Chapter Text
So fragile, so easily broken, so easily shattered. These mortal bars. Pathetic. Foolish. Sheogorath stood in their cell, laughing at the feeble attempts to contain them. If only the mortals knew just who it was they kept locked away in their little dungeon. Locked away for who even knew what. Sheogorath couldn’t be certain they hadn’t done whatever it was they were told they had. Their brain was still so busy, so confused, still getting used to being back in this world instead of their own. They had not yet adapted to being back, were still allowing themself to act and think like a god.
Clearly, it had landed them in trouble. Not that it mattered. There was no dungeon could hold the god for long. This was merely a diversion, a tourist attraction on this whistle-stop tour of mortality. An amusement as they desperately searched for how it had once felt to be alive.
Sheogorath sighed, resting their face against the bars of the cell door. A shiver ran through their body. They were cold. A single laugh bubbled out of their chest, empty and vicious. How dare these people apprehend a god? They would pay. Yes, they had planned on visiting prison at some point on this holiday, but not in their first week of being back on mortal ground. They had still been taking it all in, literally and figuratively smelling the roses, when they’d been dragged off to prison.
When asked for a name they were surprised when it wasn’t ‘Sheogorath’ but something completely different which tumbled from their lips. The name felt familiar, it stirred a memory. Something about it felt comforting, homely. As though it had once belonged to them.
Emelira Hodentius. She had been the woman who lived in this body once. Beaten down by a lifetime of hardships she had learnt to fight, to survive. She had ceased to care. That was why she had entered through the door when all signs said she shouldn’t. The guard desperately begged her not to, the mad adventurers tumbling back through told her more of the other side than any normal person would ever wish to know. She had plunged in and not looked back. In no time at all she became they, taking on the mantle of Sheogorath.
The name that had tumbled from Sheogorath’s lips when they had been asked for one hadn’t been uttered in years. Perhaps the old adventurer was still in there, somewhere. Perhaps she was the only thing stopping the Mad God from tipping all of the way into insanity. Perhaps she was what had called them back here, to the mortal realm. She was a part of their soul they wanted to remember.
Sheogorath laughed louder now. This cell was getting to them. That was the single most coherent thought they’d had in a very long time, and yet it made less sense than any of the gibberish.
Across the passageway, in the opposite cell, a dark elf jeered. It was a waste of breath. Sheogorath wouldn’t die here, they wouldn’t die anywhere. This was just a stop off, just a novelty. An amusement on their holiday from their throne.
Voices, quiet now but getting louder. Multiple people. Not coming for them as the dunmer said, no, these people had greater purpose to their walk. And an emperor in their midst.
“What’s this prisoner doing here? This cell is supposed to be off limits!”
“U-usual mix up at the watch. I…”
“Never mind, get that gate open” The woman, clearly the one in charge, barked. The door swung open and Sheogorath staggered backwards, cowering in the corner like the mere mortal woman they appeared to be. This was a fun game.
“Stand back prisoner. We won’t hesitate to kill you if you get in our way”
Sheogorath bit back a laugh. They were enjoying playing this role, lowing their eyes and pretending to be compliant.
The old man walked into the cell. He was steady on his feet, composed and standing tall despite the circumstances. It was impossible not to stare. He stared back.
“You… I’ve seen you… Let me see your face”
Emperor Uriel Septim gazed at the face of Emelira Hodentius and saw his own death. A god stared out of the woman’s eyes and saw a whole lot more than that. All questions and purpose seemed to fall away. The reason for their incarceration was irrelevant, their plans beyond this cell disintegrated. Emperor Uriel Septim and the god that used to be Emelira Hodentius stared into each other’s eyes and both saw fate staring back at them.
This. This was why the new Sheogorath had been called back to the land of their birth. Many years ago fate had made this appointment and nothing would stand in its way. There was a world to be saved and this was its hero. Stripped of immortal powers when in the mortal realm, they seemed an unlikely champion, but there was more at play here than the whims of gods.
Uriel Septim spoke in riddles and Emelira’s mind was clearer than it had been in a very long time.
And then the wall to their cell opened and a dark passageway stretched ahead. The emperor and his guards disappeared inside. Emelira watched them go. She took a breath, rolled her shoulders back, and smiled. The dark loomed.
This sounded like it might be fun.