Oblivion's Shadow

VII. The Break of Dawn

Now all the ghosts turned toward the entrance; locating the intruders, they charged with drawn swords. Macayla, Karliah, and Brynjolf rushed out to meet them. She quickly shot down two ghosts and brought Malkoran into sight, who had a hand glowing with healing light. Just as she turned her aim on him, the Necromancer saw her and threw the other hand out at her, sending a flurry of ice.

Power suddenly swelled inside of her—Macayla recognized Nocturnal's presence. Controlled by the Daedric Lord, Macayla stepped back, vanishing into the shadows grouped behind her. She re-appeared through the shadows on the other side of the room. The wall behind her where she had been standing had been struck by the Frostbite spell—the wall was blue and had ice stuck on it.

She aimed at Malkoran again, who was turning his attention on the fighting Brynjolf or Karliah. This time, her arrow drove through his head, killing him instantly.

The room fell quiet and the Nord and Dunmer came into view. Her husband looked at the ice-encased wall, then to her.

"How did you do that?"

"It was Nocturnal; the shadows are hers so they shield her."

Brynjolf began to say something else, but Malkoran's body suddenly moving cut him off. A dark specter rose up out of his back, nothing but a black skeleton in tatters and red eyes—it held a staff of destruction, though.

It immediately shot out a fireball at their feet—Macayla jumped back into the shadows to appear a safe distance away; Brynjolf and Karliah were blown back. She saw Malkoran's ghost charge up the staff again for another blast at a still dazed Brynjolf. Her heart stopped—he wouldn't be able to get away; he would be burned.

Nocturnal reacted again. Macayla felt weightless as she soared across the distance in the shadows, grabbed him, and pulled him with her into the darkness. Heat singed their arms before they appeared at another spot.

Malkoran's ghost now flew around the room, firing off fireballs at the quick Karliah as she shot at him and ducked behind columns. Macayla added her missiles as she ran in to help and dropping into the shadows when the specter turned on her.

The fight continued with the women firing at it, Brynjolf slashing at it when it flew around a column, which he slipped around to hide, and Macayla slipping in and out of the shadows to rescue the others. Still, the thing didn't slow from all the attacks.

She grew frustrated at this—Nocturnal was fed up, too. Her chest grew hot—the Skeleton Key. Macayla reached into the pocket to grab it and stepped into view of Malkoran's ghost. She pointed the Key at it and the power she felt in her chest transferred into the Skeleton Key. It responded by heating up even more and a dark energy of black, blue, and purple shot out at the specter.

Malkoran's ghost jolted as the power struck it in the back, then disintegrated into a pile of ash.

After it disappeared, nothing made a sound—no one much less breathed.

"He's truly dead now, right?" Brynjolf asked.

"Yeah, I think so," Macayla said as she stored the now cooled Skeleton Key in her breast pocket.

"It is done; Malkoran is defeated," Meridia's voice suddenly boomed around them. "Take the Dawnbreaker from its pedestal."

They turned toward the dais to realize the glowing object was a sword absorbing and reflecting the light hitting it. Macayla could feel the power radiating from it, a righteous supremacy—she wanted to shy away from it... at least Nocturnal did.

Brynjolf ascended the dais to it then pulled the sword out of its pedestal. Immediately, they felt weightless again as Meridia pulled them out of her temple and up in the air, where her glowing ball of light waited.

"Malkoran is vanquished. Skyrim's dead shall remain at rest. This is as it should be; this is because of you three."

She turned toward Brynjolf. "Take the mighty Dawnbreaker and with it purge corruption from the dark corners of the world. Wield it in my name, that my influence may grow. May the light of certitude guide your efforts."

"We're not using it to spread your religion," Nocturnal spat. "You know why we're here."

Meridia's light flickered with irritation. "Yes, I remember; you do not need to lecture me, Nocturnal. But neither will you be able to wield it without others knowing who's favor you have won. My religion will spread with or without your assistance."

She looked back at Brynjolf and included Karliah, too. "That dark one may dim your light, but let it keep burning. May you succeed in your quest and find no loss at the end."

The trio descended again; when their feet touched the ground, Meridia's beacon came to rest in its pedestal.

Brynjolf considered the sword in his hand—Dawnbreaker seemed to shine on its own, emitting the light captured in the hilt. He had grabbed its scabbard in the final chamber before Meridia pulled them out and now attached it to his hip, then sheathed it.

Meridia's ending remark about her dimming their light infuriated Nocturnal. She wasn't planning on doing anything other than helping these three save their lives and the world—she didn't have an alternative motive. The Daedric prince of infinite energies didn't know her.

"We're going to need more than a little sword," Nocturnal said.

Brynjolf looked at her. "I think it's more than just a sword; hopefully it will help us out, but I think Meridia allowing us to keep it means we have her backing too."

"That's what I hope by us doing this, but they can always prove me wrong."