At last, Mehrunes Dagon was banished to the Darkness, for a time. With Dagon gone, his armies in Shade Perilous would no longer be controlled by his soldiers. Seeing the frail mortal hold his close friend tight, reminded me a lot of Deyanira. Sweet Deynaira, I regret wholeheartedly that she sacrificed herself for me in order to snap me out of that ensnaring melancholy.
The Hunting Lodge is no place for mortals - nor myself - for that matter. I decided it was time that my faint candle fled Oblivion along with his friend in tow - back to Mundus, where he belongs. He shall be remembered for what he has done here this day. Singlehandedly, fighting through hundreds of Daedra, travelling through several realms in Oblivion and banishing a Daedric Lord - the Prince of Destruction no less - all to save another. He knew the risks with travelling in Oblivion. He knew that at any point, he could've been slain, be it by spell or blade - with no way of 'coming' back to life, like we Daedra do. How mortals do not despair, when they have so much to lose, is a mystery I may never solve.
As I granted them passage back to Mundus, using the last of the Magicka I had left, I felt the eyes of my faint candle look upon me. Not in a yearning for my body, but in gratitude, as if to say thank you for what I had done. I shall remember him, and how faint his candle is. Faint and flickering. Shortly after I had sent the mortals home, I did realise where I was. Dagon's Hunting Lodge, where the souls of mortals who had sworn to serve him, haunt it for all eternity. Just the knowledge of restless men and women watching me closely sent chills down my spine and gave me all the more reason to return home myself.
When I finally returned home it was, as if years had gone by in an instant. My eyes could not prepare me for the carnage that was left behind. Nothing but ashes floating in the breeze all around me, the land littered with corpses of fellow Nocturnals and Daedra. The one thing that had not changed at all, was the ever swirling purple and black 'sky' of Shade Perilous. And at last, I saw her, Deyanira, my Deyanira, whom I could sense her but something felt wrong. She was surrounded by corpses, laying down midair, as if there was some form of i nvisible stone slab holding her up.
Her features slowly became more clearer, as I neared her. Her once white long hair, now dust ridden and short, as if it was cut roughly with a dagger. Her face once bright and giving, now expressionless. Once giving off emotions - like all creatures and Daedra do except for the mindless - namely hope, but now nothing but grief, despair and sadness. My worst fears were finally confirmed - she had fallen into a waking slumber, just like I had.
'Deyanira, in the name of Nocturnal, I Jaciel Morgen, Greater Nocturnal, bid you awake from your enchantment', using what magicka I could in my voice.
'I rise through sorrow, I sink with hope. You did this Jaciel, leaving our home, we could not hold back our ancient enemies - all to help a manling no less. Know you not your oaths? To protect Shade Perilous and those who reside here? To act as a beacon for our sisters if and when we are slain, so we may return swiftly. Nay, perhaps you have forgotten or you do not care.', she whispered quietly to me, each of her words striking true.
Before I could defend or even explain myself, she spoke once more, 'You have done your damage. Leave me to my sweet melancholia, as I have nothing more to say to you. Shall we never meet again.'
As I stepped back, in shock of what she told me, I realised that nothing would snap her out of her waking slumber. Even my own sacrifice for her, as she cared not for me anymore. Looking around me, seeing the carnage of my home once more, I knew in my heart she spoke true.
Like a coward - like a helpless small mortal - I fell to my knees and wept. I wept for my sisters who had fallen, for the mortals who had died because of Dagon's invasion and for my sweet Deyanira, who will never forgive me. Eventually, my tears ran dry and out of shame for what I had done - I fled Shade Perilous. Taking one last look at the damage that I only had done so it would be imprinted in my mind, so it would haunt me for ages to come, as punishment and as torture. I fled home, letting my spirit float Oblivion aimlessly - going to where the faint candle came from, Mundus.