The Numidiad, Vol. III

Fourth Era

Morrowind

“My lord! Dire news from the front! Our expedition forces breached the walls of the last Dagoth Bastion, and the House’s reserve forces overwhelmed us! They are pouring out of the stronghold now, and it is all we can do to hold our ground at the Pass!”

“We expected as much from the lessened resistance, Commander. Dispatch additional troops as needed; the Dres outriders may be of particular use in this case. You must hold for one hour; after that, I will instruct you accordingly.”

“By your command, my lord Sotha.”

“My lord! What orders do you have?”

“How fares the front?”

“We have retreated beyond the Pass, but we give ground slowly. The onslaught is… more powerful than we anticipated, my lord, and the terrain does not allow us much ground to field.”

“Pull your men back.”

“My… lord?”

“Pull. Your men. Back. Vivec has moved Baar Dau into position above Dagoth’s Stronghold, and he is unwilling to sacrifice his own army with the Sixth House. Leave fifty Armigers at a choke point, and return everyone else to the Ghostfence. Their sacrifice will be remembered.”

“As you command, Lord Sotha.”

Cyrodiil

“The Dunmer are declaring the Fourth Era? The calendar is OURS! This ERA is OURS! So they destroyed some rebel clan on Red Mountain, what, they think they can declare their glory greater than the Empire’s? We should have ripped that lover-liar’s heart out to adorn the Peace he sold Us! Now, what of the Numidium? How fare the provinces?”

“Skyrim is in chaos, Your Majesty. Word has it that the Dunmeri assault on Vvardenfell drove a native species called the cliffracer westward, and their arrival in Skyrim brought about resurgence of their Dragon Cult. The Reach and Haafingar are embroiled in civil war with natives and High Rock, and the middle holds are fighting two fronts and paralyzed as a result. High Rock assaults Skyrim and is reported to be constructing a potential defense against Numidium on Balfiera. Hammerfell’s coast is destroyed, and her survivors are retreating inland to the Alik’r desert. Our spies cannot follow. Valenwood has gone dark and is reputed to be embroiled in a Wild Hunt on a scale never seen before. Towns near the border have fled closer inland. Elsweyr has expelled all foreigners and killed any they discovered after that. We do not know what they do. Argonia sends assault columns regularly against the southern woods, and while Leyawiin holds out due in part to Numidium, it is starving and weakening. As for Summerset, they continue to occupy most of its attention.”

“Numidium itself returns periodically to the gantries at the Hall of the Colossus for repair. Our workers report that the Elves grow steadily more adept at damaging it, but it uses its manipulation of the Time-chaos to undo some of their destruction. Furthermore, most of the fighting appears to take place in the ocean.”

“Forget the bloody flaming Elves! We must unify the continent, then We can turn Our full attention to the Isles. Smash the Bretons, clear out Skyrim, and We will deal with the Dunmer Ourselves. We must have the North!”

“As my Emperor commands.”

High Rock

The Direnni Tower dominates the Island of Balfiera. The original structure is the core of a large fortress constructed by the Direnni clan and then the Bretons over the millennia, though the gleaming silver shaft still looms far above the roof of the mortal-made stone structure. The newest addition to the complex is a massively intricate silver rune-form, writ across the ground and walls with arcane sigils carefully traced. Evidence of construction is everywhere around the tower, and workers can be seen pouring more silver into carefully arranged molds. Ships laden with silver from the northern mines have arrived weekly, and the blinding glare of the sun flashes incessantly off of the work.

Atop the Tower itself lies a smaller version of the ground’s rune-form. It, unlike the larger effort, is complete and glows with a pale light of its own. Thirty-six chairs adorn the rooftop: along the circumference of the silver, the octants each bear a cluster of four, and in the center, the final four face outward along the axes of the compass.

The scaffolding around the Tower bears a quiet procession. As they reach the top, the dignitaries quietly file to their seats. The rim holds elves from the Isles, Valenwood, and Morrowind, as well as Redguards, Bretons, Nords, and even four reptilian representatives of the Marsh. Four Khajiit also appear, having been dispatched by their Mane. The Cyrodiils are, of course, not present. In the center stand the three members of Morrowind’s Tribunal and the current head of Artaeum’s Psijic Order, Lore Master Celarus. It is he who speaks first.

“I thank you all for coming today. The menace of the Cyrodiils has affected us all, and though it may have been difficult to set aside old prejudices between us, the matter of the Septim and the Numidium concerns us all. I believe Vivec, of the Tribunal, wishes to speak.”

The assembled representatives mutter angrily. It is no secret that Numidium passed into Tiber Septim’s hands from those of ALMSIVI. The gold-grey half-man rises, and the whispers silence. He smiles slightly, and opens his mouth. Though his exact words are untranscribable, he speaks of the myriad time-shards splintering and dancing among the stars, and the multitudes of worlds born into peace at the cost of those crushed into ruin under the heel of the once-Dwarven machine. He speaks of love and loss and kalpic end and chaos, and the grand magnificence of the years to come purchased at the cost of the wounded world-scale of the inescapable present.

As Vivec ends his speech, a thundering roar is heard from a cloudless sky. The rooftop gathering stands in alarm and looks to the south-east. There on the horizon is a massive shadow swiftly drawing near. It is soon discerned to be a flock of dragons, and at their head, an enormous red creature bearing a figure on its neck.

Naafalilargus lands atop the Tower, scattering chairs and dignitaries, and the Emperor Tiber Septim alights. The other dragons circle the Tower, clinging to its side or landing on the ground or staying aloft. Tiber strides silently, majestically, to the very center. Lore Master Celarus opens his mouth, and stares dumbfounded and quiet when Tiber raises his hand. The Tribunal reacts in various ways: Almalexia begins rallying magicka, Vivec stands off to the side, half-smiling and half-sorrowed, and Sotha Sil immediately vanishes in a puff of energy. His voice deep and commanding, Tiber intones:

GHARTOK CHIVER DALKADOON TALOS.

DOVVE! GAHVON ZIILLE DII SAHROT KRONGAH TAAZOKAAN!

A wave, near-invisible, ripples out from Tiber Septim. As it passes through each dragon, the creature crumples, collapses, and begins to burn. As the scaly flesh disintegrates, brilliant streams of light flow from the corpses to the Emperor, who shines like a star descended as he consumes their power. Surrounded by a storm of light and crackling energy, rivers of draconic magic rushing into him, he hovers slightly over the silver filigree the Breton mages had carefully laid out. It begins to melt, and with it, the large design on the island’s surface. Tiber opens his eyes and laughs, a deep, rich, powerful laugh booming out from his throat, sweeping its path clear. The ever-present tumult in time, to which the others have long grown accustomed, suddenly reverts to calm, ordered linearity. The change is abrupt, and the madness’ absence now seems mad. Almalexia lies gibbering on the floor in front of him, and Vivec has vanished in the interim, leaving his garments discarded. Celarus opens a portal and steps through, and the thirty-two remaining folk burn blinded by the glory. A deep rumbling shudders through the Tower, and through the island as a whole, and Tiber Septim roars with the Voice of a God. Ada-Mantia rises into the air, vortices of wind and light whipping around it, and atop it rides the new-made Talos. Aetheric fire surges around him, obscuring his form behind scourging light. Ada-Mantia rises and rises, escaping at last the depths to which it sank when it was first created. The sun itself dims in the sky, and the two moons tremble. Finally, the Tower is above the ground, and the piercing light of the God atop it shines across the land. Spread out across Tamriel, lone dragons soar above the clouds, shouting their triumph for all the land to hear.