The Aftermath: Entry #18

9th Sun’s Dawn, 4E 199

Drusus Varo, Overseer of the Ascadian Isles Expedition

My last entry shocks me beyond belief. I don’t remember writing it. I remember nothing about that day. Not one thing, save that Mehra should consider me forever in her debt.

But I did have a dream last night. This one was extraordinary, more vivid than any other. Though the most intriguing part is that I was myself. Drusus Varo, in Morrowind, prior to Red Year, because I was also Lord Nerevar Incarnate.

I read Mehra Milo’s note instead of writing it. Ministry of Truth, intervention scrolls, fishing. I became a third person on the fishing boat to Holamayan. I learned about my previous incarnation. I recovered the Tools of Kagrenac. I fought the famed battle in the bowels of a Dwemer ruin on Red Mountain. I did this all while weeping in the darkness.

I stabbed the heart, but then I realized that I had stabbed my own heart. I had become the Numidium so that I would destroy myself, no matter the outcome. At this point, all was lost and everything was floating in a sea of my own tears. My divine disease was back, my resistance gone. I was vengeful. I killed all of the Three and trapped their souls inside Keening, Sunder, and Wraithguard. Then I locked myself up inside Baar Dau, where nothing would stop me inside my cocoon of tears.

The moon fell. I still had the ring. I used it to command the weak folk around me, that they might become the final element to the Numidium of myself.

I had suffered a bitter end on Red Mountain. I had suffered bitter beginnings in an orphanage on the Waterfront of the Imperial City. This was my Dawn and Dusk, and it filled me with hatred. I wanted to efface it from the world. I wanted a province where there was no beginning or end, where I could always trust my Three companions.

And when I woke my pillow was damp with tears too. A silence filled the tent in absence of the ward. I found Cirelmo’s body outside, the ash soaking up the blood which leaked from an abdominal wound. Mehra had stabbed him.

I was oblivious at that time, and it took some time for my confusion to die down. Azura had been the only wall between us and the Nerevarine’s maniacal influence. The ward damn sure wasn’t just a steadfast air lock plus water breathing—it was also preventing Azura from reaching us. Without Azura, we were all at the disposal of the mad Incarnate.

Except for Mehra, that is. As she is descended from a line of dissidents and Azuran priests, her ancestors gave her the power to resist the Nerevarine’s charms. It bewilders me how dead Dunmer relatives can have such an impact on the living. But maybe that’s because I have no connection to my own ancestors. I grew up in an orphanage on the Waterfront of the Imperial City.

I suppose killing Cirelmo was the only way out of this.

Well, a way out for me that is. Besides Mehra and myself, not a single crew member recovered. They are all caught in Nerevar’s grip. Every. Last. One of them. At first we dreaded this consequence, but now I recognize it as a benefit. Because now, it’s all out in the open. Nobody hides their intentions anymore since they think Mehra and I are still psychopaths like them. We’ve flipped our predicament upside down—at first we were dealing with conspiracy; now we are the conspiracy.

The dreams, visions, and moodiness are back, and the ash storm is gone. This bout of hysterical jeopardy is drawing to a close. It will all be over. All I have to do is, well. Destroy the Nerevarine.

Gods have mercy on us. To destroy the Nerevarine. I’m sure it will be more difficult than all of our previous feats combined. What cruel force of fate chose me, Drusus Varo, for this? I’m just a crippled Imperial scout. Just an orphan from the Waterfront.

Previous entry: http://www.reddit.com/r/teslore/comments/2dzdn7/the_aftermath_entry_17/

First entry: http://www.reddit.com/r/teslore/comments/2cx8v6/the_aftermath_entry_1/

If you are reading this on mobile, please note that some crossed-out text might appear normal, possibly messing up the tone and syntax. I hope you will bear with my terrible formatting skills.

Also note that I do not consider this my “headcanon.” It is merely hypothetical, and not meant to be stated as fact or opinion. Thank you for reading!