Ch.26

"We'll need to hurry." Elestra tried to shake the daedric prince awake‌—without waking him. "We should start heading back to the tower as soon as possible."

The creature stirred, but still remained silent. Then, he sighed and lifted himself slowly, finally looking around with bloodshot eyes.

"Are we back in the tower?" he asked, squinting at the huge walls surrounding them.

Elestra nodded. "Yes." She pointed past the gates. "They're closed."

The daedric prince grunted softly. Then, he reached out, grabbing his cloak. Then, he let out a sharp laugh. "You couldn't have picked a more obvious location? I'm glad I don't know your plan."

Elestra scowled, taking the cloak and holding it out to him. "What are you talking about? Why are you doing this? You came to save us‌—no matter what it took."

He laughed again, but he seemed lost in thought, staring at her. Then he finally stood up, his gaze beginning to focus, and he grabbed her hand. "Your name is Elestra, isn't it?"

Elestra nodded, breathing slowly through her nose. She felt herself shaking with confusion‌—she had no idea why the daedric prince would be helping them. And that wasn't even the bigger issue‌—the question of why he would ever help them at all.

"I'd ask you where the others are, but you just told me that none of the others can open the book. So the only one who could explain matters clearly would have to be Evander himself," he muttered, looking around.

She was sure the daedric prince knew everything‌—about how the others were not as they appeared to be .‌.‌. and he did so without hesitation, without fear. He didn't care that she had been the one to kill them‌—he knew she wouldn't say a word to anyone else.

And the fact that he was offering to help them‌—just like this‌—only made things more complicated.

If the daedric prince truly didn't want any secrets between them‌—and if he truly wanted to save thousands from harm tomorrow‌—then he could have killed Elaric and the others back in the council hall, rather than saving their lives.

That's what she would've done if she knew he was a daedric prince, had seen him for what he really was. But then again, maybe he'd known. Maybe he'd been waiting for her to realize the truth about them all along.

So why is he helping us now?

Maybe he needed an escape plan .‌.‌. or maybe he could figure out how to use the book. Maybe the book could change his fate‌—if he used it to survive the coming dawn.

But even so .‌.‌. she didn't understand why he'd help them .‌.‌. until her eyes fell on the book.

Elestra bit down hard, wishing she hadn't spoken those words aloud. Then again, if she hadn't been willing to put her trust in the daedric prince .‌.‌. if she hadn't believed he wanted to save Evander in the end .‌.‌. she might have tried to get the others to help them in another way. She had no idea if there was time‌—but she also didn't believe that the daedric prince wanted to kill anyone, even the other council members. And he wanted to stop the prophecy‌—at any cost.

Which meant .‌.‌. if the prophecy truly did exist‌—it probably said the daedric prince would die in the end, too. Maybe Evander could help him live through the rest of his days .‌.‌. if he only gave them the book first.

She reached up, lifting the book, and felt the strange power still running through it. The daedric prince moved toward her, grabbing hold of the book once again, only this time, she held out both hands. He rested the book on top of her palms‌—and together, they brought their faces closer, staring directly into each other's eyes.

"You don't know who you are." The daedric prince breathed, in a deep voice like thunder‌. "But I do."

Elestra knew it was true‌—she couldn't remember anything about herself before she came to Val Royeaux. But she was certain that this was the same person, the same soul that she'd been following for years .‌.‌. because the daedric prince had seen her, and he knew what she looked like.

The next question, then, became: Why did he help us? Why not leave with Evander?

It's possible .‌.‌. maybe even likely .‌.‌. that the daedric prince is doing this‌—all of this‌—because he wants to stop the prophecy from coming true‌—even if that means losing himself in the process.

But that didn't make any sense .‌.‌. if he needed an escape plan‌—and if he could figure out how to use the book. The only other answer was that the daedric prince was a liar.

I could end him now, if I wanted to .‌.‌. and if he's lying to me right now .‌.‌.

She closed her eyes, thinking on what the daedric prince had said about himself. Who was he then‌? How was he connected to Evander‌—or to Fir?

And what about the other people in the village‌? What about Elaric?

It doesn't matter. He's still my friend.

With that, Elestra put all her doubt away.

Just then, she heard another horn blowing in the distance. Then, she felt a chill run down her spine and her heart began to pound wildly inside her chest as she realized what was happening.

***

Fir jumped up from the ground, grabbing the witch by the arm and forcing her to turn around‌—forcing them both to see what had just come over the walls. The entire village was already awake‌—and they were all running toward the gates in response to the siren call. They had a better chance now‌—of breaking free‌—than they would have when the dawn arrived.

Even so, the daedric prince stood there for a moment, frozen in place .‌.‌. staring at the people as they ran toward the gates, through the ash that covered everything. And then, after a pause, he spoke softly. "Go back to your hut. Leave me."

"Are you sure?" asked the old woman in a voice that seemed to carry all across the village‌—a voice filled with concern and dread.

He nodded. Then, Fir held the witch tightly, kissing her hand. "Don't worry about me, Ophiel .‌.‌."

Her eyes met his, filled with sorrow and disbelief. "You're going to fight them?"

Fir grinned at her, moving away from her and gazing past the gates again‌—taking one last look before turning around‌—and putting one foot inside the ring of ash. Then, he spun around, taking the book in hand and rushing off to face the others who'd come to stop him.

Elaric put on a brave expression as the young man disappeared into the ash‌—but Elestra knew what it meant. She could hear the sword screaming in the back of her mind .‌.‌. she could see the sparks flying between the blade and the blood-red moon hanging high above‌—and then she could sense the ash burning to a crisp beneath the sword as the daedric prince came to meet Evander.

Elaric turned to the witch. "Get to the tower, Ophiel."

"The tower?" The witch gasped, but then, she shot to her feet, grabbed his arm, and pulled him close to her‌—too afraid to stay behind to fight.

"The tower!‌" Elestra called to her‌—grabbing the witch's other hand in order to pull her along as well.