I flinched away from his ghostly fingers but the light streaming out of his eyes brightened and hit me right in the face like a punch. It was blindingly bright and colder than the frozen north of Atmora and for several seconds I tried to scream through frozen lips and a locked jaw. Billions of images and whirling sights and memories that were somehow my own and yet not wheeled in front of my eyes, spinning dizzyingly until I felt my stomach threaten to rebel against me.

  Scenes of utter destruction flashed through my eyes as I gazed across a landscape strewn with the debris of perpetual war. Arms, armour and bones lay where they had fallen, soaking the burnt ground in their blood-stained forms as they poked out of the ash and fumes. Everywhere the greenery of Tamriel had been consumed by the fires of Oblivion until nothing but death and destruction remained.

  But life, and resistance remained despite the Daedric power that was consuming the land. Walled cities stood tall against the foe even as the world burned around them. Soldiers of strength and faith stood alongside the citizens that they had sworn to protect against a roaring sea of Daedra laid siege to them. Their numbers were uncountable and just trying to estimate them gave me the beginnings of a migraine. In hordes and dying by the thousands, they piled their corpses against the walls in an effort to scale over on the bloodied forms of their dead. Despite all the death, despite everything that had happened there was still hope and strength against the daedric invasion of Mehrunes Dagon. While the Nine supported the faithful, the Lord of Destruction could not prevail.

  Despite their faith and courage in the face of destruction, the greatest threat came from within. Attentions solely on the more obvious threat outside their walls, those fighting didn't see the dark canker that grew within. While their back was turned I watched horrified as a new danger rose from within, growing from the very heart of the faith in the Divines. It was one that they would not have the strength to fight at the same time as the armies of the Lord of Destruction.

  "You see..." The rolling voice of Pelinal said as golden Daedra rose from the chapels and shrines of the Divines and assaulted the living from behind. "Alone, and fighting solely against Mehrunes Dagon, the people of Tamriel are capable of holding off, or even defeating him in the war to come. They gain their strength and conviction from their faith but while they fight against the foes to their front and which are noticeable; they are blind to the threat that grows from within."

  With the golden Daedra attacking from the rear, and already pressed hard at their front's by the forces of Mehrunes Dagon the last surviving mortals were overcome. Horror grew within me as I saw the widespread destruction and desecration of the world even before the last mortal was dragged to the ground and killed. Against one foe there was a chance of victory, even without the Amulet of Kings and the Dragonborn, but against the other, more insidious foe there was no hope at all.

  "So Umaril must be dealt with before the Lord of Destruction attacks." I said simply, trying to close my eyes to the sights of such horror.

  "He must." Pelinal replied, his voice echoing out of the rolling darkness that slowly replaced the sickening visions of the world's ending. "More importantly and what many will not realise until it is far too late, is that with every attack the barriers between Nirn and Oblivion weaken that much faster. The more attacks by Umaril and his minions that are successful the greater the damage and the sooner Dagon's invasion will occur. Unfortunately only a true and just knight wielding my relics has any chance of defeating Umaril. You and Viconia may not be those who wields my mace and my sword against the Accursed; but you may be the ones who finds the one who will."

  "And if we choose to hunt down your relics and we fight against Umaril... What then?" I asked the void, trying to blink away the impenetrable blackness that had fallen across my eyes that even my vampiric sight could not penetrate.

  "The future is clouded and uncertain for as you both are outside the influence of the Elder Scrolls it is nearly impossible to ascertain anything. Nothing is certain in your futures, and I see uncountable paths that your actions might take you. These are but some of the events that may come to pass..."

  There was another explosion of light behind my eyes, and I found myself nauseous at the millions of sights and experiences that overwhelmed my mind. I saw lands that I had never been to, people I had never met and thousands of memories that I had not yet lived through to remember. In a heartbeat I saw my entire life from birth to death and everything in between. I saw my mother, raising me when I was still very young and singing me to sleep in our home within the mountains of eastern Hammerfell. I saw myself crouched close to my father as I pulled back the string of my first bow, and felt the exhaustion and agony I felt in the first months of legion training. Every moment I had ever experienced was suddenly fresh and alive as though they were all happening again with the space of a moment, but then the future began to force itself into my mind.

  Friends and acquaintances aged and withered before my very eyes, the lands grew older and the flitting forms of people jostled around me, crumbling to dust as the weight of the years pressed down. Decades passed in a matter of moments, and as mortals faded into nothing but muted whispers of their former lives, I remained young and undying by my cursed and corrupt nature.

  I found myself staring across a castle under siege, arrows, shouts of anger and screams of pain filling the air as burning rocks were hurled at the towering walls. The ramparts were filled with jostling and packed men who stabbed and hacked at each other, fighting fiercely to control the castle walls even as more poured into the fray from both sides. Night was falling quickly, and the dance of carnage and death was being played under the burning lights of dozens of fires from inside and outside of the castle.

  My vision seemed to move to where the fighting seemed the thickest but instead of packed bodies dressed in all of the accruements of war, there was a visibly clear space around a single pair of warriors. Alone and unaided the two of them fought against a massive host of their foes. They were both dressed in the plate and surcoats of the defenders, but were so drenched in blood and gore that any heraldry was now unrecognizable. Bodies lined the walls where they had been killed and despite facing off against such numbers that outnumbered them ten to one the pair continued to fight relentlessly.

  Both fought like demons, their movements like quicksilver as they flowed over the piled dead and sliced through their opponents. Blood sprayed into the darkening sky as they slashed through the pressing numbers arrayed against them, dodging attacks that appeared clumsy compared to their levels of skill. For a moment I watched, spellbound at the spectacle unfolding before me, but as the taller of the two warriors turned and faced the other I found myself staring into at my own face.

  The years of existence might have been near-invisible on my flesh but I could see the years etched deep within my eyes and the dozens of wounds and scars that had slowly accumulated over the decades. I could see how experience had toughened me, tempering me like steel until my mind, body and resolve had been hardened to almost-unbreakable levels.

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  But it was when I laid eyes upon the warrior by my side, that my heart seemed to freeze in my chest and shock filled the very core of my being. For several moments that seemed to drag on into eternity I stared at the warrior fighting alongside me. He was several inches shorter than myself, but matched me muscle for muscle that were filled with youthful power and energy. Together we fought with wild abandon, but our movements were perfectly matched, our techniques filled with the same grace and liquid dexterity that we could've been twins. Although our plate armour and surcoats were bathed in blood and had all trace of their heraldry concealed in gore, there was no mistaking the colour of the warrior's skin. Under the metal and leather of his armour, his skin was a deep tanned grey that looked as though he had been covered in a thick layer of ash, but there was no mistaking his features.

  I stared at his face, seeing his ancestry in his pronounced bone structure and feeling a shiver of recognition as I gazed into his hard yellow eyes. His face was sharp and pronounced, but there was a very familiar feel to it even as he grimaced and roared out a battle cry to match my own. Hair waving about in the strong wind blowing up over the walls, I could clearly see the sharp tapered points to his ears, and knew immediately who this young warrior was. I knew, without any doubt in my mind that I was staring into the face of the son of Viconia and I.

  We fought together, side by side and back to back on the towering walls of the castle even as the enemy swarmed up over ladders and a massive siege towered lowered its ramp for the attackers to pour across. Dozens were slain with every moment that passed, until the bodies had to be kicked or thrown from the walls to allow the others to advance across the blood-slick stone surfaces. I watched with pride as he hurled himself at two enemy soldiers who were charging me with halberds, deflecting one easily with his blade and cutting the other's throat with a single contemptuous flick. My back was turned to face down another trio of foes but he fought them off easily, fighting with moves that were identical to my own and within moments our enemies were dead and dying on the blood-soaked walls.

  There was a look shared between the two of us, and I could see my future self beaming with pride as I fought alongside my son. Turning to the massed group of soldiers lowering their pikes and halberds into a wall of steel points to keep us at bay I could see their fear, a terror that was billowing from them despite the way they outnumbered us easily ten to one.

  For a moment we stood together, congealing blood dripping from our swords and down over our armour, staring silently at our foes as they nervously dropped back into defensive positions. There was a tension fuelling our limbs now, and we shared a briefest glance between us as we faced our foes. Their fear was growing at our actions, but fear soon gave way to utter horror as we dropped into fighting stances, roaring on the top of our lungs as I let out the beast. My face stretched and elongated, fangs erupting out from between my lips as my eyes turned into swirling whirlpools of blackness. My roar was viscous and terrible to behold, but to my utter surprise and horror I saw similar changes go through the features of my future son.

  His skin pulled tight over his skull and he too let the animal within loose as his teeth lengthened to form fangs. With dual roars of vampiric hatred, we hurled ourselves into the press of wavering enemies and the vision faded to be replaced with another.

  My eyes seemed to open again but this time the visage of the burning castle surrounded in death had been replaced with the seemingly cold darkness of a richly furnished bedroom. Silks and banners hung from the walls, all clad in an indefinable heraldic mark and the furniture was expensive and covered with items of the highest quality. Although despite all of its finery, the entire room had the feel of a tomb about it.

  Lying on the bed and almost appearing consumed by the richness of the silk and velvet bedcovers, was Viconia. Her ebony flesh, normally vibrant and full of life was now pale and resembling bleached coal. Sweat matted the rich sheets and covers that were pulled up over her chest and under her arms, and my heart broke to see her in such a condition. She was dying, and I knew in a glance that she had less than an hour, if not minutes to live.

  Not that she was alone in her pain and sickness, as yet again I was within the vision, sitting by her side and looking as though was world was crashing in around me. A glance into my own features told me enough, and I could see the pain and agony at watching Viconia die etched upon my features. I could see my face twitching and writhing under the skin as the beast rose up with my emotions, but it was calmed and suppressed as Viconia weakly lifted a hand and pressed her fingers into my cheek. This vision too faded into nothing as I crushed her hand affectionately into the side of my face, tears rolling down my cheeks and staining the bed sheets.

  Again I found myself in darkness, watching my future self slowly make his way through the depths of the world. I was alone, wielding the Light of Dawn in my right hand with a migraine inducing haziness around my left hand that spoke of powerful magicka. No torch or lantern illuminated my path through the darkness, and the way my face was taut and fangs visible showed that the vampire was assisting my passage over the rocky cavern floor.

  The cavern itself was huge, giving my future self the appearance of an ant moving through an amphitheatre. Towering columns rose up into the blackness, holding the roof dozens of metres above the floor and each one over three metres thick at the base. Nothing else seemed to move within the darkness except my future self, and the dust that my passage stirred into whispering shapes half-seen in the shadows.

  For a moment the earth heaved, rocks pattered down from the ceiling far above my head and in a flare of light a magical ward was born from the energies contained within my future self's hand. Deep and terrible, the roar of something ancient and powerful rumbled through the ground and stirred the centuries of dust laying on the floor into billowing ghosts and phantoms reaching towards the ceiling. The cavern's sole inhabitant had finally noticed the intruder to its home and bellowing its challenge from a head the size of a siege ram, the creature of scales and fire rushed my future self.

  Again the vision changed, twisting and weaving and showing thousands of my future paths.

  I saw myself within another mighty cavern, striding up flights of steps of a ziggurat within the bowels of the earth to face a creature of limbs and darkness.

  I stood upon the bow of a mighty warship bellowing orders to the crew as another pulled in close as we traded arrows, ballista bolts and grappling hooks.

  I was a knight clad in armoured plate mounted on his massive warhorse,

  I was a trader dressed in rich furs bartering his wares.

  I was a beggar clad in mouldy rags begging for coins

  I was a brutal pit fighter killing with his hands for the amusement of the crowd.

  I wore the robes of a powerful ruler, and wore a crown upon my brow.

  I was clad in gilded mail and raising my sword to the roars of a million soldiers.

  I witnessed dozens of victories, hundreds of defeats, dozens of friends I was yet to meet, enemies I was yet to face and places that I had never even dreamed of existing. But with every sight that I was shown, I was shown the opposite; of what would occur if Viconia and I didn't seek out the relics.

  The world would end. Against the forces of Mehrunes Dagon there was hope, the chance even without our assistance that the Amulet of Kings would be found, Martin be crowned Emperor and the Dragonfires relit. The world could be saved and while our actions would improve the chances, the festering canker that was Umaril would breach the barriers between worlds far, far too soon for victory to be in our grasp.

  Pelinal was right.

  Although we had a choice with the information that we now had, there really wasn't much of a choice at all. We had to find his relics and find the new Champion of the Gods or our futures would be brutally short.

  "Enough." I spat, trying to block out the thousands of sights and experiences rushing through my mind. "Stop this. I've seen enough!"