Late Merethic Era
More than 4,500 years before the birth of the Last Dragonborn
Falmereth / Skyrim
A Few Days Later
Feator Kaslana
Bastards!
Complete fucking idiots!
Instead of using their damn brains and trying diplomacy!
Instead of at least issuing an ultimatum!
Instead of taking hostages if they were so eager to flex their muscles!
Nooo, the royal gang just had to butcher an entire city down to the very last inhabitant!
Sure, I understood how dangerous the Eye of Magnus was.
The waves of magic radiating from it had been wreaking absolute havoc on every mage—and therefore every Snow Elf—but…
total genocide?
Against people we’d lived alongside peacefully, traded with, and generally maintained perfectly normal relations with?
Yeah…
Even the Northern Mage Tower had unequivocally spoken out in favor of extermination…
Seriously, how the hell did the only voice of reason in this situation turn out to be the damned religion?
Why were the people who, back in my own world, usually committed the worst atrocities ever somehow the most reasonable bunch in Tamriel…?
“Ahh…” I sighed, putting on a mournful expression as I shook my head.
“Did the destruction of the human city upset you that much?” Vaysi asked, mild confusion showing in her blue eyes.
“It was certainly a rather shortsighted decision, but…
it was justified.
You may not have felt the Eye of Magnus tearing us apart, but you saw what it was doing to everyone else.”
“It’s not that it upset me…” I chose my words carefully, trying not to invite unnecessary suspicion.
“It’s just that it was far too risky.
What if those humans had done something to the Eye out of desperation?
You heard what the mages who saw it were saying—a thing like that could send the entire northern part of the continent to the bottom of the sea.
It would’ve been much easier to obtain it through diplomacy.”
“And if those short-ears refused to hand it over?” the blue-eyed elf asked.
“The southerners enslave them outright.”
“Oh?
And where did this sudden appeal to the southerners come from?” I chided my distant relative, making the tips of her ears turn slightly pink while her gaze darted away.
“As for refusing…
then we could’ve carried out a precise strike instead of wholesale slaughter.
We’re not so weak that we have to sneak in under cover of night.
Why did we let them build a city in the first place if we were just going to destroy it anyway?
It would’ve been much easier to wipe them out before they finished their fortifications.
There would’ve been no need to spy on their plans or trade with them to do it—assuming the trade was even for that purpose.
In short, what saddens me is the complete lack of logic in the royal army’s actions.
What’s the point of being just as foolish as the people we wiped out?
We’ve always been smarter than they were, so why stoop to their level…?”
“So that’s what you meant…” Vaysi exhaled, giving my words some serious thought.
As for me…
At that moment, I was hoping Ysgramor hadn’t survived after all.
I had no doubt the royal family could conceal the massacre from any other humans who might arrive later, but if the leader of Saarthal and the now-burned fleet survived, he could prove to the other humans what had happened.
They were medieval Vikings, not people hardened by a century of modern propaganda back on Earth.
They didn’t need evidence—they just needed someone charismatic enough to convince them of anything.
“…and if anyone managed to escape…” I voiced my suspicions aloud.
“A lot more of those short-ears could return from Atmora.
We have no idea how many there are over there.
We already took casualties during the assault on Saarthal.
But if even more humans come back seeking revenge…”
“You think we’ll lose?” my companion asked, fixing me with a look of cold indignation.
“Vaysi, Vaysi.
Where are these suspicions coming from?
I’m not afraid of losing—I’m afraid of the pointless deaths of the elves who’ll bear the brunt of the avengers’ attack.
How do the royals justify their actions again?” I began explaining my reasoning, being somewhat disingenuous, though not actually lying.
“That the life of one of us is worth more than hundreds of those short-ears—and all the southerners’ slaves besides?
Then how does that square with the fact that because of a handful of humans we slaughtered, even more Snow Elves may end up dying?”
“That…” The adorable little thing froze, unable to argue.
She had never been lacking in brains—not even close.
Which was exactly why she didn’t rush to reject what I’d said.
“…makes sense.”
“Exactly.
And massacring defenseless women and children goes against a Knight-Paladin’s honor.” I offered a far more convincing justification for my opposition to such actions.
After all, this was the High Middle Ages—or perhaps even the Dark Ages—and humanism was hardly in vogue.
Especially not where members of another race were concerned, one that truly was different from the elves, unlike the Germans and Jews in my own history.
There, it had all been one race—human—and every attempt to build an ideology around racial superiority had been fundamentally absurd.
“All right.
Fine.” She exhaled, folding her arms across her chest.
“I understand your position now.
But isn’t it time we got moving?”
“I can’t stand dungeons.
Especially after the pilgrimage—you know that.” I grimaced at the cave entrance where, according to the ranger scouts, several giants were hiding.
They, too, had come from Atmora aboard their enormous ships, though their level of civilization was even lower than that of the local Vikings.
As a result, there was effectively a standing bounty on their heads, with offered paid in every city for killing them.
Highly resistant to magic, they also possessed monstrous physical strength, making them formidable opponentsin battle.
After all, not every Snow Elf settlement was large enough to fend off such creatures without suffering losses.
And that was without even mentioning that giants had no qualms about eating elves and humans alike.
May Auri-El watch over your path, and may your support keep this tale alive.