9: Past Sins

The road to the Imperial City would have been short, and would have taken me closer to Jauffre, but I instead headed for Cheydinhal. I hadn't been there in the last 4 years, and I wanted to find out how it had changed over the years. The road was longer than the one leading to the Imperial City, but more familiar. It reminded me of my home in Valenwood that I had been living in before the accident that led to my imprisonment. That is for another time though.

The road wound up into the mountains a short way, but leveled out quickly, giving me a beautiful view of a Doomstone and a small lake. It was so impressive that I decided i should rest for a while and take a swim. My pack WAS getting rather heavy, and it WAS pretty warm out. So I think i deserved a break. I set my pack down on the beach and pulled off my robes. I left my mace with my pack, because who wants to swim with a huge chunk of metal attached to their hip? Nevertheless, I strapped the knife i had found on the necromancer to my waist for anti-mudcrab or slaughterfish purposes.

The swim was very relaxing, and I only had to deal with one slaughterfish. I swam for a short while, then pulled myself out and dried off with a pair of pants I had found earlier. I slipped back into my robes and set off for Cheydinhal once again.

Upon arriving in Cheydinhal, I made straight for the local smith. It was not the same one I remembered from my last visit, but it would do. I sold off the armor and excess weaponry I had found, and bought a lovely steel axe to replace my mace. It had been chipped in a few places, and I liked the balance of this axe better anyway. Having finished my business at the smith, I stepped out into the sun to plan my next move. After a moment, I decided that I had nowhere to go other than the mage’s guild, but I dreaded going there. Surely they had heard of my accident and would never accept me!

The accident that led to my imprisonment is not something I like to recall, but I will anyway. It had happened a few years ago, back when I was living in Valenwood. I had been experimenting in the magical field of conjuration, which is dangerous enough under guild supervision, but I was doing it ALONE. Back then I had been quite the conjurer, and had advanced quickly though the guild ranks. Soon I was master of the field, but my mind craved more. I had a natural talent for conjuration, and I was not going to let it go to waste. I began attempting riskier and riskier spells, summoning forth great Frost Monarchs, Daedroths and even a few Dremora Valkynaz. I was successful in every spell, and yet always craved more. I even thought of turning to Daedra worship at one point! Eventually, I had nothing left I could summon. I had summoned hundreds of Daedra, and many had applauded when I had finally brought them through. The only lesser Daedra I had yet to summon was a Dremora Fedynaz. The Princes of the Dremora, they were hardly “lesser” Daedra, and were incredibly hard to conjure. The thought of conjuring one of these tormented me for months! I would not consider myself a true Master of Conjuration until I had brought one through. I was so foolish.

I prepared for weeks. It became my obsession, and I would not let it slip through my fingers! I prepared spells of protection, as well as worked on a spell to bring forth the Fedynaz. It took many moons, but finally I had prepared a spell to bring one through. On the night I first attempted to summon the Fedynaz, everything was fine. The wind was a bit strong, but no storms were on their way. I applied my protective spells, and began to work. The spell took a while to complete, but it was less draining on my magicka reserve than I had thought it would be. As I finished the spell, a small rift appeared at the designated spot. From it grew a Dremora, and it was huge, larger than any I had seen before. It stood before me, and seemed to smell the air. Then it shook its head at me, pointed an armor clad finger at the hour glass on my shelf, and disappeared. I screamed at it to come back, but it did not return. I sighed, and started to ponder what the Fedynaz had meant with its cryptic gesture. I quickly came to an answer, he wanted more time. I did not stop to think WHY he would want more time, but instead began work on a more powerful spell. I should have stopped then! I had succeeded in bringing one through! Wasn’t that enough? No, I kept trying.

When I had finished the more powerful spell, I set up for my next attempt. This time I felt significantly drained by the spell, and fell to one knee as the gateway opened. It was truly a gateway, larger than I imagined it would be. It was about seven feet tall and in the shape of the Daedric letter “Oht.” From it stepped the Fedynaz, as well as seven other large Dremora! The Fedynaz laughed at me, and as his foot connected with my head, I realized what I had done. I had opened a portal to the plane of Oblivion! Not just a gateway that would dissipate after the creature was through, but a portal that would allow many Daedra out of their hellish plane of existence. I tried to cast spells to return the creatures to Oblivion, but my magicka was too drained. In fact, I felt as though I was constantly being drained of energy. There was nothing I could do to stop them! A single Dremora came up to me and tied me up with a length of harrada root. The sharp blades cut into me as I struggled to escape. The Fedynaz laughed once again, and then the eight of them smashed out of my house.

I was stuck in that room for five days. I was forced to watch Daedra slowly trickle through my house and out to terrorize the world! I cried several times. I had done something unspeakably horrible! The entirety of Valenwood was now in danger! I hoped that the guards would be able to push back the Daedra, but I had no idea when they would come. Finally, on the fifth night, I realized what I had to do. The gate was using ME as an anchor! Slowly draining away my magicka and using it to fuel the portal! I wracked my mind until I remembered something I had learned from a Battlemage. He had told me that a wizard’s spells will be stopped if the wizard is incapacitated or killed. I knew then what I had to do, and I didn’t like it. I was eventually able to bash my head against the wall hard enough to knock myself out, and when I woke up hours later, I was shocked at the devastation. I was awakened by an imperial legion soldier, and when I told them my story I was immediately arrested and carried away to the Imperial City Prison.

I found out later that the Legion had been able to hold the Daedra off, but had sustained massive losses. My house was totally destroyed, and so were my magical abilities. I found I was unable to conjure anything greater than a Scamp, and my magicka reserve had been damaged by severing the ties to the portal. The year or so I spent in the Prison only weakened my magical abilities further, and by the time I escaped I was barely worthy of being called a novice.

Now I wondered if the Mage’s guild would have forgotten about my past. I sighed, and decided that it was at least worth trying to re-join. But first, I decided to ask for forgiveness at the chapel, and headed across the small covered bridge to pray.