Chapter 474: The Visions

Big thanks to @Crazyapes

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Heroism, mainly a form of reverence towards an individual who is celebrated by people for a sort of achievement that extends between military conquests, saving lives, and living by a personal code of honor. Such people would be much appreciated in a time of mayhem and disaster such as the current times in Hammerfell. The rise of the Order of the Black Worm was an opportunity for such heroes to start appearing and bring about peace and order.

Earlier this morning, Governor Kareem gathered a thousand Warrior in the garden of his palace and spoke of what lies in front of him. He gathered them in his garden, offered them food and drink, invited every bard and muse in the isle, and stood on a balcony overlooking the island with Faten beside him and a tall mage in and Ebony plate standing behind him.

"O men, it has been two days since we ended the bitter siege. With your struggle we persisted, and to your honor we drink. Thanks to Master Mage Krilon, who came to us in the hour of need, we lived to see another day.

Thanks to that, I spared no effort and pushed forward for a hasty but satisfying wedding. While I was acting the groom, the good news reached me that you rooted out all the Necromancers in Stros M'kai with Master Krilon.

You are victorious, you deserve the rewards and the rest… but you haven't achieved much. Our trials have just begun."

Kareem picked the sword on his hip and rested it on the baluster of the balcony.

{You are taking the right choice.} The voice of his family's guardian, Prince A'tor, echoed in his head.

Kareem looked forward and saw the men staring at him with wills of steel. He assured himself and proudly spoke.

"Our duty is not over! Stros M'kai may have survived but other places are still fighting. A thousand Hunding Chargers may not be enough to save every part in Hammerfell but let's be a welcome change for the good, for the better, and victory over the dread lords.

If we won and the whole Hammerfell was swallowed by the dead, we achieved no victory. Under that grim pale sky, we achieved no victory.

O men, remember the words of our brightest ancestor, Frandar Hunding; 'Be resolute, fear no sacrifice and surmount every difficulty to win victory'. And this is the way we fight.

Our ships are strong, our arrows are swift, are blades are sharp, our steeds are fast; and as a blessing from Hunding, the [Soul Sword] of Prince A'tor returned to us, we even have a Master Wizard on our side… what more do we need? Tell me what more do we need?"

Kareem spoke to them and every warrior howled raising their swords and shouting with him. Among his chargers, this young Governor was surely popular. For one final motivation, Kareem drew the [Soul Sword] lifting it up.

"Raise our banner high! The times of noble deeds are upon us!"

And the banner of Stros M'kai was raised. It was a sword pointing down and a crown over it all on a circle of swords. This sword is a reference to the [Soul Sword], the crown is a reference to the Crowns faction, and the circle of swords is a reference to the [Book of Circles] written by Frandar Hunding, the most accomplished Sword Master in History.

Jon watched from behind Kareem until he was satisfied with the reaction of the warriors, he felt like going back to Winterhold and going on a few marches and training sessions with his Dare Troopers. Those rascals must be growing fat now that he has been away for almost a year.

Jon walked away and arrived at the corner of the garden where his group was gathered. Beth, previously called little Boethiah, was telling some sort of a story to the others grasping their attention.

"What are you babbling about?" Jon asked.

"She is telling us the story of how you got the name Dare." Mirren said.

"Ah! The good old times." Jon smiled.

Jon was about to join the gathering but he was called.

"Master Krilon."

Looking back, it was Kareem and Faten.

"Governor! Lady Faten! How can I help you?" Jon stood up.

"We would like to thank you again for assisting us three times already. We are looking forward to our cooperation in the next campaign." Faten said.

"You are welcome, my lady." Jon thanked her.

Jon has helped Stros M'kai three times indeed, first with the Siege, then with rooting out the Necromancers, then with getting rid of the gigantic corpse of the Flesh Atronach earlier this morning. He even gifted a suit of armor to Kareem as a gift for his wedding, one of the best joint works between Wulfur's smithing and Jon's enchanting.

"We do not have anything to reward you with Master Krilon so please, accept this gift from my household." Kareem said as four servants came while carrying a large object.

It was a large book gilded cover and a fancy texture with a title saying [The Book of Circles by Frandar Hunding].

"The is the full version of the Book of Circles that was owned by my family's line of Governors since the ages of Tiber Septim and ancestors Cyrus and Iszara. I have heard that Master Krilon is not just a Mage but also a swordsman so I am gifting this hoping it would be of use." Kareem said.

Jon and his group got their eyes open wide after seeing the book, not for its gilded cover of a catchy name but for its true value. For Jon as a collector, he surely has a version of the book of circles but to get the full version. That's a one in a lifetime opportunity.

The Book of Circles was written by Frandar Hunding in order to pass on his life long insights and knowledge. For Redguards, it is an enormous part of their culture and everyday life. Each household in Hammerfell has an alcove by its hearth just big enough to hold a copy of the Book of Circles in honor of Hunding.

Here is the fun part. The book is regarded as the encyclopedia of Swordsmanship as it contains thirty-eight grips, seven hundred and fifty offensive and eighteen hundred defensive positions, and nearly nine thousand moves essential to sword mastery.

Jon walked over to the book and smiled not waiting to carry it.

"This version was copied by Cyrus himself among many other copies. One of them was gifted to Tiber Septim and another was kept here. It was a tradition that every Governor who rules Stros M'kai would make a copy by his own hand to prove the willpower of leadership." Kareem said.

"It is priceless." Jon said.

"Well, it is supposed to be priceless but no one really was able to open it…" Kareem started explaining something but Jon paid no heed.

He was excited for such a rare thing to be added in his collection so he extended his hands about to touch the cover but as soon as he did, everything around him darkened.

It was pitch-black, cold and bone shivering.

Jon looked around him as he felt an unfathomable presence gaze down at him.

He felt weak… weak like an insect.

It was all too sudden, Jon Dare who never knew fear felt his soul shaking and his cold sweat making everything on him wet.

It was dark but all of a sudden… fire! Fire was everywhere.

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The whole darkness was burning and he felt more fear than before as if this flame will consume him Firemane or not.

His throat became dry from the heat of the fires but his sweat was still cold.

Then it appeared. It showed its face to him. From the darkness, a colossal creature emerged swaggering in its red scales, in its strong body, in its overbearing aura.

A Dragon.

The Dragon looked down on Jon. Jon felt weak for the first time in years. Helpless, fearful, pressured… but he didn't panic.

He looked up at the dragon eye to eye and as if the latter was saying "How Dare you look at me?", Jon became blinded with anger. It was then when he let loose of his frightening Tyrannical Aura.

*Shatter*

And the whole darkness shattered.

There was no darkness, no fires, no dragon.

It was just Jon in the Garden of the Palace with everything around him as it was. The only difference is, he was the center of all attention for some reason.

He looked around as the others were eyeing him with strange eyes but not exactly him, it was his direction. But no one is around him.

"Wow, did you feel that?" Faten was the first to speak.

"Yes." Kareem nodded, "For a second, it felt like we were back at the final hour of the siege all over again."

Jon looked around him and felt the strange phenomenon, all were speaking about something as if they were back in some sort of a fight or something.

It took them a few seconds after they realized it was just their imagination.

"Anyway, I was saying that no one could open this book. They say its cover was crafted from the scales of the Dragon that Cyrus slew under this very palace…"

"Nafaalilargus." Jon muttered.

"Yes, that's the name of the Dragon. The important thing is…" Kareem tried to continue his fervent speech but Faten cut in.

"Kareem."

"Yes."

"Look."

She pointed towards Jon's hand where he was touching the book. Both Jon and Kareem, as well as the ones around, looked to see that Jon has already opened the cover which was known that no one has ever opened it.

Kareem's jaw dropped.

For eight centuries, this book was never opened and those who tried to open it were all left with trauma for days until they forgot about it. It was a treasure and an item of legacy but it also was foretold that the ones who open that book are the ones who are acknowledged by it.

It was a shock for Kareem as his ancestors had already given up about the book and considered it something akin to a sword stuck in stone but no one actually did it… until someone did it.

Jon, on the other hand, was taken aback by the book itself. Its cover was made of the scales of Nafaalilargus, the Imperial Dragon of Tiber Septim.

Nafaalilargus, whose real name is Nahfahlaar, was was a red dragon who often allied with mortals for his own protection such as King Casimir II, the Dragonguard on two different occasions, and lastly Emperor Tiber Septim when Nafaalilargus started working as a mercenary dragon in the employ of Tiber Septim during the conquest of Tamriel.

Nafaalilargus was a proud soldier and a loyal vassal, causing him to be considered "a jewel of the Imperial crown". He is the very same dragon that is decorating the symbol of the mightiest Empire in the World.

Nafaalilargus was killed by Cyrus eight centuries ago but as no Dragonborn was its slayer, Nafaalilargus is not really dead.

Jon felt like his second (technically third) visit to Hammerfell was becoming more thrilling than he had ever thought. A book of Swordsmanship covered by the scales of a Dragon, now that manly book felt like something that can buff anyone with Testosterone to the point where Mirren may actually grow chest hair.

Jon accepted the gift knowing this will add some more fun twists to his Fate.

***

Later that day, the ships of Port Hunding were packed with a thousand charger and their horses.

Jon was on the Flagship of the Governor of Stros M'kai reading from the first pages of [Cyrus' Book of Circles]. Enthralled by the refined text and the original insights of Frandar Hunding while feeling the texture of the Dragonscale over the cover, Jon felt like reading the best book ever.

This book was big. Not just in size but its content was written in a very small text to just to fit the whole insights in. It is said that the Way of the Sword, the Art of Sword-Singing was lost after the Redguard abandoned this book. It returned back overtime but Jon wasn't interested in the concept of the Sword-Singing in general but rather the Archetype of the Swordsman.

He read and read without realizing the time. He also didn't realize that his hunger for power grew another fold.

Lately, Jon was stuck in the Early Flame Dragon Heart Stage in his training ever since he left Morrowind. After coming face to face with the remnants of the Dragon Soul stuck in the cover of the book, Jon regained his feeling of being weak once again and he started meditating without realizing. He was breaking free from the bottleneck.

Meanwhile, Beth was sleeping not too far away from him. She shut her eyes tightly and saw a dream.

A Spear, Three Swords, a Ship with Red Sails. She saw two men fighting in the desert each was on the brink of falling apart. One was carrying a spear with the shape of a cobra to its blade and his limbs were all broken, the other was carrying a sickle sword and protecting someone. It didn't feel like Hammerfell but the man with the spear was definitely Zain judging by his [Serpent Spear], the other man looked out of place.

She saw the demise of Zain on the hands of a complete stranger.

~~~~~~~~~~

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