Rising to my full height with a start and feeling the light cascade of snow fall from my shoulders, I looked about in all directions looking for the unseen speaker. The words seemed to billow up from the ground, echoing out from the air while somehow whispered from the trees. It was deep, purposeful and full of wisdom and experience that resounds deep within my bones.
For a moment I thought that I had somehow imagined the voice, but a glance to Viconia put end to that. She too was looking about the tiny glade that the altar was set within and the hairs on the back of my neck began to raise as I saw the way her eyes moved and focussed on something over my shoulder. Instinctively my hand shifted to the pommel of Sunchild as she grasped Dragonbane and her ebony hued skin became several shades lighter. Her reaction made me feel distinctly uneasy, even more so than the presence at my back as I turned to face it.
He was tall, so tall in fact that I barely came up to his nose. There was a strange power infusing his limbs and even fully armoured with his face hidden from view behind a full helm of steel the sheer force of his personality made it difficult to gaze upon him for any more than a few seconds at most. The armour was ancient, a design of decades, if not centuries before. He was also heavily armed with a lengthy bastard sword strapped down his spine, and a mace hanging by his side in a loop of leather with all the appearance of being able to shatter kingdoms with a single blow. A shield of blood-red and mithril silver gleamed under the noon-day sun was strapped to an arm and despite its sturdy appearance it was surprisingly small, more of a buckler than the tower shields of the Legion that I was more familiar with. Besides his overwhelming personality I also had to advert my gaze as every inch of his armour was polished to an incredible shine that seemed to melt the snow with reflection alone.
Within seconds and despite my mind struggling with the realisation, there was no doubt that this being, this warrior was not among the living. His boots didn't leave a trace on the ground behind him but instead sunk effortlessly into the snow. While solid appearing, there was no doubt that he was hazy and indistinct but he was also transparent to some degree.
"Your prayers have awoken me from my endless dream..." The shade of the ancient warrior muttered, almost to himself as his words echoed out of the air caressing our bare faces and the very land around us "Or perhaps you have entered my dream, and I still sleep..."
"Pelinal..."
The shade of the Divine Crusader nodded at my whispering of his name and I felt as though my entire soul and mind had been laid bare under his intense gaze. I could not see his face as it remained hidden behind a solid full-plated helm that covered his features under a skin of steel but there was the sensation of eyes within the tiny vison slit. It was like in a moment he had looked into me, seen my entire life and past, every event that I had endured from the cradle and I suspected all the way to the grave.
"I think others have sometimes spoken to me. Others like you, but my memory is doubtful." There seemed to be a moment's hesitation from the ghostly warrior, almost like he was struggling to think clearly. "Perhaps the others came after you..."
Pausing with head turning and looking between the two of us again and I couldn't help but flinch under his unyielding gaze. It was powerful enough to penetrate armour, skin, flesh, bone and soul, and within the presence of such being, even dead I felt as insignificant as an insect under a boot.
"The need must be great for the gods to allow us to speak..." With his hands covered in segmented gauntlets, they grasped the sides of his helmet tightly, tugging it free and allowing us to gaze upon him in the flesh.
If I had ever thought of it prior to such an impossible encounter I would have struggled to imagine what such a hero would have looked like. Somehow Pelinal seemed to fit his titles and legend like it was a second skin. His face was hardened and weather-beaten with a multitude of scars crisscrossing his skin until wrinkles and scar tissue merged seamlessly together. It was impossible to determine his exact age as he appeared to be as young and powerful as a man fresh from his teens, and yet his flesh, eyes and hair spoke of a man who had lived beyond fifty. His expression and force of personality was overwhelming, as the grim determination in his features spoke of the will to defeat any evil and he was a man who would've faced down the daedric princes given the chance. He knew no fear, knew no doubt and had not known defeat until the very hour of his death.
What struck me the most was his eyes, and I struggled to hold his gaze for anything more than a second.They were the cold sharp colour of a Skyrim glacier, piercing and unflinching in their silent intensity. I knew he could see deep within the darkest recesses of my soul with his eyes, and the thought was enough to send a shiver of fear through my body.
"I am indeed Pelinal." He turned his gaze upon us once more, taking in and dissecting our souls purposefully and without any hesitation. "And who may you two worthy Knights be, who the Gods have granted an audience?"
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For a moment I struggled to even form words, as Pelinal's presence stripped me of any thoughts that entered my mind.
"My name is Kaius Desin," I finally managed to stammer, motioning towards Viconia with a hand without taking my eyes off the holy visage of the Ghost in front of me. "And this is Viconia DeVir."
Pelinal nodded to each of us respectfully as he held his helmet in the crook of an elbow. For a moment he listened to the winds, eyes glancing around us like he was witness to sights that only he could see.
"The land speaks your Names and your deeds Sir Desin and Madame DeVir. You are mighty warriors and renowned Knights, but I fear that there would only be one reason for our meeting. Has Umaril the Accursed found a way back? The foulest of a foul race?! A thousand curses upon his unholy Name!" Pelinal seemed to tremble with such rage that even his ghostly armour seemed to creak under the strain. "I thought I had won, but I should have known! The Slave Masters are a cunning breed. Umaril found a way to cheat death as I could not."
I glanced to Viconia, and breathed in slightly as I tried to regain some of my composure. "The Forces of Mehrunes Dagon are invading the world, and there are those who believe that Umaril has returned. The Chapel of Dibella in Anvil has been desecrated, as have several others throughout Tamriel. Dark magicka has been used to defile the shrines and a Crusade has been called to reclaim your arms and weapons so that a new Crusader can take the fight to Umaril."
There was an undeniable rush of emotions that flowed through the long-dead shade; there was fury at the attack on the Divines, and joyous surprise at the call to find his relics.
"A crusade you say? And the faithful have responded to the call?" Curiosity kept in over the fury and surprise and he was looking at us questioningly. "And what of the two of you? Do you seek my relics as Knights of the centuries past have?"
An embarrassed silence fell between us, and I knew that we answered his question without any words needing to be said.
"No... No you do not. Your silence tells me much, as does your hearts."
"Only a true and pure Knight, blessed by the gods can hope to wield your weapons and don your armour." I replied, staring him right in the eye properly for the first time despite the way that I had to physically force myself to meet his gaze. "We are not pure enough to be the ones to face down Umaril if he indeed is returning. I am a vampire and as for Viconia?"
At my side and looking slightly grey at the close proximity to such a being in front of us, Viconia nodded in agreement. "Your gods are not my gods and I walk my own path. We are not capable of fighting against Umaril but we can fight against Mehrunes Dagon and his followers."
"A noble sentiment and true... To some extent." Pelinal's lips pursed for a moment. "Within every being in the bounds of this world there is a fight deep within their very souls between the goodness of the hearts and the darkness that lies within. No one, not even me, are completely pure. We always have to struggle against our darker natures. In the later days of the war against the Ayleids I slaughtered hundreds, if not thousands of Khajiit; mistaking their strange forms as being nothing more than another variety of Daedra commanded by my hated foes. Upon my discovery of what I had done and the foul murder that I had committed I was disgusted with myself. Even until the very moment of my death I sought repentance for such evil I had committed. What makes us all who we are is the constant battle between our opposite natures and it is not the absence of evil that makes you holy."
He cracked his neck with audible crunches and I couldn't help but think of a mountain heaving under a forceful earthquake. "I have heard your prayers these previous days and so have the gods. Unlike so many you have neither asked, nor expected anything for your prayers. Despite your differences and your backgrounds and the darkness inherent in your souls you have only prayed to help others or for what is required for you to do so."
"Viconia," He said, turning and gesturing to her with a steel encased hand. "You have prayed to gods that are not your own. Even despite the threat of severe punishment, you prayed for Talos himself to look over the land and help your love."
Ignoring the way that Viconia simultaneously scowled and managed to look uncomfortable at his words, he then gestured to me. "And you Kaius... Did you not say that you would take evil within yourself so that others will not have to suffer it? Even if it meant being cursed for the rest of your life?"
I nodded, slowly and carefully at his words.
"Well then." His smile was broad and friendly. "Only the gods have the right to pass judgement on those who they deem worthy; and here I stand in proof of their decision. The only question is what you two choose to do with the knowledge that I may grant you."
"Why us?" I asked as I finally managed to find my tongue.
"Because you have been chosen to." He replied. "Every few generations there are individuals who are outside the influence of the Elder Scrolls and can choose their own fates. Most mortals live out their lives and have only one thread of fate to follow, but your futures are both clouded and ever-changing with the decisions you make. You two alone have the power to change the fates of the entire world and it falls to you to do make a decision."
Viconia's voice was hollow and empty at the ancient shade's words. "What decision?"
"Whether you follow the path of so many before you on the trail of my relics, or whether you turn from the quest to face down your previous foe."
"So we have to choose whether we hunt for your relics and face down Umaril, or to continue on our previous path against Mehrunes Dagon." My own tone was bitter as once again I felt as though my control over my own life was slipping from my fingers.
"There is no easy answer or any easy decision, but you two stand at a crossroads in fate." Pelinal's eyes seemed to glaze over for a moment and his incorporeal body seemed to shift slightly with the wind as he stretched out his hand towards us. "I can see separate futures for the both of you, and both have a great effect upon the fate of the world."
His thin, scarred lips seemed to curl into a smile as he reached out to us. "I will show you the results of your decision."

