Disclaimer: I do not own anything pertaining to The Elder Scrolls franchise. It belongs to Bethesda and other respective sponsors. I am not receiving any monetary benefit from writing this fan-fiction; it is purely for my own and others' entertainment.

Author's Note: Okay, so I've been tossing this idea around in my head for a while and finally decided that I wanted to write it. However, I had a lot of reservations about starting this fan-fiction because I've seen some fanfics where people insert themselves into their favorite worlds and I've found some of them kind of obnoxious. They didn't appear to have any sort of dynamic to them. I also didn't want to be associated with that category of self-insert, but then I've been considering how interested my close friends have felt regarding these little stories of mine. I figured also that I might be able to provide a new angle on a self-insert fic. Beyond that, I've refrained from writing a fan-fiction because I haven't written one in a couple of years.

For the title of the fic, I chose the Khajiit word "vabazeri", which means "becoming." The first part is called "Vasa Ja-kha'jay" meaning "Beneath the Lunar Lattice."

Either way, I hope you enjoy it. Also, I'd like to ask for those of you who don't enjoy it, to give me some constructive criticism instead of flaming me. I don't appreciate flaming.

Vabazeri

Part I: Vasa Ja-kha'jay

Chapter 1

Azura's Benediction

August, 2012

I couldn't really remember the last time my cousins and I got together. Perhaps we were about thirteen or so but since then, we'd been so caught up in our own lives that we rarely got the time to really sit down, relax, and enjoy ourselves together. Tonight seemed to be a good night for that though. I tagged along with my grandma to Wisconsin Dells, where Uncle Don's camper was placed smack-dab in the middle of a thousand or so other campers, set right along the river. When I got there, I was totally taken in by the ambiance of the wood and river, the scent of the pine and the sound of children's laughter. The place had an aura of happiness around it and it sunk into my skin as easily as the sunlight.

Seven o'clock rolled around and the booze was really starting to pour. "Ashey, Ashey," my cousin Britt slurred, suddenly reminding me of my childhood when everybody affectionately referred to me as either "Ashey Jo" or "Monkey." Britt smacked me in the arm to get my full attention. We were sitting under the porch built against the side of the camper. There was a bar at the center with a frosted glass surface and several large stools around it for us to lounge in. I was buzzed since Britt had been filling up my glass consistently for the past three hours. The taste of orange juice and vodka clung to my tongue as I turned to her, taking another drink out of my cup. "Take another shot with me."

Katie interrupted me as I reached to pick up my shot-glass so that Britt could fill it with vodka. "Here, try some of this." She set down a clear bottle with a light brown liquid inside of it, in front of me. On the label, written in cheesy red and yellow letters, the bottle read Hot Sex.

She poured a shot for me and one for herself. "Ha. Hot Sex. I could use some of that," I giggled.

Katie laughed, her blue eyes bright as ever. It was strange how much Katie and I looked alike. We both had long blonde hair and piercing blue eyes, though Katie's complexion was splashed with little red freckles. Britt, on the other hand, was dark haired and tanned. She shared the similarity of our blue eyes. Each of us were twenty-one now. "Yeah, me too," Katie agreed.

Her words left a bitter taste in my mouth, as her good-looking boyfriend sat on the swing not far away. I'd been feeling especially lonely lately, as I didn't have the time or money to invest in a relationship and hadn't had the means to do so in well over two years. I hadn't even had a lay in that time (not counting the two weeks of terrible lays during the drama with my ex last spring) and to say that I was envious of my cousin's ability to get good-looking guys to follow her to bed was an enormous understatement. There was also my issue of being attracted to older men. I didn't want a guy my age because I couldn't relate to a guy my age, but older men tended to look the other way simply because I was too young or at least, seemed too young. So there was a gnawing feeling of hopelessness where my love life was concerned and I didn't want to hear her tell me she could use some hot sex because she'd more than likely screwed her boyfriend earlier in the afternoon. "Oh, be quiet. At least you've got a man who will give you some."

Katie laughed and nodded. "Yeah, that's true."

"So what is this?" I asked, lifting my shot-glass and sniffing at the spirits. The smell was reminiscent of chocolate, but that scent in itself was drowned away by the mouth-watering scent of barbecued chicken cooking on the grill.

"Something amazing," she grinned, picking up her glass. The two of us waited patiently for Britt to finish yacking her boyfriend's ear off about something or another, and we clinked our glasses together, giving a hoorah to our lives. I downed my shot, enjoying the way the alcohol burned my throat on the way down. I could taste chocolate and crème, mixing together in the sweetest thing I'd ever tasted since Tequila Rose. I moaned with delight at the pure orgasm the drink gave my taste-buds and set down my shot glass. "Oh my god!"

"Right?" asked Katie, leaning forward on the bar.

"That's...that's...so good," I gushed. "Almost as good as sex."

"I told you it was amazing." Katie looked more than a little amused, taking in my reaction to her favorite drink. She and I were similar that way. We delighted in peoples' reactions to just about anything. I imagined it had something to do with the fact that we were both artists, she the painter and I the writer. It was why Katie and I understood each other, of all of our cousins, the best. Nobody in our family could really understand what kind of a blessing and curse it was to be an artist. A blessing because we were given the gift of color and creativity, woven into the very sinews of our hands; and it was a curse because it left us drowning in trying to understand ourselves in the human condition when we were on an entirely different wavelength from everyone else. It set us apart from others and for me, brought loneliness.

That wasn't to say there weren't people like us because anyone could be an artist but honing those abilities and being observant of everything around us wasn't exactly something everyone took the time to tap into, but there was never a time when I didn't feel different from everybody else and not in a way that said I was unique or touched by the hand of God or anything like that. Merely that I didn't feel I belonged and I felt I couldn't really relate to the people I was around. It was a lingering feeling, but thankfully, the drinks I downed were now starting to numb away that feeling.

The night carried on and I found myself drunker than I'd been in some time. I usually didn't bother to drink all that much, just special occasions such as these. My dad smiled, amused, when I, the easy-going drunk, cuddled up to him on the couch-swing, despite being angry at him for the past two weeks for a reason I couldn't recall, and ate my barbecue chicken so enthusiastically that I had an over-extended, sticky brown smile across my cheeks once I finished. Laughing, he gave me a little push out of the swing and told me to go wash my face.

This was probably one of my happier nights. Tonight the very air was calm and my spirit was in its very own zen.

The sun fell on the horizon and my eyes danced as I stood. It was then that I noticed it. In the fire of our barbecue pit, for the briefest moment, I could have sworn that I saw a woman's face. It was angular and her ears were pointed. Her eyes were ablaze and she was smiling. However, as soon as I saw it, it disappeared as the flames flickered. Even in my drunkenness, I could tell that that was just odd. Promising myself that I wasn't that drunk (or high, for that matter, as I'd never been before in my lifetime), I went to wash my face, my gait a little heavy. When I reached the bathroom to wash my face, it struck me that I couldn't feel my lips and I panicked a little, looking in the mirror to make sure that they were still there, little streams of water streaking my pale cheeks. I found my reflection staring at me.

A dazed-looking blonde girl looked back at me. Blue eyes veiled by a pair of glasses, brown and oval-shaped. She wore no make-up and had a little acne on her forehead, reminiscent of her teenage years and deciding to dog her into her adulthood. Her long hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail and she wore a red hoodie. She blinked and when her eyes opened again, a tall, slender woman stood just to her right. The woman was a strange-looking creature, but undeniably female. Her skin was the color of the night sky and her eyes were rubies. Again, the pointed ears and the angular face, the woman from the fire? She wore a blue gown that sparkled against the dim light of the bathroom and her wrists adorned golden bangles.

The hairs on the back of my neck rose, stinging me with nervousness. I was awestruck by her beauty and the curiosity of her. I must be dreaming, I thought. There's no way a creature like her exists here. I felt my heart start to pound against my chest. I didn't know what to do. Should I scream? Surely this was some sort of drunken hallucination or another product of my ever-growing imagination. If I screamed, everyone would come running into the bathroom to see if I was okay and probably find me staring, mouth agape, at a hallucination. They would laugh and I would feel stupid.

There was a knowing smile on the creature's mouth. "Hello, Nerevarine," she whispered, her voice laced with power, as if there were ten more voices echoing in her throat.

Did she just speak? I asked myself. And what did she just call me? 'Nerevarine'? I haven't heard that word in years. Not since..

I felt a sleepiness overtake me. My eyes drooped and my whole body grew weak with fatigue. I fell but I didn't know where. It was as if my feet came out from underneath me and everything went black.

I drifted then, through stars and black skies. I felt calm, far more calm than I'd felt with my family along the river. I felt like a child, wrapped safely in her mother's arms, any worries placated purely by the embrace. Nothing could touch me. Nothing could harm me. The woman's voice reached deep within me, resonating and vibrating, as if she were touching my very soul. You have been taken from all that you know. Your soul cries for a purpose and I am here to give it one. You have been chosen.

For what purpose? I asked, though no words emitted my mouth.

Prophecy. It is your destiny. She spoke with certainty.

I don't believe in destiny. It was something I had never believed in. Sure, there were things that were simply meant to be, things that felt fine and right, but destiny? I would choose my destiny. I would choose my path. That was how it had always been and always would be.

Perhaps you should.

Will there be fighting? That always seemed to be a case with stories. There was always a fight to be had and won.

Much. And only until you fulfill your destiny will you be able to return home.

She spoke as if she knew and as if I had no choice. The American in me wanted to scream at this woman that I was from the Land of the Free and no way in hell was she going to tell me what to do or how to live, but I knew better. I didn't even know this woman. It wasn't right to be disrespectful towards her, no matter the situation. Beyond that, if she was some sort of goddess, offending her ought to be the last thing on my mind. I wondered though if I was truly bound to this, body and soul.

Am I bound?

You are bound.

I began to worry. I didn't know much about fighting, save for a self-defense course I took almost a year ago, which taught me the basics of how to defend myself. If there was going to be fighting and war, I would need to be prepared. I couldn't fulfill this prophecy of hers if I couldn't defend myself. I don't know much about fighting.

I will give you to the desert-peoples of Elsweyr. They will train you in their ways and send you on your way when they deem you ready for this task. I leave you with Mother Ri'lujayn.

I was unsure what to say when she made her decree. After all, it seemed there was nothing I could do but go through with it. I wondered again if this was a dream or a hallucination. I ought to be able to wake myself up, if that were so, but as I willed myself to wake, the goddess' voice found my soul again, wrenching me from her reality.

Wake up!

Read and review, please? I would love to know what you think! Expect a second chapter sometime next week!