with bewilderment,

 

“But I’d rather come to a standstill. There has to be something we can both agree on.”

 

“I’m afraid there is no solution but to hand it over. I’m sorry Yori, truly I am; if there was anything I could do to change things, then I would.” He was speaking to me without lie, this I could tell, but the thought of abandoning all I had set out to overcome, hadn’t satisfied me.

 

“No Mephala, I won’t...I won’t give this to you until I see her freed. You will have to pry it from my own, stubborn hands, before you get a hold of this locket.” He sighed disappointedly, almost remorseful, as he prepared for another assault,

 

“Then I guess this is goodbye...” With another withdrawal of his hands, the mist of black magic came streaming after me, once again rejected by the very object it was sent to retrieve.

 

The locket responded in a vehement reaction, very similar to how it triggered the explosion outside of Chorrol. In fact, the very same steps were playing their selves out. As I rose into the air, knowing that in a few seconds that the mainland would be devastated, I Imagined Orgith where the Prince was standing then, how that sense of fear must of been his embodiment when we knew he was going to die. And with a flash, the world was taken with it, soon to imbue me with guilt when I woke up...

 

When I would realize what I had done...

[Keanumoreira]

Early morning, the 19th of First Seed, the year of Mara, Era four of 439

 

“What is it?”

 

“I…I’m not sure…do you think…”

 

“No…no impossible; they wouldn’t be returning so soon. They’ve left almost half a year ago, took the mountains of wood with them. Why would they return?”

 

“Look, he’s waking up…” My eyes flickered open to two strange beings standing over me, their heads blotting out the sun which would have burned my exposed face.

 

“I think he’s dead…” The smaller one asked, poking me with a stick to make sure, the other taller and presumably older one, slapping him upside the head.

 

“You idiot, he’s not dead! Can’t you see he’s moving?” They backed away as I pulled my damp hood over my head, managing to have smuggled it off the Seaward Helm, and wrapping it around my body before the explosion.

 

As I maintained posture, they looked me over,

 

“What are you strange creature?” The taller one asked politely, circling around me in interest,

 

“What? You’ve never seen a Goblin before?” They looked at each other bewildered, as if I was from another planet; much more of an understatement,

 

“What’s a Goblin?” He asked,

 

“Yeah and why are you so…grey, and why are you wearing that hood and what’s up with the…”

 

“Ben would you shut up!”

 

“What I’m just askin!”

 

“Yeah, something you do too much.” He turned to me,

 

“Sorry about that, my little brother tends to speak his mind. So, you say you’re a Goblin? Did you come from over the water?” He pointed to the vast stretch of ocean over the shadow of the waking sun,

 

“Yes…I did. And you’re a…” I remembered what Captain Edgar told me about this place, what people I would meet,

 

“A Kalantian right?”

 

“Yes, I am, we both are. So you are from the fabled lands that the prophets spoke of, but you don’t look like the others that arrived here long ago. You look like a different species of animal, certainly a kind that hasn’t been seen around here. Are there more of you?”

 

“Yes, of all kinds. But most of them aren’t intelligent, or as skilled as I am. You can say that I’m the sore thumb of my people. They don’t even speak the regular language…” I stopped in midsentence, taking a better look at my greeting party.

 

Indeed they were different from Elarians, possessing a strange, reddish-orangish tint to their skin color that made them somewhat camouflaged against the early dawn. They seemed to be of the average scale of height, yet they had no hair to be seen of throughout the unprotected portions of their body they chose not to cover. They resembled man, almost humanoid as well as being bipedal; no proof of ignorance either. They both had red eyes so it wasn’t a clear indication that their species inherited different shades, but their absence of sufficient clothing, having only thin, brown cloths to make this meeting somewhat-but not insultingly-awkward, suggested that their people did the same. It wasn’t clear how they knew the language I was speaking, but it couldn’t hurt to ask them one question against the barrage they were throwing at me,

 

“Is there something wrong?” He gazed down at Ben, who by now was throwing a fit; probably growing impatient,

 

“How can you understand me?” He crossed his eyes as if he expected me to know the answer,

 

“We don’t know; do you mean to say that you aren’t speaking Kalantian? Your words fit ours, and your dialect matches up.” I shook my head in confusion, watching as it passed onto them,

 

“No. I’m speaking my own; to me, it seems like you can already translate my words into my language.”

 

“Well that can’t be right; we both can’t understand what we’ve learned to speak from different viewpoints.” I bet I knew what it was…I thought I felt something emanating from around my neck as I awoke on the crystal sands of the beach.

 

A surprise at every turn …

 

“Well it doesn’t matter.” I claimed, attempting to throw out the subject in light of less suspicious ones, although no doubt, they had their judgments of paranoia as much as I did,

 

“Eh, you’re right. I guess we should marvel at the fact that we’ve discovered new people’s. Glad you’re friendly, most wouldn’t have the pleasure of playing meet and greet before throwing their arrow. Something we’ve learned as we conquered this continent.” He appeared to be the embodiment of pride, but not yet reaching vanity; his kind nature made sure of that,

 

“That reminds me, do you two know of the village known as Orsorum? I’m supposed to meet the locals there.”

 

“Orsorum? Well of course! We live there.” He leaned towards me, moving with the sunlight and squinting as he went along,

 

“Wait a minute Ben…that’s him…from…from the prophecy! Why, you’re Yori aren’t you, the person we’ve been expecting! I imagined it would be one of our own, but I’m surprised I didn’t realize it sooner!” His face brightened, smiling as a friend would do to another in times of long separation,

 

“You know me?”

 

“Oh yes, everyone does! You were said to return to your kingdom to banish the oncoming tides of evil that were brought over by visiting eyes. To put more simply, we were told that strange people would arrive on these very shores, and that a god was to hide among them.”

 

“What Prophecy? What god?”

 

“Why are you asking me? You were said to show up and lead a revolution alongside your people, and here you are, ready to save us from death itself. You are a higher being; we know not why you chose to come now, or to come at all, but it has to be true, you have to be a god!”

 

“Me? A…a god? No, no that can’t be right, I’m no god. I’m just following orders, and in a religious kind of way, a pilgrimage. I mean, I know I’m special, but a god?” It was hard to wrap my mind around this.

 

Not being in Kalantia for more than five minutes, and already things are warped. If this belief of theirs proved fact over fiction, then something large at work was far bigger than what I had originally thought.

 

“No, I’m sure it’s you, it has to be you!” He insisted, tugging at my arm excitedly in erratic uneasiness towards the northern curve of the beach,

 

“Come! Come! I think it’s time that the others met you!” Without second notice, he and his younger brother were pushing me to the village, caught up in a story that could simply lead to misconception,

 

“Wait! Stop! You can’t just tell them I’m this divine arrival, what if you’re wrong?”

 

“There is no if, only truth! Just wait until the others hear about this; to think that we saw the prophecy unfold before our very eyes! We’ll become legends!” Ben looked up at him with joy,

 

“Do you think they’ll give us whatever we please?”

 

“Oh I’m sure of it! Pineapples, coconuts, berries; the finest meats from Venukeigu, the silkiest silk from the hands of the emperor himself, the freshest breads only sold at private markets! Just imagine Ben, the rest of our lives, free of worry! They’ll practically kiss the ground we walk on, preserve our image in stone and our name on paper, hailed as the hero’s of the mighty Kalantians!” Ben clapped his hands in cheer, running faster as their minds ran wild,

 

“Women, power, prestige, influence! It’s our divine right Ben, it’s our fate proved worthy! The minute we inherit that throne, we’ll rule over all! Just imagine what that crown must look like, how it will feel like to wear, knowing your part of a royal bloodline! At last we can speak those words; all hail King Jacob!”

 

“I’m telling you, you’ve got the wrong Goblin!” I argued, but they didn’t listen, convinced that I was this god destined to bring change.

 

But the only thing that changed was not for the better...

 

No…

 

Indeed, things were about to become far worse…