_{Description: A surviving child of House Dagoth tells of life in a Dwemer city of Skyrim during the War of the First Council. A tale of brotherhood, friendship and broken innocence.}

The Fall of Harmony

by Dagoth-Lorath Falensaryoni

Time is a strange thing, the older you grow, the quickest it seems to flow. Back to this day, in the twelfth year of my early life, seconds felt like hours and hours felt like weeks and days like months. My mother told me to keep quiet but that's quite a hard thing to achieve when you're a child as energic as I was. I looked helplessly at the other child in front of me, an elfling of nine who I called my brother. Our bloodlines were different but we shared the same breast, and also the same golden eyes and copper hair and honey skin. Though, on this last point, his flesh was a shade darker than mine. I always wondered what was the logic in that since his kind spent so much time underground where the sun never shone but through complex paths of mirrors and crystals. I hoped he would look at me but he just sat as still as the brass golem beside him.

"Mzahrk..." I tried to call him mentally.

It took about a week, or maybe just an hour actually, to get an answer from him. He glimpsed at me, a bit annoyed.

"I'm bored, Mzahrk," I told to his mind.

"Why don't you play a game?" his own mind articulated. His kind wasn't great at telepathy, they prefered to use their devices rather than magic. Mzahrk was quite good however, but he had that thick seriousness...

"What game?" I asked him, "I don't like your logic games, there's nothing fun in counting tunes I'm not even hearing! Let's take your golem and go play with it..."

"But we were told to keep quiet, Lorath..."

It took one more week to convince him to accept, and convincing a Dwemer was quite some challenge for sure. So I suddenly got up, grabbed his hand and we ran away from my mother and her demands that we came back, the golem rolling by our side. Finding an empty hall wasn't so easy, the place wasn't as crowded as usual but there were still quite some white elves. Not that they cared for us, though.

"This way," Mzahrk led me through a gate I had never crossed until then. We got out of the building and I gasped at the stunning sight. We were outside but the air was rather hot and wet, thousands of stars were shining above us but not a single one that I knew. Further away I could see the sun but something was very wrong about it, clouds were passing in front of it but behind it as well. It didn't make any sense! Below our feet was a land unlike anything I had ever seen, with golden roads crawling between lakes, giant gemstones and giant mushrooms even more massive than the hugest Emperor parasol trees I had ever seen in Vvardenfell.

"What is this?" I asked in pure amazement.

"The black kingdom," Mzahrk shrugged his shoulders. "What game do you want to play?"

I looked at the large trimless bridges circling down to the ground.

"Tell your golem to curl ingo a ball, I've got an idea."

Reluctantly he did it, suspicious of my plans. I sat on the large round shield, it felt relatively confortable and warm, and told my brother to sit on my crossed legs. He hesitated again but finally obeyed.

"And now, let's fly down this slope on dragon's back!"

"We're not on a dragon, we're on the shield of a sphere animunculi."

"We're on a dragon and it's called Alkosh! Fly down!"

"It can't fly! It's not meant for this use!"

"Come on, Mzahrk! Use your imagination!" I growled. "You just have to replace the elements you see by things you would wish to see. Your amunculi is a golden dragon with powerful wings and it breathes fire, not steam. Can you feel its heat? And that tower over there it's the Adamantine tower, and the other one over there is the White Gold Tower, and the lake is the Sea of Ghosts and the waterfall is the Stream of Souls."

"I've never heard of anything called the Stream of Souls."

"Now you have and we're going to unravel its mysteries!"

Mzahrk gave me a doubtful face but still sent the sphere down the alleyway. We were clinching to the shield, screaming in a thrill of fear and excitation as we whirled down the ground, nearly rolling off the edge once or twice to finally stop on the golden road so brutaly we took flight and landed in the moss and mud on the other side of the road. By chance we weren't hurt save for some bruises and scratches. And the now deplorable look of our clothes, covered in dirt. Mzahrk's first reflex as he got up was to run back to the amunculi to check it wasn't damaged. Of course it was not.

"That was a mad idea!" he screamed at me, furious.

"Sheogorath may agree with you but damn, it was fun!" I gawfled. "We totally flew like dragons!"

"Like arrows you mean? Surely it was nothing as mighty as dragon's flight, rather like a crashing cliffracer at best!"

"Great! Great! You're starting to free your imagination!" I cheered him. "Look, there's a troup of Orcs on our way to the Stream of Souls..."

He looked in the direction I pointed, over a nearby rock.

"There's only one and it's just a Falmer girl."

"Ssh, it's a troup of Orcs! Let's rain arrows down them!" I stammered, taking some pebbles and sneaking ahead.

When the Falmer set her white blue eyes on us I started screaming, throwing my pebbles at her.

"Back off, crap spawn! Back off!" I roared.

"Let's free Skyrim of the half-wits!" Mzahrk echoed.

The Falmer was so puzzled by our behavior that she stood still for some seconds, until one of my pebbles notched her cheek. Then she frowned.

"Shout them down, Mzahrk!"

"I can't do that, Lorath! I'm not a Nord!"

"Yes, you can! I'm Lorkhan and I make you a Tongue!"

Mzahrk stopped an instant to figure out the reliability of such a theory before spating out "that's non-sense!"

I turned to the Falmer girl. She was some years older than me and I had to admit she looked rather nice with her ivory skin and wild hair. We weren't allowed to play with the slaves but since we would surely be punished for our stupid deeds so far, one more broken rule wouldn't make a big difference in my opinion.

"Well, let's ask Kyne how she'd settle this. Would you grant the great Lord Mzahrk the power of the Voice?" I asked her.

She hesitated then stepped closer, carefully.

"If I'm Kyne and if you're Lorkhan, it means you're also Shor, and you're my husband then," she said in a soft crystaline voice.

We were impressed by her knowledge, for a slave she must have overheard a lot. We hadn't figured out how diehard was the oral tradition of myths among the snow elves. I blushed a little, trying to keep the upper hand.

"No, I'm not your husband because it's the Dawn Era and all the aspects of gods walk on Tamriel!"

Ha! I wasn't totally sure of the meaning of this but it was the smartest escape I could find. I wondered if my theologist mother would be proud of me and grinned fiercely as the girl tried to find something to say.

"Alright, then I'm also the Great Matron, Urdifrykte, the goddess of Eternal Cold and in spite of the Voice I propose you to freeze your lifespan so you will never age. What do you say, Lord Mzahrk?"

"Urdifrykte doesn't exist."

"She does and she's a goddess in a layer of Dawn that hasn't fell on Tamriel yet."

I looked at Mzahrk. I was both more and more impressed and more and more uneasy. For the first time I could see a smile on a Falmer's lips and it was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. But suddenly she startled and in the next second we heard the familar voice of Mzahrk's father.

"Serjo Dagoth-Lorath Falensaryoni," he called me, "Kena Dagoth-Venesi Falensaryoni has been searching for you. And you, Apprentice Mzahrk Nchuand, did I just hear you talking to a slave?"

Mzahrk agreed politely. "You heard as precisely as the clock ticks, Master Kerem. I apologize for my disobediance..."

It was rare to see Chimers like me and my mother befriending this much with Dwemers. Yet our House counted many crafters of all kind and valued strongly loyalty and honesty. Kenas like my mother were rather few. We were simple people for many of us, efficient and precise workers like the insect of our crest. United and diehard. It was thus easier for us to concede admiration to the wonders crafted by the Dwemer ingeniors. Our ways and beliefs were different but technicity offered a common field to walk together in peace. Hence, when I heard Mzahrk taking all the blame for himself I had to stand by his side.

"I am guilty in the first place, Master Kerem, it was my idea to run away, and my idea again to play with this Falmer girl."

"Can you explain how such a twisted idea came through your brains, serjo?"

For some reason I felt defiant and stared politely at Master Kerem to answer with a smirk: "She's a slave but still an elf, and a witted one."

Master Kerem kept a blank face, analyzing the situation. "This is not exact actually, she looks like an elf but she's a half-race of mengled blood. Like those Western men descended from the Nedes and the Bosmer. See how pale her skin has become? See how fair her eyes are? She's a living proof that Nords sinned with elves in their barbaric traditions of raping the surrending females. And men are too ignorant to play with tunes they don't know. If we don't keep the blood and souls straight it will only be more work in tonal composition."

"But you love to discover new tunes and songs!" I teased.

"You should not talk of matters you don't know, serjo. This discussion is over and I'm bringing you to your mother."

As he turned on his heels I flipped to the Falmer girl.

"What's your name?" I hurried in a low voice.

"Iefrah..." she answered like she hardly believed it.

I waved my hand at her and ran back after the Dwemer. Though I knew I would be punished I couldn't care less, everything in my mind seemed to dissolve and fade away save for the soft echo of her name. Iefrah... I wished I dared touching her skin. It was said to be slippery and cold as death but I couldn't believe it. It didn't look so, it rather looked normal though very pale, of a nearly transparent white.

I only came back from my thoughts when my mother hold me in her arms. She was scolding me as much as praising the Daedra for sparing my young life.

"It's just some bruises and scratches, I'm fine..."

"Don't you understand that we're not welcome everywhere? Master Kerem is kind enough to allow us to stay in the city, don't risk putting him in a difficult situation... Only Azura may know how the war will end..." her voice went bitter.

Pragmatic Master Kerem... He greeted us and was always friendly, as much as a Dwemer could be. When his wife died giving birth to Mzahrk I was still a baby and my mother offered to share her milk between us. We all became some sort of family but Master Kerem would never act as a father with me. And I appreciated for I already had a father on a battlefield somewhere...

"Do you think serjo Dagoth-Voryn can reconciliate serjo Indoril-Nerevar and King Dumac?" I asked. "...Do you think father will be back soon?"

"I don't know...!" she burried her head in my neck to hide her tears.

I felt a big knot tying my throat, growing bolder and painful as the idea I may never see my father again showed up. When I could not hold it any longer I broke free and ran away again, to the room I shared with Mzahrk. My brother was there and looked at me sheepishly and sorrily.

"The punishment was this hard?" he asked.

I dried my tears and sat on my bed in front of him, defeated.

"I thought of my father... I'm afraid, Mzahrk, I'm very much afraid for him, for Lord Dagoth and Lord Indoril... I don't know what to do nor what we'll do if... ...Damn! This war just can't end in any good way if one side takes over the other! I don't want your people to loose but I don't want my people to die!"

He got up and hugged me. It was something less unusual from a Dwemer raised by a Chimer as if it were her own son. There was still something a little awkward but yet it brought some comfort.

"I'm worried for my people too. I heard the Chimer have come to understand how to aim at the war animunculi to dismantle them. You're still a clever kind of elves..." Mzahrk smiled somehow. "I think I could try to accord myself to the battle tune, I heard father talking of drums and heartbeats."

"It's not dangerous? After all the trouble I already caused you..."

"It's not dangerous, it's more accurate and discreet than any of your telepathy attempts. See... I just need to concentrate on the pace and find the right chord, the right number..."

He closed is eyes for more concentration and soon began to shiver.

"What's going on, Mzahrk?"

"I don't know, it's different... Louder. It's rising, it's coming... I don't know what but there's something... It's sounding like a bell, I wonder if it's the drum father talked about. It feels like it."

"And it's ringing?" I tried to bring up the sound of a bell in my head though I knew what Mzahrk was hearing sounded like nothing I could imagine.

"The pace is broken! It's howling now, it's tearing appart and it's vicious!" he screamed. He opened is eyes in horror with a "No! No!".

Tears were running down his face, I got up and hold him in panick.

"What's going on, Mzahrk!?"

"It's the Heart Song, Lorath! The Call! Something's hap-"

Before he could finish his sentence he vanished and was nowhere to be seen. I screamed his name, I searched for his mind, for anything, howling, begging, raging! But the only voice that answered to me was that of my mother as she rushed in our room, looking very pale. Mzahrk's last words were still echoing in my head and my mind couldn't help but try to figure out their meaning and complete them. For some reason I didn't think he meant to say "something's happening" but... "something's happy". Not that it made more sense. I felt helpless, staring at my mother with mad eyes.

"Where is he!?" I uttered in madness. "Where is Mzahrk!? What's happening, mother!?"

"I don't know...! ...They're all gone, Lorath! They've all vanished!" she cried, unable to keep composed in such a despaired situation.

"You're wrong! It's not possible! It can't be!"

I refused to believe and yet I knew it was true. The city had become silent. We wept for a moment, I don't know for how much time. But when I dried my tears and looked at my mother again we shared a same look of horror. How could things get more wrong?

"Mother! Your eyes! You're bleeding! And your skin...!"

She caught my face to observe it carefully. I glimpsed at my own hand and notice how it had turned to a dark shade of grey like burnt ashes.

"What's happening to us?" she blew in total lack of understanding.

"What's happening to you," a voice said, "is that you're now our slaves."

We turned to the door and saw some Falmers. They smirked.



For days and days I fought against many golems, making my best to deactivate them, but most of all, to survive. They went out of control as soon as the Falmer rebelled against them and it turned into some sort of war between the elves and the machines. I could understand their will to show the end of their domination through the destruction of the animunculi bearing the effigy of the Dwemer but they probably came to regret it now that the whole city turned into a giant trap. As far as I was concerned I wouldn't think much. I lost my best friend and brother, I lost my Chimeri identity, I lost all the people I knew here. I had been seperated from my mother and the snow elves had some cruel pleasure in telling me how they were working to break her mind and turn her into a good, obedient slave. Some of them told me I would see her as soon as her mind broke and my body had grown ...and that we would give birth to the new slave race. No, really, I didn't want to think.

What occured to me during these years is still hold from me in a closed corner of my mind. The only memories I can access are the scars left on me. But I don't wish to recall the pain, the horror, the dispair, all I surely felt to come to look as misarable as I looked when I opened the eyes on that other day. On that day, I saw again and the very memory of what I saw is one I will never forget. Her fair silouhette  was leaning over me, her hands were touching my face wet from the tears droping from her chin.

"Lorath," she called my name.

"Iefrah..."

My voice was trembling. She gasped and hugged my head, her mouth against my ear.

"What have we done...? What's become of you?"

"Why are you crying?"

"I can't stand it anymore! We're not worth better than the Dwemer to treat you like this!"

She kept her voice low. I didn't know the room in which we were, it wasn't really a room actually, rather some sewers. Humid and quite smelly. She was touching my face, stroking my skin like she was modeling the volumes of my cheeks, my eyebrows, my nose, my lips, my chin, my lips...She kissed me and I didn't fight back. I didn't have the strength. Her fingers were running on my body, detailing its every line and curve. I looked at her eyes and saw how the blue had reddened to a violine shade of gray.

"Can you still see, Iefrah?" I whispered.

"Slightly... I see better with my fingers now. We couldn't find the antidote... The Dwemer are gone with the secret of it... I've decided to stop feeding myself with the mushrooms. It was hard the first two weeks but now the fever has stopped. It may get me blind more quickly but I want to leave this place..."

"And for this you need me... To open the doors and lead the way..."

"We can make it outside together, we'll get away from here, far, far away from here... You'll be my eyes, I'll care for you... Please, Lorath... Please..."

"The Nords took the North and false-gods have raised in the East, I know it... I had dreams. We are now called Dunmer and Azura turned us down. Lord Dagoth calls me but I don't have the strength anymore..."

"We'll go South-West until we find peace."

I let out a sigh of relief at the idea. "...And my mother? How is she?"

"I am sorry... I'm so sorry... She summoned some terrible Daedra, some pretend the Prince of Destruction came along... Hard to say with such eyes of ours now, but the energy was strong for sure. The battle raged down there, the buildings were heavily damaged and it took many of us to expell the Daedra back to Oblivion. In the confusion I brought you here... But your mother... she died. And the children... I don't know. It was such a mess I don't even know were they are."

I felt sick and yet I felt nothing, I wanted to vomit but I had nothing to spit out, I wanted to sleep but wouldn't find slumber. It was strange as normal... I was still shocked.

"Do you remember that day when it all happened? When we played?"

"Never could I forget it... You called my name, Lorath, and now I call yours."

"Do you love me?"

"More than I thought I ever could."

I sat more straightly and pressed my lips against hers in an awkward kiss. We kissed and we kissed but it wasn't there that we laid together for the first time. We first had to escape and it all happened like in a dream or maybe a nightmare. We walked on trails of blood in the devasted kingdom. By some chance the sun still shone and we could make our way to an elevator. It took time but finally we were free, leaving the black hell for the white hell of bitter cold. Skyrim, it was called.

For days and weeks we walked in the snow and the wind. Iefrah shivered as much as me, after so much time spent living in the warm underground her race was no longer as resistant to cold as it used to be. Such irony... Through the rocky slopes of mountains and passes we traveled, feeding on snow and roots when we couldn't afford a hunt. We were starving animals and came the day when we couldn't put a foot if front of the other one anymore. The snow had receded so we laid in the dirt in an embrace.

We awoke from the smell of rosted meat and the sound of voices. There were several people around us and they spoke in a language unknown to us, that sounded like growls and meows. Khajiits... It was the first time I saw some for real, all I knew of them were the tales my mother told me about them and their religions and crafts. Those ones were bold beasts standing on both feet for most, while other went on all four and were huge feline creatures with fangs like swords and eyes like suns. Their coats were painted with spots or stripes and went though all the shades of white to gold to red to black.

"Are you well?" one of the Khajiit asked. "This one is S'Rajira," he pointed himself. "What of you?"

We introduced ourselves and tried to explain somehow our story. Part of it. S'Rajira nodded.

"Large things happened, lots of changes. Khajiit went back south for most, so cold here. But S'Rajira and his friends like it here. Khajiit are strong with wondrous fur. But Jakimba is Ohmes-raht, not suited for life here. Jakimba goes south."

If I hadn't been aware that Jakimba was a Khajiit I would have thought him to be some sort of tailed elf, somewhat hairy. Jakimba was kind and talkative though we didn't understand much of what he said as he blended all the languages he knew in a strange mix.

"What does your Alkosh look like?" I asked him.

"Ah, Jakimba wonders too, muthsera... Alkosh is chimiit maybe. Aldmeris tell of dovahka with tall wings but Jakimba tells of cat greater than Senche tiger, with golden fur shining like varla. Alkosh needs no wings to fly, Alkosh jumps for very long time and Alkosh plays with Nirni like ja'khajiit with a ball."

Jakimba was really not easy to understand. Sometimes he said some things that puzzled me as I tried to figure if he was wiser then he seemed or just very inspired. I remember he said that cats have long whiskers to play the harp, and that Khajiits all ring alike in the two-moons dance.
We traveled with him for weeks and months, crossing more mountains and new landscapes of green lands filled with grass and luxurious forests, open blue skies, water streams and lakes. I described all I saw to Iefrah and gave her things to touch and observe when we'd halt. We saw the White Gold Tower from afar as we traveled through the Heartlands. It was there, on a mossy hill in the forest that we could sit together for the first time, feeling well and alive. The strength was back and passion filled our hearts. We laid as one in kisses and cuddling, in a love we so needed and so wished to share as well.

I began to write... We sailed down the Niben to the Topal Bay. And as I finish this book Iefrah is still by my side and life made of our mengled love grows inside of her. She sings on the shores songs of her kind, songs of the ancient time, songs of her namesake, Iefreh, and the sea sings with her. She sees but slightly but she says she hears something beyond the sea. ...I have heard songs too. But not this one. Despite all the horrors I've been through I can't help but wonder... Is there a place for cursed elves such as us beyond the sea? Is there hope for the damned? Well, that's what we'll see.

I am serjo Dagoth-Lorath Falensaryoni. I will leave this book behind us and be gone but hopefully not forgotten.
I want you to remind yourself of a Dwemer child named Mzarhk Nchuand, and his father, Master Kerem Nchuand. I want you to recall that the deep folk were adamant and could be cruel, but just as could be any other race.
I want you to remember the Falmer as a merfolk, noble as elves and fierce as Nords. Where many saw sin in their origins, we should have seen hope of peace. But elves are grievers... May some Dunmer realize the darkness of their minds through the blackness of their skin and turn their red eyes into warm hearts.
I want you to know that though my Lord Dagoth-Voryn is now called Dagoth-Ur, you shall not forget who he once was. Good Lord Dagoth... always true and loyal, fair and wise... May your heart be yours again someday and shall harmony be restored.