Serene of Cyrodiil, Chapter 8, Love and Death Options

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So at last chapter 8 will be revealed after a very long time. But first I will present an Interlude... Enjoy!

Ald’ruhn, Very late evening of 11th of Sun’s Dusk 3E 451

20 Years after the Events at Red Mountain and the disappearance of the Blight

I shut the door silently behind me. My heart is pounding and I am panting heavily from having run as fast as I could from the Square, I wanted to get home as quick as possible, before anyone noticed I had been out.

This is strange behavior for the Archmaster of a Great House I know, but things happened today that affect me tremendously.

It started this morning at dusk when Kausha, my maid, told me that Athynae currently is in residence at Bal Isra, with Baria and Trey! And she had been there for at least two weeks...without even tell me! Kausha said she heard it from Cai, who she had met at the Mage’s Guild last night. Naturally I was upset; my daughter, being away for quite some time on some sort of mission, then she returned and did not even bother to tell me. That was unacceptable behavior and I was determined to let her answer to me for that. Athyn had been worried all the time and he still is, I know that.

But the real shock came tonight. I went out for a walk an hour ago and reaching the Plaza I overheard a conversation between the two most important men in my life; Athyn and Sethyas.

I now wish I had stayed in tonight, because what I heard is written in fiery letters inside my head; I need to write it down in my current journal, and I will, but not just now, I can’t!

Now I need to do something I should have done years ago really, but there has never been a good time to do it. I must give Athynae my first journal, the one I wrote 15 years ago but never gave to her because…well I don’t really know why, it just never felt right to do it.

But now is the time, so I take the old worn book from the bottom of my personal chest, wrap it in a red piece of cloth and put it in my backpack.

The road to Bal Isra is dark as usual; I know it’s not safe to walk that road during the night, but there is no turning back from this; it has to be done immediately, otherwise I again will find a reason not to give it to her…

I see the flickering lights from Bal Isra as I approach; Hetman Guls is as always guarding the gates.

“Why, archmaster! What brings you here at this unsacred time?”

I put my hand over his mouth “Shhh, please, I just need to leave something here,” I say hesitantly, feeling very awkward. Well trained guard that he is, Hetman just nods at me. What he is thinking I can only guess!

I open the door very slowly; my hands are trembling as I take the book out and silently place it on the small table beside the door and then shut the door behind me.

The way back is even darker; I can barely see my feet in front of me. Of course my sight is clouded by the tears that run down my face.

I close the doors of Sarethi Manor after me for the second time this evening and head straight for my bedroom. My head is empty and numb; I am no better that a scared child, sneaking in and just leaving the journal for Athynae to find! The right thing would of course have been to read it with her and be there to answer her questions…because there will be questions!

And Athynae does not know what I just found out! When I think of it I start tremble again and I just fling myself on the bed and fall into a deep, dark sleep…

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I woke up with a cry, alone, the narrow bed was still damp from cold sweat. The horrid picture in the dream that made me awake was still before my eyes; Ilmeni Velas, lying in a pool of her own blood, with that astonished look in her face.

And it was my fault.

The realization of this made me cower and whine. I didn’t shed any tears; I was an empty shell, a black hole. A murderess.

“Renie, my love, stop it. Look at me, now! You must get up; come, let me help you.” Athyn more or less scooped me up in his arms and put me on my feet. I swayed; I didn’t open my eyes; I wasn’t ready to see the world yet. Question was if I ever wanted to see anything again.

I wanted to die. I didn’t deserve to be alive, when Ilmeni wasn’t. She was a good person, she never hurt anyone, she never shed anyone’s blood, and she was the incarnation of goodness.

And I caused her death.

Athyn wrapped the robe tighter around me and led me out of the chamber. I still kept my eyes closed.

“Now look here, my love; you may take a bath and I brought some clothes for you as well.”

I finally opened my eyes and found that Athyn had brought me to a small bathroom, where a hot bath was waiting for me. I was somewhat stunned; did Morag Tong assassins wash themselves?

A hot bath made me feel no better, but I could at least stand upright. Athyn was waiting outside the bathroom, handing me my ceremonial robe.

Athyn led me to a chamber I wouldn’t have found on my own, so many passages and winding corridors we passed before we finally arrived. The room was small but well equipped. It looked like an office of some high potentate. And it was. The elderly Dunmer who welcomed us had an aura of sheer power. He presented himself as Eno Hlaalu, the Grandmaster of Morag Tong. Apart from him there was only Sanvyn Llethri present.

“I assume you want some information, Archmaster.” Eno Hlaalu’s voice was dark and low, but the mer emanated so much power that the very air around him was affected.

I nodded; I didn’t trust my voice because of my difficulty breathing.

“Well, a Writ arrived this morning, a Writ for Orvas Dren, issued by the Duke himself. Sethyas has gone to execute it. I told the Temple authorities that this was a matter of Mephala’s; no one will dare rob him of his revenge. I thought you ought to know about it, Archmaster.” Eno pleaded

I still was unable to speak. So Seth was now out avenging his late wife. I nodded. It was inevitable, it had to happen, he needed to do it for his peace of mind, if he ever would get it.

“Dren has fled to his Plantation for the time being, but he will depart before this night ends. Sethyas must not let that happen. Mephala demands death,” Eno continued.

May Mephala protect him, oh may he be cautious, let him stay alive.

“It should have been me,” I whispered. “The Writ should have been for me.”

“Nonsense! Orvas Dren killed Ilmeni Velas; there’s no doubt of it.” Eno said dryly.

Athyn embraced me, holding me close.

“Do not accuse yourself, Serene, please. There was nothing you could have done.”

But there was. I knew it and Athyn knew it, but worst of all; Sethyas knew it, and that made my heart bleed.

“I will also inform you, Archmaster, that Sanvyn Llethri here has just joined the Morag Tong, and he’s going to get his first assignment tonight.” Eno interrupted my dark thoughts

I gasped and Sanvyn rushed to my side, taking my hand.

“It’s for you Sera; I want to increase my skills so I can protect you better. Besides, I want to follow in Sethyas’ footsteps.” Sanvyn pleaded. “Isn’t that right Serjo Sarethi?”

Athyn nodded.

It was high time to go home. I constantly shivered from cold even though it was rather warm in Eno Hlaalu’s chambers. The easiest way would have been the use of an Intervention spell, but I could not gather enough magica to cast one, especially not involving three persons, so we traveled the normal way, by gondola and Silt Strider.

I found it strange that I had not yet shed a tear for Ilmeni. I felt her loss deeply, but the tears did not come. Perhaps I had run out of them. Perhaps not. Or perhaps they would come at her funerary rites, which would be within three week’s time. As her friend and as Redoran Archmaster, I was expected to be there in the main procession.

If that would be possible. Could I take part in the procession? Could I even be at the funeral? I, who caused her death? My mind was full of doubt, of emptiness.

I lay in bed for three days after our homecoming, physically sick out of remorse and depression.

I did not see Sethyas during the time prior to the funeral; I had no idea where he was, and I didn’t want to know. I couldn’t bear to see him; he had lost two of the most important women in his life, first his sister, and now his wife. Was Mephala or some other entity determined to ensure that he never had any measure of happiness? Besides, the woman he turned to in his grief was the one who caused him the worst pain…Me!



The day of Ilmeni’s funeral I arose early, after a night filled with nightmares and lack of sleep. I looked awful; I was skinnier than ever; my hair was dull and sad and I was constantly cold. I had to put on a lot of extra clothing under my dark red ceremonial robe, just to fill it out.

We arrived at the Dren Ancestral Tomb together with the entire Redoran Council. The Hlaalu Nobles greeted us with courtesy; a day like today the war hammers were buried; we all shared the sad moments. A bit offside I noticed two Bards with lutes, unrecognizable due to their hoods covering their faces. There was something familiar about them though…

Vedam Dren’s eyes were raw with tears and grief. He beheld Sethyas with a sad countenance as he arrived off of a small rowboat. He took him in with a fierce embrace, and shook with grief as he cried once more.

“The greatest sorrow is when a parent must bury his child. I had hoped for reconciliation with Orvas; that as my brother, he might eventually see the light. I know you felt that too, and that is why he lived until the night you avenged my daughter. How was his death?” The Duke asked Seth with a broken voice.

“His death was as his life, brutal. I believe I sent him into the next world with some idea of the pain he caused in this one.” Sethyas retorted calmly

“Thank you for that. But the time has come to bury two members of the Dren Family. And I feel the loss is more than most can stand. I confess, that I had considered suicide. But I must be strong to lead our people, Sethyas. And for Ilmeni. She wouldn’t have wanted that. She wouldn’t even have wanted revenge, but Orvas had gone too far, was too much of a threat. I pray that the Tribunal forgives me…” The Duke said as the small gathering of the Dren Family and priests carried the remains of both Orvas and Ilmeni into the Ancestral tomb.

As the procession approached the Tomb, I heard the faint sound of lutes, and the tune they were performing made me shiver; it was the song Athyn once sang for me, so beautiful and sad:

What a wondrous love it is
To bind two souls in faith,
Chained completely together
With never a false word,
Weal and woe, wish and real,
Woven each together
From first kiss to last breath,
First and last, whispered in love

Then, at last the tears came, like a waterfall they flowed down my face; I swayed but Athyn held his arm around my waist, or I would have fallen to the ground.

The Tomb’s doors opened. The torchlight flickered in the rancid air of the resting place, and the undead guardians of the tomb let the family pass through without a quarrel, sensing the kinship. Ilmeni lay with her uncle, in coffins that over time would be reduced to ash.

Then I recognized the Bards. With their hoods down out of courtesy to the dead, their faces were revealed; Tredyn Venim, outcast son of Bolvyn, who had joined House Hlaalu and now was in the Duke’s service. Beside him was Delyna Mandas, daughter of Arethan, a Redoran noble! The couple seemed to know each other extremely well. It made me feel just a little bit better.

We departed outside, and the wake lasted several hours. People spoke of fond memories of Ilmeni. The Arvels, friends of the family, where there; and a similar scattering of Slaver nobles and abolitionist offspring also attended.

Sethyas spoke with many of the attendees, making mention of the funerary rites, and sharing some of his memories of her- the way she laughed, the way she looked at him sometimes. The Duke was by his side, merely to seek comfort, for he remained mostly silent.

I watched from the side. This was his moment, and I wouldn’t interfere. I, too, had memories of Ilmeni; she saved my life after dueling Bolvyn Venim, she and Seth. And I couldn’t save her in return!

I noticed that Sethyas shed just a few tears when he was speaking with the Duke. He was keeping his pain to himself, like a true Assassin. This made me feel even worse than before; I leaned towards Athyn and cried silently. Dark thoughts swirled through my tormented mind:

I do not deserve to live. I need to end this painful life.

A hand was on my shoulder, a hard grip, almost painful;

That for sure won’t make anything better. Cry for me instead; you’re far better at it than I am.

I looked up, but his face was empty and closed, only the reddened eyes showed his unspeakable pain.

The moment lasted a few seconds, then Athyn took his hands and said something. I didn’t hear.

“….get back to Ald’ruhn, right dearest?

I don’t remember anything from the journey back. But what I do remember is the blue vial Athyn forced me to drink when we came home. The content was unknown to me but the effect was astonishing.