#ar1a

“To imprison or condemn the curious is the worst crime.” - Makkonen do Hadofar, Yokudan statesman.

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LANDFALL: Day 2562

“You’ve put yourself in quite a predicament, Redguard,” chuckled the old Dunmer captain. I glowered. Nothing about my situation was funny. Maybe Dunmer are just weird like that.

“It is unfortunate that so young and innocent a mind should-“

“No,” I interrupted. “I’m not innocent. I know what happened to the world. By Oblivion, I saw it. I can remember that thing as clear as day. And I’m not that young,” I added emphatically.

The old Dunmer smiled. “My apologies,” he said. “Nevertheless, there is the question of what to do with you. Don’t worry, we’re not going to hurt you.”

Did I look afraid? Crap, I probably did…

“We can’t keep you here forever, but we also cannot risk you telling the rest of the people what you heard and spreading fear in one of the most uncertain times in history. So, “he clapped his hands and leaned forward. “What are we to do, Redguard?”

“Well for starters, you can call me Aaina.”

“Ha ha, very good. I am Rogus, Captain of the Crimson Canary.”

“You can also untie me,” I demanded.

“Mmm, from what I heard from your captors, that would be most unwise.”

Either way, it doesn’t matter. Where could I possibly run on this island? There’s nowhere to…Hold on…

“Look, Rogus, time is running out for everyone here, and I have no intention of staying on this rock moping around and wallowing in grief until I die like my mother. Like you said, you can’t keep me here forever, and you can’t or won’t kill me because of the suspicions it would raise. Let me join your crew.”

“You are too young, child. Aaina, was it? Men three times your age have gone mad from what they have witnessed out there. These are no longer the seas we once knew, and you know nothing of how we must sail today.”

“Then teach me! What, will you sail with madmen and madmer until you’re the last one alive?! What exactly do you hope to protect if you won’t let anyone help?!”

Shit, I’m starting to tear up. Hold it together girl, hold it together. Thankfully, a heavy sigh left his tired face.

“Very well. After all, it is the apocalypse. Meet me at dock three tomorrow before sunrise. Bring only what you need and what’s most precious to you.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. By the Gods, it’s finally happening. I’m finally going to leave. Is this a dream? If so, it’s a good dream but I would hate to wake up from it. I was untied and escorted by a group of sailors back to my room and kept under guard. All the while, I was in a dream-like state. This is real now. I’m leaving.

Thankfully, there wasn’t much I had to think about bringing. I packed some clothes, what remained of my mother’s jewelry, and books. Right, my books. Thanks, dad. I threw all the volumes and journal entries of Banu Hanimasaishi into my burlap sack and did my best to sleep. Ha. As if I could sleep on such a momentous occasion.

"Why worship Shadows when you can worship Memories?" - Banu Hanimasaishi

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LANDFALL: Day 2561

From her rooftop hammock, Aaina relied on the plentiful moonlight to illuminate the pages she had been turning ever since that Dunmer stranger gave them to her six days prior. She had become utterly enamoured by these stories of adventure. Whether it was Yuna’s adventures to the depths of the ocean, or Cyrus swashbuckling his way through she-demons and Emperors, or fat and silly Morhwa taking husbands from all over, she had given up the cliffs for her water-stained books. She had only ever known Herne and the world within the walls of Sentinel, and this was a bittersweet escape from the monotony of what was referred to as life by the islanders.

“What I wouldn’t give to have been a part of Cyrus’ crew,” she sighed.

She paused to appreciate the beauty of the night. The moonlight was strong, but the stars shone nonetheless in the clear sky above. The irony of a beautiful Armageddon was not lost upon her, though she liked to imagine Cyrus was still out there sailing through Oblivion finding new enemies to cut through. Only in this quiet moment away from the pages of her books did she finally take notice of the murmur coming from the house next door. A particularly gravelly voice stood out to her. She snuck down as quietly as possible and strained to listen to the already hushed voices.

“I’m telling you, there is nothing left! The oceans steam off the cracked and molten earth. There is precious little left.”

“Lancel, what of your fleet?”

The man whom she could only have assumed was Lancel scoffed. “We couldn’t sail; there was a chasm of nothing that spanned several miles. Where the Iliac should have been, there was only emptiness.”

“Tell them about the gears.”

“What?”

“Look, there’s no way we can be sur-”

“Tell them about the gears!”

“What’s he on about?

“Bretons are crazy,” Aaina thought to herself. “Too much damnable magic.”

“The crew of the Starhauler claim to have seen gears through the steam of the Ocean’s End, but no one else saw anything like that.”

“In any case,” interjected that oh so familiar voice, “such a revelation is relatively immaterial given our current predicament. With every day that passes, we can no longer sail as far as the day before. Some ancient magic holds our world together, but it is fading. Our last confirmed sighting of the Numidium was two years ago when Argonia was literally floating away from what little remained of Tamriel. Time is running out, and Herne may eventually become our grave.”

Aaina couldn’t help but gasp, which only alerted the men and women to the presence of a stranger.

“Shit,” she whispered.

“There is no use in dogma. There is only survival.” – Gaiden Shinji

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LANDFALL: Day 2555

Aaina kept an attentive eye on the horizon for the returning ships, having opted to forgo memorial activities in the heart of the city. ‘Honouring’ the ending of the world had never held much of an appeal to her. Rather, she yearned to join them; those who, aided by ancient crafts and magic, sailed away to bring news and tidings of the apocalypse. In all the years since Sentinel was crushed beneath the waves, she came to know every inch of Herne and often found herself bored out of her mind. Not yet old enough to join a crew, she consigned herself to daydreaming. It was the only escape she knew.

Though they and others from Hammerfell and High Rock had survived, Herne became nothing more than a home to depressed and suspicious souls. Precious few Crowns could be found on the island, and there was an uneasy peace between them and the Forebear majority. A desire to survive and remain hidden from the Brass God’s vengeance was all-consuming and left nothing but an atmosphere of uneasiness and fear, hence Aaina’s sojourns to the cliffs away from Tava’s Nest.

Though the days remained beautiful and often peaceful, there were signs of strange happenings and magic that made themselves known; a reminder that this was nothing but a façade. There were nights where the stars twinkled madly and the planets disappeared. On some mornings, the sun would be crowned in a blue corona that could not be deciphered by any present on the island. Fishermen often told tales of catching magical beings dredged up from the waters below, only for them to dissolve back into the water. If fishermen are to be believed, they caught more water wraiths than fish.

Black dots appeared on the horizon. Aaina got to her feet, dusted her rear, and made her way back to the city.

LANDFALL: Day One

Few memories have stuck with me as vividly as the one on that day all those years ago. It had started like any other, then the Moons became like suns and a terrible din emanated from the horizon. The sound was truly terrifying; a rising chorus of countless screams wailing in agony. My mother grabbed me and rushed me toward the docks with no explanation. I remember being confused rather than scared, and then I saw it.

Glowing red in the evening sun, a towering brass leviathan with cold eyes peered over the great walls of Sentinel. It opened its mouth but all that could be heard were the howls coming from the people and the bronze beast itself. In that moment, an entire quarter of Sentinel was folded upon itself and condemned to Oblivion. A thunder from below rose up and tuned out the wails of mortal and God alike. Rich, poor, and all manner of races were swallowed up. Not once did my mother look back.

At that point I was well and truly terrified. I couldn’t bear to open my eyes until my mother assured me that we were safe aboard a ship making its way through chopped and stormy waters as fast as the crew could take us. All around me were strangers; Redguards, Bretons, Khajiit, Dunmer and Orcs. Each unified in fear at the colossus laying waste to what had been our homes and livelihoods. Our mercy was its mission to move inland. In mere moments, the Gods had robbed me and countless others of everything we had known and loved. To this day, I cannot tell if it was the cries of the Sentinelese who were trapped ashore or if they were of the Numidium itself that roared above the waves of Oblivion’s ambassador.

We didn't know it at the time, but we and other refugees would be all that remained of Hammerfell and the Redguards.