Visul was already a deranged man.
Thousands of years of hatred burned in his heart like a raging fire; if not for the thought of revenge still sustaining him, he would have long ago turned into a twisted creature like the Falmer.
He shouted, "You must help me!"
"Why?" Simon asked.
"I am rebelling against the Gods! Against fate!" The Arch-Curate's expression was ferocious, his handsome Snow Elf features twisting into a wrathful demon, fangs sharp, tending towards becoming a bat. Harkon approached, pressed his right hand to Visul's forehead, and by some unknown method, Visul calmed down.
Without his madness, he was as placid as a block of ice. Beneath the frozen dome, his gaze was vacant for a long time. Simon even suspected he had fallen asleep with his eyes open. Visul's state truly seemed to be between waking and sleeping. Serana gently explained, "He has been awestruck by the superior Vampire bloodline."
Visul's lips moved, and he slowly murmured in a hoarse, low voice, "The Gods abandoned me, ignored my merits, and decreed my fate based on their likes and dislikes.
"You say, in a world where Gods exist, where is there any fairness? We Snow Elves don't need Gods. Gods cannot bring us victory. Those barbarians, they invaded our land, slaughtered our people. Skyrim belongs to us.
"Look at those cursed Falmer. The betrayals we have suffered are not just once. Gods, friends, family—none are worth trusting. So, I want to establish a Revelation, or whatever else, to propose some ideal, just like all those who deceived me (men, elves, and Gods), to create a beautiful world, and then people will rush forward for something ethereal."
Visul revealed a happy smile, "The moment the Inner Sanctuary was captured, I was truly happy. You see, Gods are not omnipotent. If He also cherished His reputation, why didn't He send down fire to kill me and those betrayers? So, my plan can succeed: cut off the Gods' influence in the mortal world and make people completely forget His existence! This is my revenge!" As his tone grew more frantic, he broke free from Harkon's awe. "You, quickly join my plan! Please?"
Serana's voice was pained, "So, I was sealed away by my mother for several eras, my family shattered, all because of you!"
Visul grinned, but there was no joy in his eyes, rather more mockery of fate. "You lost your family, I lost my people. We are both pitiful beings fooled by the Gods. Come, give me your blood, just a little is enough. We will defile the sun! Cough, cough, cough, I won't say anything more. I'll give you the bow. It's on the terrace behind. Go get it. When you decide you want to do this, you will. Because rebelling against the Gods is the fate of mortals!"
Harkon lowered his head, scrutinizing the Arch-Curate of Auriel from the side, then suddenly laughed, "Hahahaha, hahahaha! This is truly a funny joke! So funny!" The Lord laughed with all his might, almost hysterically, giving his all.
Serana walked to Simon's side, leaning on his arm, watching the unfolding conclusion.
Harkon suddenly lunged at Visul, biting his neck and drinking his blood. The Lord's body rapidly swelled and recovered. He roared, grabbed the Snow Elf, and soared into the sky, smashing through the chapel's high ceiling. Amidst the tremors, they flew into the sky. The darkness of the night enveloped the kin of the night. A terrifying shriek came from afar, then suddenly ceased. After an explosive sound, the clouds turned blood-red, and crimson snowflakes continuously fell.
Serana struggled to grasp Simon's arm, preventing herself from collapsing to the ground. She closed her eyes, tears falling like stars, like drops of water into the sea on the sorrowful frost.
Was the endless cold of the Forgotten Vale formed from the tears of the Snow Elf race?
... In the Nordic Pantheon, Kyne is the Goddess of the Sky, also the Mother of Rain and Mother of Tears, her totem is the eagle.
In the Snow Elf Pantheon, Auriel is the God of the Sun and Fire, the opening in the sky.
Auriel is the Time Dragon God Akatosh. They are originally one.
Kyne is the Dragon God's wife, the widow of the Serpent God Shor.
Dragon and serpent are irreconcilable.
The conflict between the Nords and the Snow Elves is like the conflict of the Gods.
The two races, once living in peace, fell into an endless enmity after the Night of Tears. The Snow Elves massacred Saarthal, and the man who escaped with his life, named Ysgramor, returned to his ancestral home of Atmora, gathered five hundred companions, and marched south, completely defeating the Snow Elves.
All wars, regardless of their origin, have no commendable aspects.
But war is like the unchanging cycle of the seasons.
The end always returns to rain.
Rain is like tears, frozen hearts turn to ice, piling up the bitter cold of Skyrim.
This endless sorrow is like a footnote to fate... Geleb emerged from the Shrine rising from the terrace. "You succeeded. The Shrine will rise after Visul's death. The betrayers can no longer desecrate the Shrine."
Simon shrugged at him, "No, I don't think the betrayers controlled the Shrine."
"What? What do you mean by that?"
"Visul was a Vampire. He controlled the betrayers, and then the betrayers controlled the Shrine."
"Oh, that makes sense then. Good. It seems the betrayers might still be able to let go of their hatred and return to the glory of Auriel. This matter has always weighed on my mind. Thank you both."
"It's merely mutually beneficial."
"Indeed, I got what I wanted, and you will get what you want." He finished speaking, stepped aside, and opened the door. On a stone pillar inside the Shrine floated a golden recurve bow, about three feet long, enveloped in a faint glow, elegant and extraordinary. This was a weapon of the Gods, once participating in the Divine War, used to strike down Lorkhan and His legions.
Simon turned sideways to enter the Shrine—the door was a bit narrow—took down the longbow and held it in his hand. Instantly, that bright light in his heart flickered, extending little by little, turning into an arrow, standing straight in the tide of his mental power—a mysterious feeling, like a memory in his mind, only upon careful thought did its details prove exceptionally real. Indeed, Simon could sense powerful energy, magic power rapidly surging towards him, but it was absorbed by the Pure Land and the Troll Soul. This signified an advancement in mental power, a miraculous creation.
Serana said in surprise, "That bow, it's breathing!"
Geleb nodded, "Indeed, this friend's Revelation is as bright as the stars, truly extraordinary. He is precisely the master of this divine bow. Auriel's Champion!"
All five walls inside the Shrine transformed into portals, connecting to all other Shrines. The path home was now open.
-------------------------------
I've already uploaded 70 chapters of this story on Patreon!
If you enjoy it, come check out the latest chapters in advance.
Here's the link:
[patreon.com/Greyhounds]
Thank you so much for your support!!
"And If you're enjoying it, drop a Power Stone for me!"
