From Traversing Tamriel
7 Sun’s Dusk, 4E201
I am growing increasingly frustrated with the Dawnguard. Isran can talk a strong stand, but he and his entourage seem unable to make one. More and more of what the Dawnguard should be doing is being left to me.
Serana and I spent our time in Solitude recovering from our time in the Soul Cairn, then it was once again time to walk across the entire province to Fort Dawnguard. We were accosted by an over-ambitious Dunmer bandit who wisely took my hint to walk away and an old Orsimer who, seeking death, did not. Between Serana and I he met his death mercifully quickly.
As we approached the crossroad between Solitude and Markarth we were attacked by another Dark Brotherhood assassin. Is the Order summoning their people from all across Tamriel? How many can they possibly have left in Skyrim by now? This is getting to be less of a threat and more of a farce. If I knew how to solve this baffling riddle once and for all, I would.
We continued south through the crossroads, electing to save time by passing through the ruin of Helgen. To my surprise the place was empty, no fresh-faced group of bandits had yet occupied it since the last had been exterminated, though I suspect it will not remain so for very long.
It was with this in mind that I started thinking about the depleted Imperial Legion. Perhaps if they were more effective or more numerous Skyrim would not be so plagued by lawlessness. Not for the first time I considered traveling (back!) to Solitude to see about joining. I am sure the few hundred years since my last enlistment will not count against me.
But that was not to occur today. In fact, not much occurred today. The walk from Helgen to Fort Dawnguard, as long as it always has been, was completely without incident.
The vigilant Dawnguard were patrolling the Fort’s grounds, doing no good for anyone else in Skyrim. They even know where the vampire clan lives, yet are content to stay at their mostly-vacant castle and let me do everything for them.
Dexion Evicus was even less helpful than the other Dawnguard members. The little reading he had done for us previously had blinded him while Serana and I were trapped inside the Soul Cairn trying to retrieve the last Scroll. Now that we had it, he could not read it. A lesser Khajiit might have stabbed him.
Of course there was a work-around and only I, an unhappily immortal Khajiit, was able to do it. The blind priest told me of places of ancient magic scattered across Tamriel known to his order as ‘Ancestor Glades’. Performing the ‘Ritual of the Ancestor Moth’ should provide me the temporary ability to read from a Scroll.
I had never heard of such a ritual before, nor of such places. The ritual itself is bizarre: I must use a special knife to cut a piece of bark from a tree in the ‘Ancestor Glade’, which will attract Ancestor Moths around me. Once enough are gathered around me, I will somehow gain the temporary sight to safely read an Elder Scroll.
After he explained the ritual, Dexion Evicus pointed out that there was a possibility none of it would work for me. The only way to find out, of course, was to travel to the Glade, find the special knife buried somewhere about the area, cut the bark, attract the moths, then unroll the Scroll to see if I would be struck irreparably blind.
I had some issues with this plan.
Dexion Evicus went on to theorize that the Scrolls have a will of their own and that they wanted to be found by me…an unsettling thought. But if that is true, I expect they will want to be read by me as well. I can only hope. An infinite life, blind, is not a pleasant one to live, though I suppose I would grow used to it eventually.
Skyrim’s Ancestor Glade was somewhat south-east of Falkreath, not the worst journey the priest could have asked for. But it is already too late to set out again to my comfort, so Serana and I will spend the night in Fort Dawnguard and proceed with this strange request tomorrow.