A Question of Posterity

Titus strode into the command tent and looked around. A thin figure seated at the general's table glanced up, a black hood falling from his head. A second figure burst into the tent at Titus' heel, sweaty and bedraggled from the summer heat. Titus turned.

"Gaius," he asked, "who is this, and why are they in my headquarters on the eve of battle?"

"I... My lord, he has official papers. Says he comes from the Imperial City, and requested an urgent meeting."

Titus' eyes widened. His right arm flew down to the ornate scabbard that hung at his hip.

"And you let him in?" the commander thundered. "He could be a hired blade for all we know! One of Thules' stooges, sent here with a hidden knife and a Scroll of Recall?"

The thin man in the corner stood slowly. Titus drew his sword and held it aloft, a faint glow against the tent's murky darkness.

"Speak, now!" Titus commanded. "Who are you? Saboteur, spy, or assassin?"

The thin man smiled.

"How about librarian?"

Titus lowered his sword.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"My name is Kasimir, and I'm with the Imperial Library. Don't be alarmed," the visitor continued, "we don't work for the crown. Many of us inside the gates aren't too fond of that gibbering idiot Thules, either."

Titus frowned.

"If this is true, then what in the world are you doing here? Sneaking into my camp on the eve of our assault on the City doesn't sound like typical library business to me."

"It isn't, but this is hardly a typical time," Kasimir replied, glancing around the tent. His dark eyes seemed to drink in every detail, from the battle plans on the table to the racks of enchanted Ebony amour dotted around. He turned back to Titus. "Despite what the Elder Council would have us believe, we're in an Interregnum. We have been since Ocato was unceremoniously bumped off, maybe even before."

"And what does that have to do with your presence in my camp?"

Kasimir furrowed his brow.

"Am I correct in assuming, commander, that to have mounted a rebellion this successful, you must be an apt student of military history?"

"You are, but I don't see what-"

"You probably know the Battle of Sancre Tor inside out. Troop numbers, formations, who was in command of each, and why they acted the way they did? Probably the same for the Battle of Pale Pass?"

"What is your point?"

"But if I asked you about the siege of Davon's Watch, you wouldn't have any idea what I'm talking about."

"Who?"

"Precisely."

"And if I wanted the details on High King Emeric's victory in Ranser's War, I'm fairly sure you wouldn't be able to help."

"Look, man, what are you saying?"

Kasimir waved his arms in a theatrical gesture. "All these stories, all these battles and so many more were played out on the world's stage during the Second Era's Interregnum. But so few scraps of information and literature survive from that period that it's practically a dark age. Think about all the stories we've lost, Mede! We only have a handful of reports, chronicles and letters to analyse, but the stories they tell are just magical. All the cities sacked in the horrible wars that ravaged Tamriel in that period, all the books burned, it's set the Imperial Library back. But new research was being started, finally, around twenty years ago, until the Dawn attacked. All history is a ballad, Mede, and we were finally learning the words! And now," Kasmir continued, his face gripped with passion, "now Thules and his damned Council are stripping us of our budgets and resources! The light of knowledge is fading from the world once more."

Titus stroked his chin.

"That's all very well, but why are you here?"

"As I said, we're in the midst of another  Interregnum. You're a brilliant man, Mede, and I truly hope you're able to capture the city. But you're up against the Imperial Legions. Your camp, your supplies, your troops... it all looks like the work of a genuis tactician, maybe even a potential Emperor. But the overwhelming likelihood is that this time tomorrow, your head will be on a pike; another dead pretender to the Ruby Throne. You haven't even one thousand men! And even if Akatosh blesses you on the field of battle, what is there to stop another usurper from overthrowing you in two years time? The truth is, none of us know how long the Interregnum will last this time around, how many stories will be forgotten to our grandchildren. But if I can be with you tomorrow, if you let me see whatever happens to you, I can make sure your name does not slip into that darkness. What do you say?"

After a moment of silence, the corners of Titus' mouth twitched. He opened his mouth, slowly.

"So... you want to be my chronicler?"

Kasimir's cheeks turned rosy. "Well, in a sense, yes, but-"

A smile crept across Titus' lips.

"Well, I suppose I could allow that. If a tale of my daring victory would help you fellows at the Library, who am I to say no? Posterity, and all that."

Relief washes across Kasimir's face.

"I can accompany you throughout the battle, then?"

"Of course. But, I warn you, I can spare no troops to guard you."

"Oh, I need nothing of the sort," Kasimir replied, rubbing a small, bronze ring on his left hand, "I have ways to remain out of sight."

Titus glanced at the ring, which had begun to shimmer. A small carved hare decorated the front. Suddenly, the commander let out a gasp - Kasimir had disappeared. Footsteps rang out from where Kasimir had been standing, and the flap of the tent swung open, revealing the strands of evening light. Kasimir's voice came from the entryway.

"Until tomorrow, Mede."

"Until tomorrow."