80 Soul Cairn Pt. 3

"Thaena?"

Rictus stood mouth agape at the Soul as she kept moving towards a massive mausoleum. His mind was a whirl of emotions as he tried comprehending the sheer coincidence of meeting her here. What were the chances of him dealing with the Keeper which had her imprisoned? There were three of them after all. On top of that, why was her soul being trapped by a Keeper in the first place? The chances of him running into her in this vast desolate plane should have been miniscule, yet it was almost like it was predetermined they would meet again. Rictus hated feeling like some character in a story where these sorts of miraculous encounters happened all the time. The mutters of Thaena drew his attention back to her though.

"He was so stubborn and angry. Why couldn't he just listen?"

Rictus's heart felt heavy as he knew the only person who she could be referring to. Assur was her only child and had also died in a similar manner as she did. He didn't know what could have happened once they got here though.

Thaena stopped a little ways off from the entrance to the mausoleum. He was caught off guard when she suddenly turned around and stared directly at him.

"I couldn't make him listen. Please. He doesn't deserve this. He's just a boy."

Looking closer, Rictus realized she wasn't really looking at him, but straight threw him as if she couldn't see him at all. Turning back around, her hand reached out pleadingly towards the mausoleum's entrance.

"My boy."

Without another word, she suddenly disappeared just like the first soul which tried speaking with them. Rictus was left dazed at the entire encounter which almost felt like a dream. A part of him wondered if the entire thing was just his mind playing tricks on him. It all had happened so suddenly. Still, he knew what he had just witnessed was reality despite his best wishes that it wasn't. It would be so much easier to ignore it, but he simply couldn't.

Looking back, he still wasn't quite sure why Assur and Thaena's death had caused such an impact on him. Yes, he had interacted with them while in Winterhold and even started teaching Assur some things about magic. Their interactions had been fun, and they were getting closer, but his hurt and reaction at their deaths was almost excessive when he thought back on it. He basically went to war and risked his life and the lives of his followers because of it. It was a worthy cause since the Blood Horkers needed to be stopped, but it had felt more personal than that. Even though they had not been his, something about losing a wife and son resonated with him on a deeper level. That was probably why he didn't hesitate much at all as he made his way into the dark gaping maw that was the mausoleums entrance.

Darkness enshrouded him as if he was walking in the dead of night. His enhanced vision couldn't penetrate it at all. A faint red light which would slowly alternate between on and off could be made out coming from around a corner though. When he could finally lay eyes on what was causing the light though, he froze.

The room was a large open area with a vaulted ceiling taller than two giants standing on each other shoulders. Bones littered the floor and were piled high against the far wall. A pedestal stood near the middle of the room, right before a grate which covered a strange magical rune. What stood out the most though was the peculiar wrathman standing by the back wall and between some piles of bones.

It was slightly smaller in stature compared to the previous ones he had fought. On top of that, a tattered black cloth hung from the armor, almost mimicking robes. It wielded a great ax like its other counterparts, but what it was doing with the ax was part of what was so strange. Rictus watched in fascination as it held out one hand and conjured a small red ball of light near the wall. Then, it would throw the ax at the light which would disappear on impact. The wrathman continued repeating this action over and over again as Rictus silently watched as the pit in his stomach only grew. It didn't take a genius to figure out what was going on here.

He had found Assur, or at least what was left of him. It was the only thing that made any sense. Thaena had led him here while mourning about her son. The wrathman wore tattered robes which looked similar to the ones Rictus had worn when he first saved the boy in Winterhold. On top of that, when Rictus had taught him how to conjure a magelight, the boy would only conjure a small red one since it was his favorite color. The wrathman even threw its ax at the light, just like how Rictus told Assur he used to practice. Rictus's eyes started watering as he stared at what remained of the boy he used to know.

"Quite a sight, isn't it?"

Rictus quickly spun around toward the location of the voice. Another Soul was leaning against the wall near him also watching the wrathman. This one seemed a bit more whole than the other souls he had seen here somehow. He could tell the soul looked like the iconic Nord, big and strong, but he did not recognize him. The fact it was talking to him in a coherent manner gave Rictus a chance to find some answers he so desperately wanted.

"How did this happen?"

The soul turned and looked at him a moment before explaining.

"Sometimes if a big enough impression is left on a soul, it will retain some characteristics even after the change. It is really rare though, especially for one as young as this one was."

Rictus frowned at the explanation.

"How does this change even happen? How do the Ideal Masters choose what soul they force this change upon?"

A slight chuckle came from the soul beside him.

"You are mistaken if you think the Ideal Masters force this upon anyone. They are not really like everyone assumes."

"What do you mean?"

The soul took a moment before answering.

"The Ideal Masters are quite interesting honestly. Different than most other necromancers or deadric princes. They exist in a state of peaceful rest and eternal love, buy their own standards at least. Their spirits have no forms but dwell inside gems, as far as I know at least. They are almost completely dismissive of mortals, but they will buy souls from those who are selling or will offer 'services' to any mortal that wishes. Some do remember wearing flesh more than the other more detached Masters, and they are usually the ones who are known for interacting more with other beings."

Rictus wasn't quite sold on this but continued listening as the soul kept talking.

"There is a place here called the 'Chapel of Love' which has a device called the 'Twin Fingers of Life.' It is in the Chapel that a soul pledges themselves to the Ideal Masters' service. Interestingly, service to the Ideal Masters is not Forced but always Freely Given."

That was a little difficult to believe, and the soul could see the apprehension on his face.

"Think about it. There are many souls hanging around the Soul Cairn which are not among the 'Ranks of the Blessed', which are the bonemen, mistmen, and wrathmen. They are roughly free to wander about the Cairn without service and aren't even hostile to interlopers like yourself. If the Ideal Masters were forcing service, why would they allow this? They would instead simply get their minions to gather up all the souls and force them into submission. The souls here couldn't even really put up a fight either if that happened, and it would greatly swell the ranks of the Ideal Masters. It isn't like they have to bother feeding their subjects like the daedric princes."

The reasoning did make a certain kind of sense. They had passed quite a number of souls traveling through the Cairn while the only hostile ones had been the bonemen, mistmen, and wrathmen. The more normal souls mostly just sat around and complained about things, which wasn't the most threatening thing unless you counted boredom from their repetitiveness.

"How does a soul get turned into these different types of minions though?"

The soul brought a hand up and scratched its head as it tried explaining.

"Now I am not certain on all the details since I haven't done it myself, but I can tell you my theories. One must willingly go to the Chapel of Love and bathe in the manabeams there which will cause the transformation. The bonemen seem to be the ones most detached from the world and their self. They can talk, but basically only repeat the same mantra of 'We die. We prey. We Live. We serve.' Through their selfless service, they gain immortal existence. The Mistmen are basically ghosts. They are more talkative, but terrible conversationalist. They do seem to see beauty in the Soul Cairn though and see it as a type of eternal paradise. Finally, we have the Wrathmen. They are the most tragic of the lot. They hate this world and see it as a place of eternal death. Basically, they are pissed off about their entire existence."

The last bit about the wrathmen stuck with Rictus as he looked on at the soul which used to be Assur. Living in perpetual rage was no way to spend eternity.

"You didn't actually say what determines the soul's transformation."

The soul looked surprised for a moment.

"Huh. I guess I didn't. Basically, my theory is it is all about a soul's perspective on life before and during the transformation. If one is more detached and selfless, they become a boneman. If one is more appreciative of the beauty around them and looking forward to eternal bliss, they become a mistman. If they are angry and hateful at their lot in life, they become a wrathman. Also, before you say anything, I don't know why they are all called man instead of woman. Maybe because human ends in man? Don't really know nor care though since it isn't my problem."

Rictus stood there in silence as he tried processing everything shared with him. It did a great job of capturing his attention and distracting him from the problem before him if nothing else. He wasn't entirely sure he agreed with everything the soul had told him, but it was an interesting outlook on things. It made him wonder how much of it was true and how much was fabricated. It was all well and good to claim the Ideal Masters weren't so bad, but it could be false. The Nazi's didn't exactly go around and claim that they were the bad guys either.

Rictus continued watching the repetitive actions of the wrathman before him while wondering how much of the boy he once knew was left. A strange feeling pulsed through the room while he was waiting though. The soul beside him spoke out after it passed.

"Hmm. Seems all the Keepers were destroyed. Don't think Durnehviir will care for that."

Rictus tensed as he heard this. He didn't have much time to figure out a plan of action since he needed to meet back up with Serana and Alucard. The soul's words drew his attention though.

"Good luck with you struggles here. Sometimes there are no easy solutions. Not everyone can be saved. It was nice talking with you though, not everyone here is as open to talk about the lore. Oh, and I do so hope you can give our mutual acquaintance the same treatment as last time you two interacted."

With those words and a wink, the soul disappeared leaving Rictus alone with his thoughts. His final words gave him a sinking suspicion on who he had just been talking with and who might show up again. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Rictus knew what he should do here. Steady and deliberate steps brought him further into the room and towards its only other occupant. As he neared, it looked over at him with hate filled eyes.

"Cheated! Betrayed! Deceived! You promised! But you lied! Forever!"

Each word felt like nails piercing his very spirit, but still he continued on. A roar of rage came from the wrathman as it charged him. Before it got any closer, two long steel bars appeared behind Rictus and shot towards it. Instead of stabbing into it, they wrapped around it and trapped it against the ground. Rictus stared down with sadness.

"I am sorry Assur."

Words failed him as he got choked up looking at the twisted creature beneath him. More hate filled words came from it then.

"How could you ever understand my pain? You know NOTHING. You understand NOTHING! I see all, feel all, suffer all, HATE all, FOREVER! You know NOTHING! I LAUGH at your pity. You CHEATED me! I HATE you!"

Weathering the heated words, Rictus pulled an old and tattered brown leather-bound book from his storage. The title read 'Book of Rest and Endings.' It was something Rictus had found a while ago stashed away in the Arcanaeum when he was searching for information about the Soul Cairn. He had never really expected to use it but was glad he had it now. As he turned past obscure passages of cult blather, he landed on a worn page before he stared speaking in a solemn tone while releasing control of his mana.

"From Fifty Fathers

Fozen in slavepast

Rip from the wraithloom

Sunder the lifeweave

Lock tight in earthgrip

Hold firm in gravefast"

As the last word of the Ritual for Ending of Wrathmen was spoken, the wrathman which was once Assur stopped struggling. The burning hatred in its eyes dimmed as it stared at him. No words were spoken as its body shuddered as if something changed internally. The light coming from the body slowly started fading as small motes of darkness lifted from it. An almost peaceful look came upon Assur and Rictus swore a look of recognition and gratitude could be seen in his eyes before fully fading away into dust.

A soft but pleased voice came from behind him.

"Finally, my son can rest."

When he turned around though, nothing was there. Rictus stood alone with his thoughts in the darkness. The Ritual from the book would free the bonds holding the wrathman bound to the Ideal Masters, at least that is what it appeared to do. Where Assur's soul now went, he didn't exactly know. Wherever it was though, he was certain it was better than the perpetual rage, hate, and servitude found here. It was a shame he could not do more for Assur or Thaena, but not everything ended happily.

A careful bump against his hand made him realize he wasn't alone as he started petting Billy in appreciation. Billy may just be a familiar, but Rictus didn't much care and appreciated the comfort it brought. After numerous pets, a distant roar drew him from his thoughts as a determined expression appeared on his face and he clenched his fists. He was tired of this place and ready to leave this place behind him. A fight where he could relieve some of his built-up frustrations sounded good right about now. Without another word, he turned and left the mausoleum for good.

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[AN]: I did make up a fair amount of things here, but a lot of it was pulled from An Elder Scrolls Legend: Battlespire. There were some really cool things in that game regarding the Soul Cairn which I found to be really cool. I also read a reddit post by BanditoWalrus called "Eternity, Peace, and Love: Lore-Mining the Soul Cairn" which I thought was awesome so I incorporated it into my story since I felt the Soul Cairn was a little lackluster in Skyrim compared to Battlespire.

Also, sorry for no chapter last week, but I was on vacation.