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The Wrath of Heaven

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 A modern Girl Ends up in Thedas. Shoved into the world she loves so much, she must learn to adjust and survive. Sounds easier than it is                                                                                             


 

The light was the worst.

Here, in this realm of Oblivion known to the mortals as Apocrypha. Realm of Hermaeus Mora- the daedric prince of fate, knowledge and memory.Apocrypha was an endless library, with shelves stretching onward in all directions, stacks on top of stacks. Every book had a black cover with no title. Seekers and Lurkers move through the stacks, rifling through books, eternally searching for the knowledge they sought whilst living. The realm was filled with mist and fog as well as seas of acid-like water, encompassed by a dark green atmosphere. The only known resident other than various Seekers and Lurkers was Malfurion – The great Dragonborn, Slayer of Alduin and Miraak, Champion of several Deadric Princes, Nightingale and Archmage to the College of Winterhold. The tall Altmer strode past a group of Seekers and turned left at the next possibility. He didn´t know how much time had passed since Hermaeus Mora locked him in his realm after his fight with Miraak. It must have been ages. He turned right, the door opened for him. This room had been Miraaks ages ago. Now it belonged to the Dragonborn. Even here was the ever present green sick light. Malfurion disagreed with everyone who said that silence was worse. It was quiet but not silent in Apocrypha. The sound of the water or the rustling of pages could be heard in every part of the realm. The light however was the bad part. It never changed and was ever present. This was only a guess, but Malfurion thought that the light hindered him from getting any sleep. The longer he stayed in here the more he came to understand Miraak. The first Dragonborn had been so desperate to find a way out of here and it was Malfurion who had hindered him. He touched the golden Seeker like mask from the first dragonborn resting on the table before him following the trace of the squid like tentacles. A Seeker strode in his room and he glanced at the creature from the corner of his eye. The creature stretched one of his arms out and the dragonborn sighted. He reached for a book on the table, handing it to it. Once again he wondered if it was due to the fact that he was dragonborn that he was mostly resistant to the effects of Apocrypha. Usually all those who venture there would become prisoners of their own thirst for knowledge and were unable to leave, but Malfurion appeared to be unaffected- if you count out the fact that he hadn't slept in ages. He was tired, so tired of this place. Again he asked himself what Paarthunax, Odahviing, Serana and Gelebor the snow elf were doing. Skyrim and the Empire had changed drastically over the years. Only two years after his disappearance had the Daggerfall Covenant, and the Ebonheart Pact, formed anew. Together with the remnants of the Stormcloaks they had declared war against the Aldmeri Dominion.

The Ebonheart Pact formed from the Nords, Dark Elves, and Argonians as well as some Seaelfes, and the Daggerfall Covenant made up from the Bretons, Redguards, and Orcs had fought fiercely against the Kajiit, Wood- and Highelfs. But in the end it had all been for nothing. Because from under the earth prepared the twisted Falmer for war. The already weakened Empire and forces had been struck by surprise, when a flood of Falmer had overrun them.Malfurion´s plea for helping his friends had fallen on deaf ears. The Deadric Prince had completely ignored him back then and continued this until now. The only thing that Mafurion knew was, that Soltstheim had completely shut of by Mora. No one went there anymore and if they dared to enter the mist clouded Island they never came back. With this deed Mora had struck down Malfurions efforts to get out of Apocryoha. A few years ago Malfurion had done the same like Miraak and had begun taking over the still lingering people of Solstheim using the All-Maker Stones. Mora however had turn this effort also to dust.After countless other attempts over the ages, Malfurion had almost given up.Sighting he stood up from the chair and walked to the bed. He sat down on it and closed his eyes, knowing fully well that no sleep would came to him. The green light was ever present. Groaning he let himself fall on the bed and buried his head in the pillow.

He woke up to the sound of someone shifting nearby. Feathers rustling and the sound of two ravens. He jolted up from his bed a lightning spell in his hand. On the chair across from the bed to him sat a figure. A man, cloaked in Mage robes and a raven on each shoulder- One with red the other with golden eyes. Malfurion took a quick look at his surroundings. It was his chambers in Apocrypha and jet not. The air felt a little different and from the corner of his eyes shifted the scenery. Not enough he could properly see it but he had the vague image of a room with daylight and bookshelves stretching on. When he tried to focus on the other image however , it faded away only to reappear somewhere else. He turned his full attention back to the man with the Ravens. His face was shadowed from the hood and all Malfurion could see was that the man said something. However no words were coming out. >> Who are you? What is this place?<< he asked and the man answered something but again came no words to Malfurions ears. The man and ravens seemed displeased. He said again something but was interrupted from a booming voice:

>> Dragonborn!!!<< Hermaeus Mora´s voice had never sound so angry. Malfurion jolted up from his bed only to be eye to eye with a grotesque mass of tentacles and a large green eye gazing at him.

>> My..my lord?!<< Malfurion asked staggered and tried to bring a little distance between the Daedric Prince and himself, in his rare dealings with mortals, Hermaeus often choosed to appear as a grotesque mass of tentacles.

Moras voice turned from angry to silky smooth, seductive and dangerous at the same time >>Tell me, Dragonborn...where have you been?<<

>>My Lord?<< he asked, confusion clearly showing on his face. He had been here all along, after sitting on the bed, he had laid down and then...? Was that a dream? Did I sleep? Who was that? All those thoughts rushed trough his head as a thick green tentacle lifted to his face. Remembering fully well what Hermaeus Mora had done to Storn Crag-Strider- back then in the village of the Skaal in Soltsheim-, he moved further backwards, his back pressed flat against the wall of the room. The Tentacle touched his forehead in an almost gently gesture and the eye went wide for a moment.

>> Hmm....<< The Tentacle stretched and another slid around his chest. Malfurion got lifted up a bit and he tried heavy against his instincts not to shout, it would only be best if he cooperated now.

>>Hmmm....-Mora said again and lifted the Dragonborn up to his big eye. There is something there...some sort of...magic perhaps?<<

The prince rolled the dragonborn around like a child exploring a new toy or some new unknown identity. And finally Malfurion had enough after he felt a tentacle slipping up his arms. >>FEIM ZII GRON<< The Thu'um reached out to the Void, changing Malfurions form to a ghost, which could not be harmed or use harm. Like a piece of soap he slipped out of Moras grasp and landed on the floor.

>>Feim Zii Oblaan<< Mora said with a yawn and as soon as the Deadric prince had used the Thuúm Malfurion returned to his usual form.

>>What was...?<< But the Daedric Prince had already left. >>That about?<< Malfurion finished his sentence, knowing that he would not get an answer anytime soon.

 


 

A heavy amount of curses in a language I didn´t know compared with frustrated shouts came out from my headset and interrupted me in writing this new Fanfiction. >> You lost?<< I asked calmly in the microphone and waited for my boyfriend and his best friend (who was also some sort of my boss) to answer. >> Yes....<< Chris, my boyfriend sounded angry and frustrated. >> Why are there only Idiots online at that time?<< Alexander his best friend ( and also my boss) asked frustrated and I already heard the familiar sound of him opening something to eat.

I smiled. It was always the same with the guys. Every time they played Fifa they swore and cursed and said they hated the game, just to press the X button to continue it.

It was Friday evening and I sat in my bed, Laptop on the knees while my Playstation 4 hummed softly. Originally we had planned to play some Destiny 2 to get the Raid done, but thanks to my Epilepsie I couldn't play today. The fast movements and attacks compared with the Light from the AI were sometimes to much for my brain and so I had to turn them down. But it was okay for them. So they had decided to play a little Fifa (already going at it for 2 hours) while I sat before my Laptop and wrote down the new story.

>> YES!!!<< The excited shout from my boyfriend came trough the headset and I chuckled. My gaze wandered down to the clock on my Laptop. >> Guys we already have 3am. I think I´m done for today...<< I said and tried to suppress yawn.

Laughther filled my ears. They knew that if I was tired nothing would keeping me from going to bed. I wished Alexander good night and told him that the review for Vampyr was finished tomorrow. To tell the truth, it was already finished but my dear boyfriend would always co read it to look for any spelling mistakes. I logged off with the promise that we would try tomorrow to play the Raid. Then my boyfriend called and we talked for a few minutes. He smiled and I grinned at him when we both said I Love You at the same time. Then we wished for a good night and I hung up. I knew it would still be some time before he would also log out and go to bed. Sighting I placed the dirty clothes in the washer and turned it on for tomorrow morning. Then I turned to the sink, brushed my teeth and walked only in my short pants and top on my balcony looking for my cat. She had not been here for a while.

It was already getting cold outside. I glanced at the poster on the wall in my kitchen. “Winter is coming”.

>> Azrael!<< (my boyfriend had named her after the cat from Gargamel) The answer came, but not from outside. Angry I walked to the door and grabbed my mobilephone and my keys. My stupid neighbor must have looked the girl in the cellar again.

The light was still not fixed six days ago it had cease its function.

My cat purred happy and jumped on my arm once I opened the door to the cellar. I stopped at the door to my neighbors cellar it was unlocked and the door stood a little open a soft green light came from it. Curious I opened the door and walked inside. Like expected.... Everything was full with cosplay stuff. I made light with my mobile phone and smiled. I knew she worked on Dragon age and Skyrim stuff. One particular object caught my full attention. I smiled as I stepped closer and realized what it was. The Orb from Solas. I touched it and smiled. It was well done. The next object was Auriel´s Bow. I let my gaze wander around Lea surely was a good Cosplayer. >> Well then time to go to bed right?<< I closed the door and walked upstairs. Once I was in my own apartment I stroked Azraels soft black fur walked to my bed and soon darkness took me.


 

>> Dragonborn...where have you been?<<

That voice.....it sounded familiar....

>>Hmmm....This strangely familiar voice said again and I felt how I got lifted up. There is something there...some sort of...magic perhaps?<<

God I was so tired. With great effort I managed to open one eye but closed it instantly again. I was dreaming yes. That was it. Or why else should Hermaeus Mora´s eye look at me.

>>Nahl Daal << I managed to say grinning then darkness took me again.

>> Tell me why we shouldn’t kill her now. The Conclave is destroyed. Everyone who attended is dead. Except for her.<<

Slowly I furrowed my brows. I also did know this voice. But I was so sleepy and my hand hurted like hell. I shifted it a little and a cold hand touched mine. The pain slowed down a little then darkness took me again.

Cold. Fucking cold. I hated it. Shivering I tried to curl myself together and tried to reach for my warm blanket, but there was none.

Slowly I opened my grey -green -blue eyes. My long lashes fluttered and my brows knitted together in confusion. I knew this place. I knew it very well. Countless times had I restarted Dragon Age Inquisition, this was where the Game started. I tried to move and realised that I had not much room to do so. I was tightly chained to the wall. I starred down at my left hand.

>> CREATORS, MAKER, OLD GODS FUCK!!!<< There was it. The anchor. Shining green and burning like hell in my hand.

 

 

Chapter Text

Whoever said dying was peaceful lied. Malfurion- the great Dragonborn knelt at the summit of Apocrypha with Hermaeus Mora piercing his chest with one of his tentacles. Right before him stood the Daedric Princes knew Champion. The Kajit´s black fur was wet from the battle and clung to his body, the man looked exhausted, but pleased. He knelt down to the Altmers face, grabbed his chin and smiled. >> You are nothing but a relic of a time long gone. Now, you will give my master what he wants. Your secret.<<

Darkness ate at his vision, but Malfurion could still make the hooded figure out, that stood behind the Kajit. Whoever that person was, had watched him for ages now but the dragonborn had never managed to hear what the man was saying to him.

Blood filled his throat and he coughed, grabbing the green sticky tentacle and managed to push himself a little up.

>>L....like I s...said before. I don't have any....anything to share.<< he managed to say coughing more blood up and soiled the fur of the Kajit with it.

>>Liar, do you really think you can hide anything from me Dragonborn? I will know your secret and why you are not really here when you are in your room. ANSWER MENOW<< Mora shouted and stabbed the Dragonborn again with tentacles. Malfurion felt how they pierced trough his armor and how the Daedric prince tore trough his legs and arms.

The Kajit in the meanwhile had let go of the Altmer before him, stood back and watched how the Daedric prince brought the Altmer up to his eye. Malfurion screamed in agony as the Prince tore trough his body. Of course he had countless battles and even more scars fought and received, but nothing even compared to the pain, both physically and mentally the Daedric prince put him trough. Malfurions body started to shook violently as the Prince rumored trough his memories. Darkness so black and final began to eat at his vision again when he saw the familiar figure again the man had moved closer andstood not to far away from the Kajit, both ravens on his shoulders and looked at him.

 

>> Deceit, Fear<< Dirthamen commanded his two loyal ravens and both flew up from his masters shoulders.

>> I´ll take the Kajit...<<Fear said giggling ,starting to circle over the head of the man.

>> And we the Prince<< Deceit said with a snarling voice and landed on the head of the dying Dragonborn.

The Keeper of secrets, Dirthamen had always been some sort of protector, just like Mythal. He took a watchful eye over the people and those who came to him for knowledge. It was the same this time. He had reached again beyond the Vail and this world countless times before, but with each time it had got more and more exhausting. Especially know when he was in this state June and Andruil had put him. The keeper of secrets body was still recovering from the battle with the other Evanuris, back then when Mythal had been murdered. When June had run his sword trough Dirthamen, he had only survived thanks to Deceits powers.

Dirthamen rolled his shoulders and prepared himself for the fight. If he wanted to save Thedas, and his close Friend he would need allys.Powerfull ones. One was already in Thedas, a girl from a world called earth, were no magic existed. She was the keystone for the Dread Wolf and his salvation. The Dragonborn would be the ally they needed.  The demons Deceit and Fear now worked together against the Daedric Prince. Fear had dealt with the Kajit, the man was on the ground curled up into a ball and whimpered like a child.


 

In a different location two Daedric Princes sat around a table across from each other, the table full of cheese and sweet rolls.

>>More tea, Jyggalag my dear?<< Sheogorath, the Deadric Prince of Madness asked cheerful, lifting the teapot slightly shaking it so that the liquid inside splashed on the table.

>> Oh no I couldn't drink anymore. Besides, I have so many things to do. I haven't slept in three days.<<

>> You are far too hard on yourself, my dear, sweet, Prince of Order. What would the others do without you? Dance? Sing? Smile? Grow old? Or perhaps plan another invasion. Or how they can curse you again. You know, I would watch that whole sordid affair. Marvelous time! A few Deadric Princes gathering again against you, blood, a curse, a few severed heads... Oh, and the cheese! To die for.<<

Jyggalags face turned into a grimace of disgust and he placed his Teacup down on the table with enough force to shatter it into pieces.

Sheogorath was however unimpressed, he hummed a song and watched how a spoon and a fork danced around his plate.

It may have been a few ages ago when the Hero of Kvatch had ended the Oblivion Crisis and had freed the Deadric Prince of Order from his curse, but Jyggalag still hold a grudge against the other Princes.

>> I was not always so. Once, I ruled this Realm, a world of perfect Order. My domain expanded across the seas of Oblivion with each passing era. The other Princes, fearful of my power, cursed me with Madness, doomed me to live as Sheogorath, a broken soul reigning in a broken unknow realm. Once each era, I was allowed my true form, conquering this realm anew. And each time I did, the curse was renewed, damning me to exist as Sheogorath.<< The Prince spat the words out like they were poison. >> And know look at my Realm. In my absence it has succumbed to this.<< He gestured to a mirror, showing different locations from Thedas.

>>Now, though, I have ended the cycle. I now hold the mantle of madness, and you are free to wander the realms of Oblivion, the fade once more.<< Sheogorath said completely serious and in a different tone. Jyggalag raised an eyebrow. It was rare that the new Daedric Prince of madness got serious and showed traces of his former mortal side.

>> To be honest I am asking myself why exactly you are still lingering here.<<

Jyggalag kept silent for a few heartbeats, then when Sheogorath didn't expect an answer anymore, answered the other Prince with a sight.

>> I am still to weak and this Vail keeps me from entering my realm. However, my champion will help me.<<

>> Is that so, in that case, shall we look how he is doing?<< Sheogorath snapped his finger and the mirror changed to the image of Dirthamen and his ravens battling an enraged Harmaeus Mora.

>> My, my he is doing pretty well....However he is not at his full strength, maybe we should help him?<<


 

The light of the candle together with the fire was just enough to give Varric enough light to write everything down. He sat with his back leaned on the wand of the Tavern in Haven. The Dwarf was focusing on Solas, the elven apostate who stood on the fireplace, starring absently in the flames. Varric could practically see the wheels turning in the elf´s head and Varric didn´t blame him for it. Two hours ago, a group of soldiers had encountered a group of bandits. They had quickly took care of them, after that they had wanted to continue, but Eros the Mabari from the captain didn´t want to go any further. He smelled something and tried to push a soldier away from the path. Knowing that the dog was pretty stubborn the soldier had followed him. A few feet away from the path, behind a bush opened a small rift and something came out. The first thing the soldier noticed was that the man was completely nude and the second that his skin and hair was from a yellow, golden shade. Calling his other comrades over, they had wrapped the unconscious and heavily wounded man in the warm wolf fur the captain had brought from his package, then they had returned to Haven as fast as they could. Like before with the woman, no one knew who he was and neither had Solas or anyone else knowledge from an elf with such a strange skin tone.

 

Chapter Text

Sorry for the delay, but I just had a lot of things to do so I unfortunatly I couldn´t make the update on Friday and furthermore its a short chapter. I hope you all will forgive me for that. But please enjoy this Chapter and leave me a commemt. It helps and they are appreciated. 

 


 

 

A cold wind came from the Frostback mountains, carrying snow with it. Dirthamen leaned against the tree and moved his cape closer around him as he watched, shielded from a spell, how the soldiers gathered around the unconscious Malfurion. The Dragonborn was nude and had still the wounds from the battle with the Kajiit and Harmeaus Mora. The Altmer looked horrible with holes punched trough his legs, arms and chest, yet somehow he was still alive. If it was thanks to the Dragonsouls the Altmer had in him or maybe because of Jyggalags and Sheogorath´s divine will? The Keeper of Secrets had no answer to that and honestly he didn´t care much, he was just glad that the Altmer, his trumpcard was still alive.

The Captain brought a wolf pelt from his package and carefully the soldiers wrapped the man in it and then carried him to Haven.

>>It begins...<< Deceit said loud, sitting in the branches of the tree above Dirthamens head and shifted uncomfortable in the wind, fluffed his feathers against the wind.

>>Yes, now we have all the figures we need....<< Dirthamen grew silent for a moment, looking after the disappearing soldiers and then up to the breach.

>> We should go back. I need sleep<<

Deceit moved from the tree down to his Masters shoulders and let out a sight. >> I wonder what the Dread wolf will do now.<<

>> We will see. For now all we can do is to instruct and teach both of them, Malfurion and that girl. <<

 


 

He could hear them. Voices in the darkness surrounding him. Each one of them loud and impossible to understand.

He had lost the feeling of his body and after a few moments or an eternity, he really didn't know, was there no difference between himself, the darkness and the voices.

That state went on for minutes or hours or years maybe decades? But finally there was a flicker of light and then the blackness turned into a soft grey.

 

Slowly he opened his eyes. Malfurion stood in an ever on stretching lake with just a few inches of water.

A few meters away from him stood a tall man, with his back to Malfurion and apparently gazed out into the black night sky.

The water rippled softly as Malfurion took a step forward. The man turned around his hands clasped thightly behind his back and gazed at him from under his golden seeker like mask.

>>Miraak, what is this place? Is this the afterlife or again some cruel joke from a Deadric Prince?<<

The first Dragonborn shrugged his shoulders and took a step forward in the direction of Malfurion.

>> I myself have no clear idea. So maybe it is a new trap from Mora.<<

 

>>Nid Dovahkiin, hi los folaas<< a deep voice, accompanied by large wings moving in the air above them, made both Dragonborns look up.

>>Sahloknir!<< The ground rumbled as the massive beast landed on the ground.

>> Daar golt los ko him rii<< Sahloknir explained and moved his tail around himself.

>> Ah, of course...the soul...<< Miraak said and examined the area once more, this time even more curious than before.

>>My soul?<< Malfurion asked perplex and the big dragon before him nodded, a gesture which looked strange.

>> Geh, dovahkiin. Daar los fin golt kolos mu los.<<

Seeing the confusion still lingering on Malfurions face, the first Dragonborn turned around once again.

>>According to a book in Apocrypha, it is possible for a Dragonborn to enter his own heart or soul. It is in that place where the dragons are. That would explain why I am here as well. Since I have the soul of a dragon as well it is only natural that Iam here.<<


 

It was quiet in the Chantry of Haven. Candles flickered in the rush of air, when the two mages walked past them on their way to the dungeons. Solas accompanied from a healer opened the wooden door leading to the stairs and the dungeons below. Cold air mixed with a terrible stench bit into his nose and the elfen apostate wrinkled his nose slightly in disgust. The healer next to him moved his scarf over his mouth and nose and groaned. Thex had covered the wounds from the golden elf with a mixture Leliana had brought them. According to her it was knowledge from the Tevinter Imperium and would help against deadly injuries.

The brown thick stuff helped indeed, but it stenched like a corpse rotting since weeks.

Solas raised an eyebrow, when he spotted the familiar figure of Cassandra and Varric standing before the cell of the golden elf.

Both, human and dwarf looked up. >> Ah, chuckles. Right on time. I think this fellow here wakes up.<< Varric said, his voice muffled from his own scarf.

The healer opened the cell with Cassandras key and knelt down to the man. His yellow-golden skin tone had strengthened over the two weeks, hen the soldiers had brought the strange elf to Haven, had his skin tone looked more white than yellow,golden. Now he loked better and his wounds were healing rather quickly. The healer examined the elf once again, while Solas and Cassandra discussed something about a rift appearing near Haven.

 

In the meanwhile Varric had decided to look for the other prisoner, the woman with the mark.

He was about to open the door when he hear a shocked scream from inside: >> CREATORS, MAKER, OLD GODS FUCK!!!<<

 

The sound of the door opening distracted me from the green Anchor in my hand and I looked up.

>> You know, some would call that blasphemy...<< Varric said smiling and stepped closer.

 

Chapter Text

Smoke from the fires on the battlefield clouded the vision of the people on it and screams from the wounded or dying echoed over the burnt land. The towering Qunari stormed trough the forces of Tevinter. He pushed a mage out of the way and jumped over a corpse on the ground, his remaining eye focused on a Mage with a ridiculous grey mask on his face. He must be the leader of the Humans. He dodged a few more Mages and avoided a sword, then he was trough and grabbed the man by his throat lifting him up. The man buried his nails in the grey flesh of the Qunari, leaving bloody marks on them, but the Qunari didn´t even flinch. He brought his left hand up to punch the man, when a roar from ahead distracted him from the man.

Trough the clouds of smoke moved a tall figure. It was still out of clear sight but the Qunari could already hear the screams of the men as they got crushed under mighty foots. A heartbeat later pushed a Giant out of the smoke and roared loud. With a smile the Qunari let the still struggling human mage fall to the ground and reached over his back to grab his battleaxe.

A short run and one jump later tore the sharp edge of the weapon into the scull of the creature. It stood there for a second, giving a last grunt from itself, then he tripped backwards and crashed into the ground.

A flash of green light on the nightsky and then a shookwave accompanied from dry earth, small rocks and sharp stinging stones rushed over the still burning area.

Looking up to the green tear in the sky and the falling meteorites from it the Qunari groaned.

>> It had to be demons..<<

He reached for his axe and removed it from the Giants head resting the weapon on his right shoulder.

>>Chargers! Clean up and clear out! There is money on the horizon!<< The Iron Bull called to his group of mercenarys.


 

At the same time Grand Enchanter Vivenne walked trough the quiet halls of the estate of Duke Bastien de Ghislain, an enraged noble right behind her.

>> MADAME!<< The human grabbed Vivienne´s arm and the Enchanter stooped.

>>Unlike the Empress, we will not be charmed by your tricks!<< The noble got interrupted from a flash of green light and Vivienne reacted immediately, casting a protective barrier over herself and the noble,when the shock wave destroyed the windows, sending sharp glistening shards in every direction.

The curtains moved in the still harsh wind and then they revealed the sight of the Breach. The noble gasped in shook and removed his helmet, tucking it safely under his arm.

>> Alas, it appears more urgent matters demand my attention. Now, run along dear.<< She didn't need to say it twice to the noble. The man stormed down the hallway and trough the door.

 


 Malfurions body was still knocked out. He could feel it. Non the less he and Miraak had found a way out of his heart or mind and stood now in a strange location. 

>>What in Oblivion is this?<< Miraak asked and gazed around. Both Dragonborns, one in the flesh and the other in a shining white- golden spirit form stood in a twisted, frightening world of dark rocks and raw veins of red and blue ore. Dark water gathered in puddles made the already uneven ground slippery and tricky to walk. A sick green light came from the sky and both men growled. It was almost like in Apocrypha. Non the less were sometimes dots of a night sky visible. >> I have no idea!<< Malfurion answered and looked a a rock, the size of Dragonreach floating by. >>It appears that gravity affects nothing here...<<

>> Hmm...<< Miraak took a step forward and took in his surroundings. A movement to the left made him take a closer look.

Next to a broken mirror stood- no levitated an orange small ghost. It looked at them for a second then it was gone.

>> That was...strange...what was that?<< Malfurion asked from behind the first Dragonborn.

>> I do not know either....<<

>> Perhaps we can find our answers there? I have the feeling we might...<< Miraak turned around and looked into the direction, the Altmer pointed out. High above the ground was a massive island with a shadowy metropolis with twisted spires on it.

>> Time to call a dragon....<< Miraak said and Malfurion could hear the smile in his voice.

>>Indeed...Odahviing<< The power of the Thuum rumbled trough this unknown realm like an earthquake. It reached trough the Vail with ease and reached the ears from the Dragon.

 

Odahviing!! Malfurions voice echoed in every corner of Skyrim and even over Soltstheim. The people of Skyrim looked up and around in confusion and fear. Some started to panic, when the same thundering voice accompanied from an ground shacking rumble went again trough Skyrim

Paarthunarx stopped in his conversation with Gelebor as the voice of the Dragonborn reached him and Odahviing. Serana dropped the book she had been reading and jolted up from her chair faster than ever before. The other Dragons which sat or laid in the Forgotten Vale lifted also their heads.

Odahviing let out a roar, his heart feeling lighter since ages. The voice of his close friend rumbled again trough the sky.

>>At last... Auri-el has heard our prayers.<< Gelebor said with a smile.

Paarthunarx grinned wide. A gesture which looked actually terrifying and move one of his large wings over the elf and the female Vampire to protect them from the wind Odaviing created as he ascended into the sky.

>> Odahviing! Bring him home. Wherever he is....<< Serana called out to the Dragon.

Never had Odahviing flew so fast. The voice of the Dragonborn calling out for him was a glimpse of hope in the darkness.

 


 

 

Pillars of sunlight fell trough the window and tried to pierce the dark presence in the whole temple. The temple of Falon´din had many windows ye the light had a hard time here. There was a darkness in the room. Not really visible to the eye but non the less present like always. >>And, did you find anything of interest yet?? Falon´din asked and stepped on the hand of the servant. Moments ago he had nearly killed the boy for bringing him Tea, which he had demanded seconds before. The child on the ground only gasped as the sound of his bones crushing filled the air. Andruil turned away from the window and shook her head. >> No, I don´t. It´s boring all I do is hunting the animals Ghilan'nain creates for me.<< >>How sad. I heard, that Fen´harel slayed one of those things a few nights ago. He was asked by a village to kill a great beast. He came to the beast at dawn, and saw its strength, and knew it would slay him if he fought it. So instead, he shot an arrow up into the sky. The villagers asked Fen'Harel how he would save them, and he said to them, 'When did I say that I would save you?' And he left, and the great beast came into the village that night and killed the warriors, and the women, and the elders.<< Falon´din let out a happy laugh. Then he finally stepped down from the hand of the servant and walked over to the table. The servant quickly moved back in a corner head hold down to the floor and tried to suppress a whimper. Falon´din reached for a glass decanter and took a few gulps then he continued his story:

>> It came to the children and opened its great maw, but then the arrow that Fen'Harel had loosed fell from the sky into the great beast's mouth, and killed it. The children of the village wept for their parents and elders, but still they made an offering to Fen'Harel of thanks, for he had done what the villagers had asked. He had killed the beast, with his cunning, and a slow arrow that the beast never noticed.<<

Andruil sighted and looked at the mess in the room. >> If it had only survived and brought him to me....I would punish and handle the wolf just right.....<<

>> I´m sure you would, my dear. But im afraid you are just not his type.<<

Falon´din glanced at her from the corner of his eyes and waited for a reaction. He loved to tease her with Fen´harel. Andruil longed for the Dread Wolf, although he escaped her over and over again.

His tease had been a full success, because Andruils pale face turned red and her lips white. Her green armor glistened in the sunlight as she rushed to the servant on the floor. Grabbing the boy by the hair and pulling him up. >> Is that how you bring glory to Falon´din, guider to the dead? By letting his temple get dirty with your blood and the tea? Know your place servant! THIS IS A PLACE OF WORESHIP!!<< Anruil roared and underlined every word with a punch.

>>If you are that bored, then maybe I have something for you.<< Falon´din stepped in and placed his hand on her shoulder.

Andruil let go of her victim and let the boy fall to the ground.

Falon ´din reached down tapping the boy with his perfectly manicured nail. >> See this boy? His skin and hair are completely white.<<

>> Yes its a joke from the nature. And?<<

>>I don't think so.... There may be only a handful or so of the white elves, but I have investigated them. Guess what I found?....Nothing. Absolutely nothing of their origin.<<

>> And the point?<< Andruil asked boredom showing clearly on her face.

>> But after some digging I found something.<< Falon´din continued smiling wide.

>> Boy tell me, who do you and your freaks worship again?<<

The child on the floor lifted his head slightly, blood dripping out of his mouth.

>>Jyggalag<< the voice was barely noticeable.

 

Dirthamen sai in a chair next to Falon´din and watched how the fade recreated his memory.

The spirit Falon´din opened his mouth to talk again to Andruil when they got interrupted. >>HOLD<< The whole memory stopped and froze.

Dirthamen raised an eyebrow when a figure appeared at the end of the great hall, walking over to the Spirits humming softly. It was a well-dressed elderly gentleman, clad in a terrible combination of orange and purple. He had white hair that falled to his shoulders in soft waves. The man could easily go for an Orlisian Noble if there were not his eyes. They were similar to a cats eyes, with a golden color and black slits as pupils. He had a walking stick in hs left hand. And even that was disturbing to look at. It was large and made of wood. A big eyeball sat on the staff changing directions of where it looked.

>>Oh, pardon me. Were you saying something? I do apologize, it's just that I find myself suddenly and irrevocably... BORED!<< Sheogorath said with a smile as he passed the still frozen Falon´din.

Dirthamen stood up from his chair to greet the Deadric Prince of Madness.

>> I didn't expect you to visit me so soon. Do you even have the time for that? << Dirthamen asked

>>Time? Time is an artificial construct. An arbitrary system based on the idea that events occur in a linear direction at all times.<< Sheogorath said still smiling and came to a halt before The Keeper of Secrets.

>> How may I help you with....Leto?<< Dirthamen asked and slumped back in his chair.

The former mortal raised an eyebrow. It had been ages since he last heart his real name.

>> Well my dear little mortal....It's soon Jyggalag's time, and not a good time at all. You're going to help me stop it. First, though, you need to get your feet wet. The Greymarch comes, and Jyggalag walks. Or runs. Never skips, sidles, or struts. Mostly, he just destroys everything around him. As you know, he is a Daedric Prince. Not a nice one. I don't think ANY of the other Princes like him, actually. I mean, Malacath is more popular at parties."

Beeing The Daedric Prince of Order. Or biscuits... No. Order. He will walk over his realm and not in a good way. Bleak. Colorless. Dead. Boring, boring, boring.<<

 Dirthamen sighted and buried his face in his hands and remained like this for a few seconds.

>> You know the madness you show is not at all terrifying. The true terrifying thing is, that you -a perfectly sane man holds the mantle of madness. And more so that you are completely fooling the other Deadric Princes with it, including Jyggalag himself.<<

 Sheogorath let out a small laugh and looked at the Evanuris. >> Indeed that is truly terrifying. But as you see it works perfectly well.

Now then, we should talk...<<

 

Chapter Text

What the fuck??? My first thought was that i had again one of those realistic dreams,but then the anchor flared up,sending millions of needels and fire up my arm. Ok so that was clearly not a dream. So WHY and HOW did I get here and  I never had experienced such pain before. My fision went blurry and i was about to pass out. Clutching my hand to a fist didn't help either. Varric said something and another figure entered the room. Carefully a cool hand grabbed mine. Trough the vail of my clouded vision i could make out Grey-blue eyes which looked at me with a mix of great concern and curiosity. Varric's face showed up next to the face of the most handsome elfen apostate, immortal and Evanuris I knew. The anchor flared up again and I gasped as the magic from the Orb tore trough my hand and arm. A soft blue glow came from Solas and seeped into my hand. Immediatelyand the pain in my hand slowed down until it turned into an unpleasant stinging. My fision cleared and i lifted my head again.

I remained in absolute silence and starred at Varric and Solas for a few seconds,admiring the fact that two video game Charakters knelt in the cell before me and second that this was a lot more different than the usual start of the game. Normaly Cassandra and Leliana would enter the cell the future Inquisitor would be in. Now however Varric Tethras, a dwarfen Rouge and story writer and Solas, an elfen apostate and also the tricksters god of the Dalish, Fen' harel himself, knelt before me concern and curiosity on their faces.

>> Uhm, where am I? <<  i asked and decided to stay " confused in charakter" just like Mahanon Lavellan,  my elven Inquisitor. This was clearly not like in the game, so i could change the dialog a little right?

The sound of a sword getting unsheathed accmpanied from heavy steps from the door made both men turn around and every answer they probably would give me die on their tounges. Cassandra stood in the doorway, her face clearly showing a mixture of rage, hurt and mistrust. -Oh Fuck- out of instinct I tried to hide behind Solas and Varric but that didn't help. In an instant she was right before me, her all to real sharp sword at my throat. >>Tell me why I shouldn' kill you know,elf!? << My brain got stuck on the last word she just said. Elf! I was a human...wasn't I?

The sword bit into my throat, >>Uhm.... << I squeaked and tried not to wet my pants. Cassandra was much more angry and terrifying than in the game. 

Solas came to my aid. He placed a hand on Cassandra's arm and pushed it down slightly. >> Please lower that weapon seeker. It is not needed. I'm sure she will be cooperative enough. << If looks could die,then Solas would have dropped dead to the ground now. He however didn' even flinch. After a small starring contest Cassandra finally lowered her sword and stepped back. Relived I let out my breath in a huff. >>Explain yourself and also that. << Cassandra said cold as ice and grabbed my left hand with the anchor. 

Time for some in game dialogue... >> I can't... <<

>>What do you mean you can't?<<

>>I don' know what that is,or where I got it. << I lied, hoping that I could fool Cassandra. Solas however was a different thing. My suspision got proved,when I glanced at him from the corner of my eye. He didn't believe me a singel bit. Well it was not surprising if one woul consider who he really was. In his millennias of Fen'harel he could tell when someone was lying. He noticed my quick look and his face snapped back into that perfect mask of an elfen apostate who only wished to help in the cause of the Breach.  

>>Do you remember what happened? << The soft voice from Leliana came from the door and I jumped startled from her sudden appearance and unexpected question. 

That was a good question. I remembered that I had been at home and in a party with my boyfriend and Alexander. Then I had looked for my cat and had went to bed....but how did i get here? I had no answer to that and I couldn't tell them that I am from another world. 

Quickly I shook my head. Cassandra groaned. 

>>The Conclave from divine Justinia along with the Temple of Sacred Ashed got destroyed.  Everyone who attended is dead. Except for you, snowy. << Varric said with the wonderful voice of his voice actor Brian Bloom.

>>Hold! << the scenery froze. Confused I looked around. Everyone in the room didn' or couldn' move anymore. It was like someone had pressed the hold button. Muss confusion only grew when a portal appeared right before me. It was very familiar.  Three identical looking heads of a man with long hair and a beard.One serious, one laughing and the one in the middle screamed a shining blue portal in the wide open mouth. 

>>Really, do come in. It's lovely in the Isles right now. Perfect time for a visit.<<

 The voice said again and I felt how I got pulled forward and then the gate swallowed me up. 

I found myself in a large dark room with a table and two chairs. I groaned as I realised who sat on the chair with a smile. 

>>This keeps getting stranger by each second.... << I mumbled

 

>>Well, look who's here! You! I'm so happy, I could just tear out your intestines and strangle you with them. I suppose an introduction is in order. I'm Sheogorath, Prince of Madness but you all ready  know that right? And other things. I'm not talking about them. You've probably figured that out by now. Let's hope so. Or we're in real trouble... and out come the intestines. And I skip rope with them! But, perhaps now's not the time. I've been waiting for you, or someone like you, or someone other than you, for some time. I need a champion, and you've got the job. Time to save the Realm! Rescue the damsel! Slay the beast! Or die trying. Your help and the help from that Altmer is required. A change is coming.Cheese? << Sheogorath finished his dialog and handed me a plate with bread and different kinds of Cheese over the table

For the second time on this day in marveled at the fact that a video game character sat before me. However this was no usual mage or Rouge it was Sheogorath a god. My thoughts rushed around in my head and thousands of questions at the same time as well. The man squinted his cat eyes slightly and I instantly got nervous. I remembered the lines he just said. It was when the Player had started the Dlc  Shivering Isles, Bethesdas second Dlc for The Elderscrolls IV Oblivion. But judging from his clothes and voice it was the Sheogorath from Skyrim. 

He titled his head to the left. >>Well..? <<

>>Are....are you the Sheogorath from Skyrim or Jyggalag? << Great just great...here you are talking to a god a Mad one and now you ask from which game he is? Great well done. I cursed inwards. 

>>If you ask who I am mortal then I'm afraid that I don't have a clear answer to that. Like I said I am Sheogorath. Maybe tomorrow I decide to be the Hero of Kvatch... << he closed his mouth and looked at the table really thinking about it. 

>> Hmpf.....what Leto here tries to say, is that maybe the Greymarch is coming if we don' t manage to help Fen'harel. Then we're going to stop it.<< a soft voice came from behind me. 

A tall elfen man with long white hair and pale eyes, dressed in black robes stood behind me two ravens on his shoulders. I starred at him. That must be Dirthamen. It appeared that he wasn' locked in the black city or maybe Sheogorath had got him out. Or he had used deceit. 

>>If you help us, then I will sent you back home mortal. <<

I sighted knowing that I had gone in his trap as he mentioned sending me home. 

 

Chapter Text

Odahviings confusion grew with each passing second. Exhausted from all the different shouts he had used, he finally landed on the top of the Troath of the World. He could hear the voice of his friend. It came from the space where the wound of time had once been but no matter what shout Odahviing had used he just couldn't see or get to Malfurion. The feeling of being watched made the Dragon move his massive head around. Along the mountain had once been a path that spirals all the way up to the summit, beginning at the now destroyed village of Ivarstead, near Lake Geir. People from all over Skyrim had traveled once to Ivarstead to begin a pilgrimage following the path. The path, called the Seven Thousand Steps, would eventually take the pilgrim to High Hrothgar, an ancient monastery that had housed the Greybeards, mortals who practiced the Way of the Voice. Very few had traveled to High Hrothgar, considering the harsh weather. Only adventurers and locals that feed the Greybeards had been to High Hrothgar. Beyond the monastery, there was another path that leads to the summit. However, it should be inaccessible, due to the harsh snowstorms that blew along the path. Jet on a pillar of deformed rocks stood a figure. Clad in dark robes that moved around in the harsh wind. A shudder went trough the dragon as he and the figure watched each other. There was no face visible under the hood just blackness. Two ravens sat on each shoulder and starred at him with red and yellow eyes. Before Odahviing however could talk or shout, disappeared the whole scenery in a terrible flash of green light. Then everything went black.


 

Coldharbour was a very unpleasant place. The dreadful Oblivion plane of Molag Bal, the Lord of Brutality and Domination was a place of death, despair, and infinite cruelty. It resembled that of Nirn, but the ground was nothing more than sludge; the sky constantly burned, and yet the air was beyond freezing. Even an alternative Imperial Palace, was in the middle of the realm. However the white marble was dripping with blood and laden with corpses. Coldharbour was known as one of the most inhospitable realms of Oblivion and Dirthamen couldn't help but fully agree with this.

Since Molag Bal's sphere is domination and the enslavement of mortals, and because he is known as the God of Schemes, it is no wonder that any mortal entering the realm is captured, enslaved and turned into one of Molag Bal's Soul Shriven: soulless slaves laboring for eternity under Molag Bal's command. A group of the Soul Shriven stood in a river and didn't even react as the Keeper of Secrets passed them.

He had left Sheogorath and that woman shortly after the new Prince of madness had started to explain his plan to her. Then he had brought the Dragon Odahviing trough a rift to Thedas. Now, Dirthamens destination was the Heart´s grief. Molag Bals seat of Power in his Domain. Deceit and Fear shifted uncomfortable on their masters shoulders. Both demons hated going to Coldharbour. From all the different Oblivion planes it was the most uncomfortable place. Even the realm of Mehrunes Dagon was better than this. Dirthamen himself hated going to Coldharbour, but he had no real choice. Decades ago he had made a trade with the Deadric Prince right after Fen´harel had created the Vail and entered Uthenera. Dirthamen had entered the black city and brought one of the Evanuris to Molag Bal since the threat of him was to great. In exchange of the eternal torture and imprisonment of Elgar´nan from the Deadric Prince,Dirthamen needed to shared one of his Secrets from once in a while. A small price that he was willing to pay.

The same female Dremora waited for him at the usual spot, before the doors of the Wailing Prison. Her face showed not a hint of emotion or movement as he approached and came to a halt. >> You are late. As usual.<< her voice was unpleasant like the sound of stone grinding against each other. >> Just bring me to your Master<< She snapped her fingers and a shining blue Portal appeared. Of course he himself was able and skilled enough to open a Portal to the Heart´s Grief himself, but it would only enrage the Dreadric Prince if he did so. He stepped trough and seconds later was he in the stronghold of Molag Bal. He felt how dozends of Blue glowing eyes from the Deathbringer Clan, Molag Bal´s Council fixed on him but they remained silent. The only sound in the great Hall was a a mixture of moaning, sighting, screaming and stuttering. It came from a person kneeling on the floor chained between two stone pillars. Watching over the great Hall and the Deadra as well as his victim sat the Dreadric Prince on a Throne made of bones. Molag Bal resembled a large, bipedal hybrid of a bull and a reptile, and appeared like always adorned with horns, fangs, claws and a long tail. His scaly tale twitched slightly and a small grin appeared on his ugly face. >> You are late as always.<< >>My apologies, but as you know I had a talk with Sheogorath<< Dirthamen walked closer, ignored the person on the floor and came to a halt before the Throne of Molag Bal. There he lowered himself to one knee. >>I know.... and he surely keeps you busy. Well then as for your Secret.... Maybe you have something for me to assist me against Boethia?<< Dirthamen chuckled indeed he had something for the Deadric Prince. He stood up and reached into his robes. >>Here<< The long blade hummed softly in his hands. >> What is that?<< >> Well as you see, it is a sword made of ebony ore. Keep it for a little while. I wish you the uttermost fun with it.<< Not many managed to irritate and confuse the Deadric Prince of Domination but Molag Bal looked still irritated at the door long after the elf had left.

Once outside of Coldharbour Deceit couldn't keep his thoughts any longer for himself:

>> You gave him the Ebony Blade? Just after you finished creating this artifact? You could have given him also the ring of Kajit or one of Andruils weapons.<<

Dirthamen laughed softly. >> Well I have the feeling the ebony blade is not finished yet. So I gave it to this brute as a test for its potential.<< Deceit shook his head and glanced at Fear on their masters left shoulder. The Demon however was ignoring him and took of from his masters shoulders off into the sky of the Spiral Skein.

 

Chapter Text

Malfurion´s throat felt sour from the use of the Thuum. Exhausted the last Dragonborn let himself sink on a rock.

>> You´re Thuum has grown in strength since I last heard it. Non the less you have overdone yourself. It would be best if you remain quiet .<< Miraaks voice was a little muffled from the spectral mask he was still wearing but his voice had not lost even a hint of the arrogant tone he had used when talking to Malfurion. The Altmer only glanced over to the white-golden spirit form of Miraak and gave him a weak nod as an answer. Pleased Miraak turned around again and continued to study this strange green realm they were in. Of course Malfurion was curious himself and wanted to know where they were, but he was to tired and exhausted to care much at the moment. Gods he was so tired and his troat burned, he would give anything for one healing potion now. When Odahviing had not appeared he had tried to use other shouts. Some of them were self created, but it was of no use the Dragon had not appeared. He closed his eyes a bit and opened them some time later when Miraak talked again. >> I am sure you noticed the unusual strong Magical concentration in the air and ground as well?<< >> Mhm...even in this puddle of water.<<

Curiosity and wisdom together with a spirit of compassion,which had crosser their path, had watched the pair. One of them was clearly an elf, but with a strange yellow golden skin tone. The other one was....Wisdom was not sure. The man was transparent just like a spirit. Jet he glowed white-golden. Wisdom was sure that this was not a spirit. At least not any kind she had knowledge of. A shudder went trough the female spirit. The elf seemed not to have a problem with the strange glowing figure. In fact they talked to each other like they had met before, or maybe even like they were friends? Curiosity glanced at them from behind his rock. The spirit had the appearance of a boy and tried to sit still. Compassion was next to him stroking the head of the spirit. Curiosity had a hard time here. Normally the spirit would have encountered those two a while ago, but the spirit was torn between its nature and the feeling of fear. Back then everyone had been startled when a rumble had went trough the fade. All spirits and demons nearby had been greatly alarmed when the elf had started to...shout. Power, raw and furious had echoed trough their heads and formed words they did not understand. However Wisdom had the feeling it was a name. That elf must have called for someone...

 

Chapter Text

>>You gave him what? << the Deadric prince shouted and the goblet in Mephalas Hand shattered, spilling the wine on the ground before her throne. >>The ebony blade.<< Dirthamen said calm, not paying attention to the outrage of the prince, since he was used to it. >>You created this for me. FOR ME! HOW DARE YOU TO GIVE IT AWAY!!<< Mephala shouted louder and salvia was coming out of her mouth. The small drops landed on Dirthamens face and the Elf quickly wiped them away with his sleeve of his robes. Then he spoke again in the calm, collected tone.>>Like I said, it is not finished. And don't you think, that the sword if it's soaked in the blood of Boethia, will get more powerful? << Mephalas face turned to surprise and then a smile appeared on the lips. >>Perhaps.... You really are wicked. But what will you gain from this? <<
>>Nothing in particular. Just the satisfying results of my work. << his face showed nothing of his true intentions. A perfect pokerface. Mephala´s gaze turned suspicious, her eyes squinted slightly. The elf however kept his straight face and looked into the black eyes of the prince. After a few hearbeats Mephala sunk back in her throne. >> Very well then. You may go now. I will watch this outcome.<<She moved her hand in a gesture and returned her attention to the book she was reading. Dirthamen stood up from the cold floor,bowed, turned around and left the halls.

Sheogorath and he had worked out several Plans. From the easiest to the worst possible outcome. They had several backup plans and it was Dirthamens job to prepare what they needed for a few of them...well some of them....to be honest, he had to do all the dirty work. If Dirthamen would be much younger, than now, he would´nt have agreed and certainly not running around, and deal with every prince. Luckily he was not hot blooded and quick to anger anymore. The magic made his skin itch as he exited the plane of Mephala. No matter how often he had been here, he would never get used to the feeling. Hell even Molag Bals plane and the magic in it was more pleasant than the terrible itching, like thousands invisible spiders were crawling over his body.

>> Nasty<<Deceit mumbled in his left ear and slightly shook his feathers out, his claws dug painfully in his owners shoulders.

>> Where are we going now?<< Fear asked and turned his head to look at his master. >>Back home?<< >> No, we have to talk with Peryite first.<< >> You have everything you need for the summon?<< >>Yes.<< >> Why exactly do you need always to inhale the fume of the offerings to summon him? Its not like you are unable to enter his pits.<<>> Because he is paranoid?<< Deceit suggested and laughed a little.>> If only he would be, no he is just strange... I think he would not be pleased if I enter his pits. And I´m not interested in angering another Prince.<< >>Right, you already are great friends with Boetia and Narmina.<< Dirthamen smiled. >>Yes we have our problems with each other. So adding a third one to the list of princes who are angry with me would not be good...<< He added a spell to his clothes and over his two companions to keep warm. It was winter in Skyrim- very cold. Something Dirthamen had always despised. The Shrine to Peryite was located in the Reach, far to the northeast of Markarth. And like always when Dirthamen visited,Ji´tima- a Kajit waited for him.

>> You have everything you need?<< the cat asked and skipped the greeting.>> Of course<< the Evanuris answered and brought a silver ingot, a deathbell flower, vampire dust and a flawless ruby out of his robes.

>> Splendid<< the Kajit said grabbed the indigents and burned them on the altar. Dirthamen stepped forth and inhaled the fume. His vision went blurry and then he heard Peryites voice. >> Ah, you again..<<


 

The graphics in the game didn´t even compare to the breach in the vail. It was much bigger, terrible and beautiful at the same time. Furthermore cold wind and a constant rumble was present, hurting my ears. Solas and Varric had left my cell on Cassandras orders a while ago. And then both, Leliana and Cassandra had started to question me again and again. I didn't have much time to look at the sky because a harsh tug on my bound hands made me flinch. Cassandra pulled me mercilessly forward trough Haven. They had decided to go tomorrow to the breach since it was late now. Again much more different than in the game... For “Safety” they would get me to a house in Haven. My pleading for some other clothes than my short pants and top had fallen on deaf ears. After seconds I lost the feeling in my body, only natural if you were in almost no clothes and barefoot. We didn't need to walk long. Before a small house, near the Tavern, stood a soldier. As soon as he saw us, he opened the door and Cassandra pushed me inside. Solas looked up from a table full of Scrolls. He furrowed his brows when he noticed the lack of clothes on me. >>Seeker do you want her dead?<< He asked, stood up reached for a blanket and wrapped it around me while he forced me gently on a chair before the fire. Cassandra was about to answer, but Solas shut the door before her nose. A disgusted sound came from the other side of the door and then her harsh voice as she commanded some soldiers to guard the door. Gods I was tired....and the warmth of the fire didn't help in the slightest. Half of my brain warned me to not fall asleep, while the other found the thought of sleep more and more attractive. The shadow from Solas fell over me and I managed to lift my head a little. He took my hands surprisingly gently in his left hand his face showing anger and concern. >> Let me undo this.<< The dagger he held in his right hand was far to sharp for my taste. It glided trough the thick rope like butter. >>T..h...y...<< Was everything I could say between the trembling of my lips and still ice cold body. >> This is not good Dalen we have to get you out of those...clothes. Varric and I have prepared a bath for you.<< With this he picked me up in his arms and carried me trough the house. I wanted to protest in every way possible but I was to tired. >> >>Hey Snowy, you´re still with us right. You must keep awake.<< Varrics voice came from very far away to my right ear.A warm hand touched my cheek. >> We will undress you now.<< Whatever just let me sleep I thought.

>>At this rate she will drown...<< Varric said and dropped the strange pants the woman had been wearing on the ground. Solas who emptied another bottle of lyrium into the hot water nodded and looked quickly at the woman. >> Varric could you get another blanket and some alcohol? Oh and something to eat please?<< >> Of course<<

While Varric stormed outside to get the stuff Solas had requested, undressed the elven apostate, lifted the woman up and stepped into the bathtub. Once he sat as comfortable as possible he moved the woman between his legs, wrapped his arms around her and bedded her head on his shoulder. Anger walled up in him again, but he pushed it down. The words he wanted to use on Cassandra could wait, the woman not, she was cold as ice. He started to cast a healing spell, then slowly and carefully he wove another spell for warmth in it. After a few heartbeats another spell followed to keep the mark calm. The lyrium in the water reacted to the magic, increasing the magic a little.

 Cursing Varric stormed trough Haven. Of course the Soldier bevore the door had been quicker than him and had ordered everyone to ignore the dwarf, because he needed stuff for her. No one wanted to give or help him, getting the things he needed. Since it was for “the murderer and the elf” that's how the humans in Haven had started to call her and Solas. The fact that both, Varric and Solas was interested at seeing her alive and would do anything to keep it that way didn't suit the humans of Haven. Like an arrow shot from Bianca, Varric stormed into Addans apothecary, and somehow managed to convince the man to give him the requested items. Then he stormed away into the night, back to Solas´s house.

When Varric came back inside with the requested things he nearly dropped them. Solas sat in the tub with the woman. The man looked exhausted, with sweat covering his face and jet he somehow managed to keep his spells intact. >> Water...<< Solas pressed forth between clutched teeth and drowned the bottle Varric handed him. >> Chuckles, is it working?<< The answer was a slight nod. Then he concentrated on his magic again. It was pathetic how a mere combination of three spells exhausted him so quickly.

 


 

Legs-four legs my brain needed a few moments to realize what I saw. I was sitting in a bathtub made of wood surrounded from strange blue glowing water and someone was with me in it. Judging from the legs and the feeling of a solid chest in my back it was a male. Said male moved slightly and a very hoarse voice came from behind me. >> You are awake..good<< The voice was unrecognizable to me and I tried to move, but a strong arm pulled me back. >> Just wait a little longer. I´m not done yet.<< Of course I did what every woman would do if she woke up in the grip of a stranger, I tried to get free of the man. >> Please sit still<< the voice said again. With ease he pulled me back, I tried to struggle but my attempts came to a sudden halt when I saw something other than the blue glowing water. Sparks, blue, green and yellow ones danced along my arms. Fascinated I starred at them and then I starred some more. The skin was not the usual brown, but a white. Snow white... >> Are you all right?<< the voice asked. Hm something about that voice was familiar...

It took me a heartbeat to realize who was holding me upright. >>Solas?<< >>Yes it is me.....But...why do you know my name?<<

Oh shit....

 

 

 

Chapter Text

"I want to know everything there is to know about that woman, is that clear? “ the man before her nodded." I will start with the city elfs. Since that woman has no tattoo on her face it's unlikely that she is a member of the dalish. However, I will ask them as well." This time it was Leliana who gave an approving nodd. The man bidd her farewell and went off to his duty. She looked after him for a second then she returned to the report laying on her table. It was exactly how she had thought. They had found no information about the Golden elf. "I guess I have to wait until he wakes up." she mumbled to herself.

Once the spy was outside of Haven and hidden from a few trees he returned to his usual form. Deceit shook out his feathers flew up on one of the trees and started to exchange his information to Dirthamen and Fear." Well what shall we do? “ he asked “ Plant some falls memory into the city elfs perhaps?" Fear suggested. Dirthamen shook his head and massaged the side of his head a pondering headache plagued him. "I'll think about it. For now we should retreat." he opened a rift in the vail and stepped trough. Someone waited already for him. Leaning almost in his full glory, still weakened leaned the man on a rock. "Hello brother." "Falon'din..." Both men glared daggers at each other and the magic around them increased until the air around them grew hot. "My, my aren't you both lively? However I would appreciate it, if you cease this senseless sibling rivalry. At least for now."  Sheogorath appeared between them with a slight smile. "Who are you? “Falon'din demanded to know." GET OUT OF MY WAY" Dirthamen shouted and drew his sword. His face showing rage. He pushed the surprised Deadric out of his way and attacked his brother. The guider of the dead managed to block the first attack from his brother. Dirthamen however had already a lightning spell in his left hand and slammed it into the stomach of his opponent. Falon'din stumbled backwards but only for a second. Then he regained his ground. Sheogorath in the meanwhile stood up again and watched them a little surprised. He had known that the two brothers hated each other now but seeing the mercilessly violence of their fight surprised him a little. "They disagree on the reason of their very existence. Falon'din is Dirthamen reason to fight and visa versa."Fear answered the unspoken question from the Deadric prince." They were close once, but now... when they murdered Mythal, Dirthamen sword to kill his brother" "I see, but non the less. It's time that you stop this. "His last words were directed to the fighting siblings. Of course they didn't listen in the slightest." I said, stop this" an invisible force pushed both brothers back. "How dare you? “ Dirthamen asked still outraged and stood up from the ground. His twin smirked this was the opportunity he had waited for. A spell appeared in his hand. Dirthamen and his ravens started to scream as Falon'din ripped the bond between them apart. Fear got severed from Dirthamen and disappeared into the fade. Somehow the Evanuris managed to shield Deceit trough the soaring pain. The barrier was very fragile but he managed to keep it up. Again Falon'dins attacked him but Sheogorath intervered. A powerful blast knocked the Evanuris back and knocked him back into the depts of the fade. Dirthamen stumbled to the ground and lost consciousness. 

Chapter Text

The place was dark. I couldn't see anything at all. I tried to move by body but I couldn't even lift a finger. I tried to remember what had happened. After a while I remembered. We never made it to the breach. In fact I wasn't even able to see the sunrise after my bath with Solas. He had went outside just for a brief moment because Cassandra wanted to talk with him. The guard before the door had took this opportunity, he came in and had  killed me with his sword. I remembered the feeling of my blood spilling out of my body and I shuddered. "That was... Unexpected, you weren't supposed to die." An unfamiliar man's voice said suddenly in the darkness and I screamed out in shook.realising just after my scream that I could at least use my mouth and voice  "There is no need to panic" the voice sounded highly amused. "Who are you? Where am I?" " A good question but not one I will answer. At least not now." //Oh Great, that's a real Solas move there... // "This Sheogorath and the elf... What was his name again? Dirtomen?" "Dirthamen" I corrected whoever it was. "A right Dirthamen" the male sounded happy for some reason. "Well like you now the brought you here to close that hole in the sky bla Bla Bla and so on. The problem my dear is that they didn't give you the proper upgrade you need. You don't know how to fight for you and neither how to survive even the harshest conditions... The only strengt you have is to survive any firm of destruction magic. " The male sounded displeased." What a crap of bullshit... " now he sounded angry." What interest do you have in my survival  and learn how to fight etc? " I asked but got no answer to that. The man continued like I had never opened my mouth." So I decided to give you a proper upgrade. For that I had to look into your memories. And I found something highly interesting...HALFDEMONS from a video game. The one in red is quite cool but I like his elder brother more. He's so awesome. And he wears blue, I like that color a lot."" What the hell? You are talking about Devil may cry? And about Vergil and Dante? Are you kidding me? " my voice had gone higher a bit as I followed this kind of thoughts and came to the right conclusion." No I'm not kidding. This seems to be the best upgrade in my opinion."" You are trying to turn me into Vergil? " I hissed." Again wrong, you will keep your gender, but the rest is right." the man chuckled. Suddenly my body grew hot." What are you doing? "" Giving you the upgrade of course..." It grew hotter and hotter until I was sertain that I was burning and ready to burst into flames at any moment. This torture stopped eventually after some time." You bastard that fucking hurt" I screamed enraged. "I know now shut up" he demanded and sounded amused again. "So my dear your only task is to survive here." Where exactly is here scum? " Shokked I closed my mouth. It seemed like I had atomaticly talked like Vergil in his manner of speech and also behavior." A sorry... my mistake... You still can't move and see..." My ears picked up the sound of some fingers snapping and I felt downwards as gravity hit me. "Ouch" I said out of habit as I crushed into the ground. Actually I hadn't hurt a bit. Quickly I stood up again and took in my surroundings. "That's.. Incredible..." I said in awe. My eyes were sharp like hell and could look for miles and still saw everything perfectly clear. "Impressed I see.." a now familiar voice said from my left and I turned to look at the man who had... Upgraded me. Sadly there wasn't anything to see. There was no one but me on the cliff of hard black stone. "I brought you into that hell of this Video game. Like you know they are all real worlds." the invisible speaker continued. "Here are your weapons and clothes. Again the sound of fingers snapping against each other and seconds later I had Vergils outfit from Devil may cry 5 on my body. I moved a bit and found them much lighter like I expected. Even the gloves on my hands were highly comfortable. "That suits you.. Surprisingly." "That is the best compliment I ever had. Thank you whoever you are..." i was a little pissed. "So to your weapons... Of course you have that Yamato... But only one weapon is a little boring right? So how about that one too?" right before me appeared Yamato and I grabbed it. The Katana felt so familiar like it had always been with me. "You are Kidding again... Well you are not but are you crazy? That looks so heavy I can't even lift that thing!!" "Stop thinking that you are a human or an elf. You are Half devil and you should be very well able to lift and use that thing. Try it." "Crazy... He's crazy... HOLY SHIT!" As soon as I grabbed the devil sword Sparda and tried to lift it up I tossed it over my head and almost down the cliff. Luckily my reflexes took over ( I had never been so damn fast in my life) and reached the sword right before it flew into the Darkness below. "Bravo" I got standing ovations from the invisible Man as he clapped his hands together. "That was great. I'm really awesome. I should create Halfdemons more often.." he mitered to himself. "Oh right I forgot one last thing. Yamato can open Portals but I will restrain that ability until you are ready to leave. Now have fun and learn how to survive my dear." With that he grew silent and I felt that he had disappeared. " I really hate doing the bidding for others... " muttering and cursing I jumped of the cliff and into the darkness bellow. Yamato in my left Hand and the devil sword Sparda on my back where it magically resided.

How long I staid in Hell? I had no clue at all but I had the feeling that it was a long time a very long time. I just split a big towering Spider like Demon in half when I heard the voice again. " You surpassed my highest expectations... How scary..." I sheathed Yamato back in its scabbard and turned around. "I assume I'm allowed to go now?" "Indeed my dear indeed. But... I arranged a little change. You see  the ..." I didn't listen anymore because I had already opened a portal with the Yamato, stepped trough and found myself in the fade of Dragon Age. "Time to start over..."