The harsh winds present at the Monahaven never could detract from the beauty of the peak for me. Honestly, I always thought that the simple sounds of the wind helped prevent a too-complete silence that would have detracted from its charm. However, the empty husks of Dovah long passed has always succeeded in dampening its majesty for me. The hallowed feel of the place unfortunately causes my mind to return to making a comparison to another hallowed mountain. It reminds me of Vvardenfell’s ironically dubbed Heart. Yes, from the moment I heard the bullshit prophecy depicted on the Wall, I could never unsee the similarities. They were both referred to as towers when mentioned in said prophesy, red and snow respectively. Adding to this similarity is the fact that both have hallowed, Doom-driven pasts, hosting great events that stand out amongst contemporary events in an age of metaphorical giants. Further Supported by the fact that these great events served as origins of prophesied events that have brought such Doom to a new Era. Well, at least I can say the Monahaven wasn’t a fortress full of hunchback cephalopods and ash vampires when I came to meet my Doom here. More comfortable temperature too. But then again, I did get to meet “Wulf” at the Ghostfence, so that was pretty damn amazing. I still have that lucky coin.
In any case, I’ve wasted enough time thinking about the past when we should be ensuring my future.
As I glance towards the Time Wound, and my lean to, my thoughts return to my “hoard” and its contents. With a thought the familiar sensation of everything but my thoughts stopping completely takes hold and a book-like image appears. I say book like, but for the life of me I still haven’t thought of a better analogy to describe it. An image appears and I will it to focus upon my inventory. So many jewels and drakes, such wonderous trinkets and wealth. I can’t help but be reminiscent of my trophies from my early jobs in Skyrim’s guild. They always had paying jobs, so they were a priority once I dealt with Alduin in Sovengard. The Companions came soon after, had to refuse Skjor and Aela’s premature offer to join the upper ranks(to my displeasure, but I couldn’t just let them know Hercine hates me and I couldn’t become a werewolf!), but at least I still had the chance to reaffirm my honor on the hunt for the silver hand. Then of course came the College, idiots who couldn’t understand that messing with a large object named after an Et’Ada leads to disaster. At least they were mostly nice and had a big library.
I thought I said I was not going to keep thinking about the past.
Climbing down from the summit and returning to my little camp by Paarthurnax’s wall, a simple whispered “Fus” clears the snow from the stones under the Time Wound with more force (heh, punny) than the full shout would have when I was first learning. Thankfully for my ambition (read as: never ending lust for as much power as possible while aiming at not being a worse monster than Mirrak, the Thalmor, or Harkon), Juergen had a pretty solid idea when it came to meditating and sparsely using the Thu’um without necessity. The wall brings a smile to my face as I reminisce on my first meeting with Paarthurnax. So many years and I still take pride in calling him friend. I’ve already said my goodbyes and wished him well. He declined my offer to try to take him with me; he always has been better at self control and acceptance. He’s with the Greybeards in the courtyard now, meditating and finding comfort amongst each other as they wait for the end.
I thought I said was going to hold off on thinking about the past!
Yes, the end. As Paarthurnax had predicted, Alduin was preserved to perform his true duty of letting the next world begin. I’m surprised at just how quiet it is, the end of the world. I guess I expected more bang. Instead of that, it’s just as if a fog is covering the world. I can even see the rim of Red Mountain as it slowly disappears in the mist. When I think about it, this mist is quite similar to what he did in Sovengard to trap souls. Neat how there's a similarity in the only two exceptional performances he gave that differed in format from the rest of my Dovah killing. Well, aside from the power behind his attacks of course. It’s a good thing that the Monahaven is so close to to being in Kyne’s realm, or else I wouldn’t have this chance. You see I have no intention to just give in and die to AlduWeener after kicking his ass in Sovengard. Not only would I have Zero-Summed if I was so weak in resolve, I’d be no better than someone without a Dovahsil if I just lay over and die without a fight! Only one who can truly be worthy of accepting their fate without a fight and not insult their Dovahsil is Paarthurnax. Only Paarthurnax. He’s more than earned the right to peacefully go. The other Dovah can only begrudgingly accept this end, for they cannot stop Alduin’s power and they respect that overwhelming power. Paarthurnax deserves to peacefully spend the end with the people who helped him have a reason to care and stay strong in his Way. Other than me, the rest of the Dovah and Joore don’t really have any chance to oppose this end in any event. Though I am quite happy that I can.
Stop being moody Me and GET ON WITH IT!
Well, I suppose that this is as close to the end end as is safe for my continued existence. I take my camp into my inventory and walk to the Wound in reality. This plan of mine came together when I was reading up in the College on old experiments I had helped with when I first joined. When I came upon the records from my assisting Arniel Gane was when inspiration struck. I had already gotten the “false copy of Sunder” before my acquiring the real set on Red Mountain, and thanks to Gane’s endeavor, I had acquired a “false copy of Keening” that was still capable of the “original” purpose. When I first saw the copy-after finding out that my extreme caution and panic to avoid holding it without Wraithguard was for naught- I couldn’t help but wonder if the two “false copies” were related. One not-so-quick trip to my pre-Akavir equipment stash on the ashen coast southeast of Blacklight later, and I had the Sunder “copy”, along with the real set. Unfortunately, I was distracted shortly thereafter and only remembered my curiosity when reading the records for nostalgia.
I have a problem…
Upon finally getting around to further examination of both sets, I came to a stunning conclusion. The weaker set was not a false copies at all, but a means of gentler, more precise adjustments that prepare tonal works for the use of the “true” set! This, coupled with a drunken accident involving a barrel of Mazte and a conversation about what happened to Septimus Signus led me to an enlightening question: how would Elder Scrolls react to the profane tools?
GET ON WITH IT!
Long story short for the sake of completing my plan- they can mess with the “wall” of the reality beyond the Dream. As this Kalpa has begun to end in order to birth the next, I’ve decided to put that ability to use in escape. I am going to try to leave the Amaranth. Let it be known that I have loved the many within this Dream, but in order to preserve my I, I am resolved to not join in the rebirth of Nirn in the next Kalpa.
Blah blah blah CHIM nonsense blah blah blah
I equip a blindfold and start the ritual. I must begin without sight or I’d be unable to complete this. Once blinded, then out comes the Scrolls. First the Dragon, then Blood, then Sun, each opened sheet overlapping. Next comes the fun part. Taking the gentle set I start the process of mixing the reality warping from the Scrolls with those of the Wound, taking care to ensure there is no explosive reaction. I may want to leave, but I care too much for the rest of the dreampt to ruin their next Kalpa. Now for the painful part. I begin pumping my magicka into the energies swarming around me in a maelstrom of arcane power, causing the already powerful winds to grow quite violent. Making sure that the gentle tools are safely returned to my inventory, I equip the true Profane Tools in their entirety. I feel the comfortable embrace of Wraithguard on my right arm as a spectral coating comes over my left, and Sunder and Keening feel warm in my hands. All that is left is to open the door and step through. I tear away the blindfold and force my eyes open in agony at the light and raw energy. I see the door, I knock with Sunder, unlock it with Keening, open it with Wraithguard, then store them safely away. I can no longer see with my eyes, but I can still feel the light burning my damaged eyes through my singed eyelids. My resolve is unwavering, and I step into the abyss without a second thought.