AN: So this has been bouncing around in my head the past few days so I figured I'd give it a try. Obviously, this is my first story so take that as a warning about the quality of the story you're about to read. Anyway, hope ya'll enjoy the story. Just as a reference, Ysara's appearance and combat style are heavily influenced by the Valkyrie from For Honor and this will start about a year before DXD cannon starts.
Chapter 1: The Passion and Resurrection
The Summit of Apocrypha, the tallest point in the realm of the Daedric Prince Hermaeus Mora, was currently home to the greatest duel of this era. Miraak, the First Dovahkiin, and Ysara Gaerwing, the Last Dovahkiin, were locked in a flurry of spell, Thu'um, and blade. They clashed again and again, evenly matched in both skill and power. They broke apart, both trying to regain their breathe from this latest clash.
They were equally battered and covered in grime and blood. Miraak's robes were torn and ragged, his mask cracked and even broken in some places. Ysara's glass armor was in a similar state of disrepair, revealing her pale skin in some places where the damage was the worst. Her glass buckler had cracks spider-webbing across its surface, despite the reinforcing and warding enchantments she had placed on it. Her long, raven colored hair fell out of the back of her helmet in a large braid.
Both wielded strange weapons. Ysara's weapon of choice was the spear, a weapon not seen since before the Fall of the Septims. Hers in particular was a Bound Spear, a lesser daedra having been forced into the desired form and summoned to this plain. Miraak's weapons were far stranger. His sword was an odd fusion of tentacle and metal, the fleshy blade extending when he swung it. His staff conjured masses of tentacles on the ground, slowing and poisoning anyone within their reach.
Both warriors dashed forward, Ysara roared and leaped, stabbing towards Miraak's midsection. Miraak nimbly sidestepped and attempted to slash her back, but his blade merely bouncing off her buckler. Thus the battle continued unabated, Mora high in the sky watching with glee. Finally, their battle changed when Ysara swung her spear like a longsword. Miraak tried to block with his staff, but the weapon broke from the strain of taking one to many blows. The spearhead sliced through his stomach, nearly disemboweling him. Ysara, not expecting the lack of resistance, stumbled. Miraak seized this perfect opportunity.
"Fus… RO DAH!", Miraak shouted, sending Ysara flying across their arena. Her shield struck the ground first, shattering into a thousand pieces. Her shoulder hit next, a sickening crack emitting from it as the joint broke. Her helm flew from her head and she lost her grip on her spear, the conjured weapon fizzling out of existence. She tumbled a few times before finally coming to a stop.
She shakily stood, no doubt disorientated from the unexpected flight. As she regained her bearings, the pain of her broken shoulder finally hit her. A normal person would have screamed, she simply let out a crazed laugh, her pale blue eyes glimmering gleefully. A maniac grin plastered itself on her face, distorting the beauty of her mixed Nord and Breton features.
'This is fantastic. No one has ever pushed me this far, not Alduin, not Harkon, and definitely not Tullius. All of Sovngarde will revel in the tale of this glorious battle', she thought giddily.
She'd let herself slip again, back into old habits that she'd tried to stamp out over the past year. And frankly, she didn't care. She'd tried to hide it, hide behind a façade of elegance and calm. But it always came out whenever the fighting got too intense. Gone was Ysara Gaerwing, daughter of Ysabel Gaerwing and the last scion of The Noble House Gaerwing. In her place was the warrior simply called The Queen. A warrior born from the years spent as the champion gladiator of the Dark Moon Renegades.
She beckoned her magic to her, conjuring forth another spear. She dashed forward, disregarding the pain her shoulder and what was probably a broken rib. Pain was good, it let you know that you're still alive, still able to fight. The Queen clashed with Miraak again. This, this is what she had longed for. The fight she had craved for years. A fight between true equals. She couldn't contain her joyous laughter as she traded blows with Miraak, wildly slashing and stabbing at him with her spear. He could barely keep up.
A spike of pain shot through her midsection as she tried to stab Miraak again, sending her stumbling past him. She knew she had lost before Miraak's blade rent her back from shoulder to hip. She fell to her knees, and had to catch herself before she face planted into the stone ground. She barely heard Miraak's clinking footsteps over her panting and the ferocious pounding of her heart.
'Is this the day I die?" She thought when the footsteps stopped. She could imagine Miraak raising his sword to strike her down.
"This was inevitable child. No matter how talented you are, I was always fated to win this little bout of ours. Now, your soul is mine and I will finally be free of this place. Any last words before I remove that pretty little head from your shoulders?" Miraak taunted.
'No! I shall not die here arrogant bastard,'
"Fus… RO DAH!", was The Queen's simple reply, the mighty shout ripping forth from her throat and rebounding off the ground. Her bones trembled as the shout launched her into the air, her spear's rear spike meeting little resistance. She almost thought she'd missed her last ditch effort until her back struck what she assumed was Miraak. She barely stuck the landing, feeling her entire body protest her daring maneuver. She turned and limped over to Miraak's fallen body.
"You talk too damn much," The Queen mocked. Served him right for monologuing instead of ending her when he had the chance.
"Defeated… by a mere child," he uttered before death took him. His body slowly disintegrating into multicolored light and rushed into The Queen.
A deep rumbling chuckle was heard from above. The Queen payed it no heed and roared her triumph to the sky, the very foundations of Apocrypha shuddered as the Thu'um enhanced roar echoed across the realm. As her roar faded, The Queen clutched her head in agony. That damn bitch wouldn't stay in her cage like she was supposed to. She screamed in fury as she was banished back to the cage.
"Gods dammit, I let it happen again," she uttered as she clutched her head, The Queen vanishing and Ysara returning once again. With the adrenaline and The Queen fading, the pain of Ysara's wounds hit her like a mammoth, barely withholding a scream. Gods damn her, she was always so careless with her body. She called forth what little magicka she had to heal her wounds. She sighed as the pain numbed, her most severe wounds closing. At least she'd live to see another day.
"Ah, what a marvelous display that was. I haven't been this entertained since the last Greymarch. My investment in you has truly paid off," the Daedric Lord complimented. "Though not as well as I had hoped," he added solemnly.
"What in Oblivion do you mean by investment?" the ravenette demanded. How dare he suggest that she was his servant. "I serve Talos and the rest of the Nine, not you"
"Ah, dear Ysara. How ignorant you are. Did you really think you had come this far on your own? Come now, don't be so naïve. How do you think your mother's family fell so quickly, despite their prestige? Or what led those Thalmor agents right to your father's secret shrine to Talos,"
'That bastard! I'll make him pay for screwing with her family,'
She pulled a dagger from her hip, kept for just an occasion like this where she didn't have the magicka left for another spear. As she was about to throw the dagger, she felt multiple slimey things slither up and encircle her body in a near crushing grip. She glanced down to see black tentacles encompassing the majority of her body. She couldn't repress the shudder that went through her body. She thrashed against them, but their grip simply tightened.
"Or why those… Oh, what were they called again? Ah yes. Why those Dark Moon Renegades picked your homestead to raid that fateful night. Or even, why you decided to go to Dark Water Crossing that night you escaped. Walking right into that Imperial ambush, leading you right to Alduin. Causing a chain of events to unfold that would cause Miraak to send his minions after you and lead you right here. Right where I always wanted you."
"What? No! That's not possible!" she denied, 'But it makes so much sense.'
"Do you see now? Everything that's happened to you and your family, everything you've done is because of me. I am your true master dear puppet, not Talos, or Akatosh, or any of those other weak fools. It was I who led your mother's family to ruin. I had your father killed by the Thalmor. I had your mother killed and had you captured. It was I who gifted you with the knowledge and the ability to survive in that arena with what little training you had. It was I who caused the cell guard to leave the key to your collar and cell within arm's reach. I whispered Dark Water Crossing to you, so that you would be for the ambush.
"All of this, the manipulation of your family and your life has been for this moment. You gave me the secrets of the Skaals, a prize that on its own was well worth the effort. You cleansed my realm of traitorous filth. You have done all that I wanted, except for one thing," the tentacles raised Ysara into the air, bringing her eye level and unnervingly close to Mora's gigantic eye, "You were supposed to join me. To be my champion that everyone, gods and daedra alike, would be envious of. You were to be the crown jewel of my collection."
'I'll shout him into a million pieces!' she raged as she felt her Thu'um thrum in her throat. Before she could utter a word, pain blossomed from her chest. One of Mora's tentacles had entered her vision, glistening with her crimson blood. She could only stare into that massive glaring eye.
"Instead, you reject me for some silly mortal god who holds no real power! The gods like to act benevolent, but they are just like us. Just far less powerful and more foolish. They make grave threats to Nirn, then choose some mortal to be their little hero. They watch as the hero fights his foes, and if he proves to be unentertaining they erase him and choose someone else. And even then, they simply toss aside their hero once they have finished their task.
"After all, the gods never interfered with my plans, simply because it didn't hinder their own plans for you. Now that you've killed Miraak, the last grave threat to Nirn for this cycle, they won't even acknowledge that you existed. You will fade from memory, just like the Hero of Kvatch and every other hero they've chosen in history."
A dark green portal opened behind her. She felt it pulling on her body, but the tentacles grip held true.
"Now, I can't simply kill you. Your soul would linger here like Miraak's. Its why I needed you in the first place. No, I'm going to send you away, dear Puppet. Somewhere far outside the influence of Oblivion or Aetherius. Die and linger there. You will come to accept me as your true master." With those final words, she felt the slimey appendages release her, leaving her suspended on the tentacle impaling her. It suddenly moved, flinging her off and into the portal.
She was falling, and, in all honesty, Ysara couldn't give a damn. She and her entire family had been playthings, not just of some sick daedra. But from the gods as well. They had devoted their lives to the service and worship of the gods. How could they do this?
Ysara had considered the possibility that Mora was lying, but in all the times she had interacted with him he had never outright lied to her. Perhaps misled or telling half-truths, but never lie. Not only that, it made sense. Why else would the calamities befall Nirn like they did without the gods either letting it happen or even causing them. It also explained why they allowed beings like Mora to continue to play with the people of Nirn.
'When I get out of here I'm go-,' her breath was suddenly knocked out of her by a tree branch. She felt it give way, as well as another one of her ribs breaking. She hit another two branches before finally crashing into what she assumed was the ground. Though it felt like she landed on stone rather than the forest floor. Ysara attempted to stand, or at least move some, but her lower body refused to respond. She dredged up what little magicka that had regenerated while Mora was gloating to stem the bleeding somewhat and restore some of her blood. But a diagnostic showed that she was far more injured than she had first thought.
'Dammit, broke my pelvis. Trying to move right now is going to be a bitch. It also seems to be the middle of the night. Meaning chanced of being found before I die from blood loss is extremely low,' She thought morosely.
The wind blew through the trees, carrying with it a piece of paper. The paper landed on the crippled woman's back, and got caught under a strap of her armor when the wind tried to pick it up again.
'Doesn't matter. I'll get through this. I'll survive being throw away like yesterday's trash. I'll live just to spite those bastards. I'll live even if I have to sell my own gods damned soul,'
She started dragging herself across the ground. She didn't know where she was going and she didn't care. She was going to crawl until either someone found her or she died. She was on some sort of path, so obviously if she followed it she would find someone eventually. She couldn't dwell on whether that person would find her dead or alive. She just had to keep moving, always moving. The pain was still there, from her broken bones to the gaping wound in her chest to the scrapes from dragging herself across rocks. Pain was good. It that meant she was still alive. She could still fight off death's embrace.
She didn't know how long she crawled across that stone pathway, but eventually even her body stopped responding. Her only working arm refused to move, she could only stare at the torn flesh of her fingers. Damnit, salvation could just be a little farther. But her body still refused to move, no matter how hard she tried or how hard she struggled. Her damn arm just wouldn't listen. She mentally cursed her body. She cursed the beings that had put her in this position. Most of all though, she cursed herself. She cursed herself for being born, for following those little whispers, for falling right where Mora had wanted.
'I wish I could do it all over. That I could just start over or be reborn or anything. I just want to live,' tears flowed freely down her face.
She never noticed the crimson light from the page on her back or when the symbol from the paper leaped from it into the air.
'I wish I could have lived a normal life. Worked a farm or managed a store. Fallen in love. Have or adopt kids.' Ysara continued to lament, confessing anything and everything within the confines of her mind. She laid bare her every failure, everything she'd done but wished she hadn't, and everything she'd hadn't done but wished she had. Finally, blessed darkness consumed the anguish consumed woman.
As it turns out, the darkness wasn't so kind after all. It was cold… so cold. An all-consuming cold that chilled her to the core and drained everything from her. Pain and joy, hope and despair, all were devoured by this darkness. Is this what is after death here? An endless abyss, colder than Skyrim could have even dreamed of being and draining you dry of every emotion?
She didn't know how long she was suspended there, in that devouring cold. But when a sudden heat consumed her as if she was in the middle of an inferno, she rejoiced. She'd thought the darkness had stolen that from her, devoured her soul like she'd done to her fellow dov. She embraced the inferno joyously. She vowed to never let this warmth go, never go back to that abyss that was sure to sap her of every emotion and feeling. Even if it destroyed her, she'd never let go.
She had the urge to open her eyes, but she knew what awaited her. Nothing but utter darkness. The urge grew stronger with each passing moment. Finally, she decided to indulge her body, just to show it that there was nothing there. Her eyes opened and were blinded by the light, such blessed light. Wincing at the pain, she slammed her eyes shut.
She opened them slowly this time, more carefully. As her eyes adjusted, she took in her surroundings. She was in a bed of strange design, completely covered in a heavy cloth. From what she could see, the room lit by the sunlight, streaming into from a window. The room was spartan, with only a few pieces of furniture you would expect from a bedroom. There were a few unlit candles scattered across the room, obviously the source of light for the room after the sun had set.
She sat up, the covers falling off to reveal her pale, Amazonian body. Her body was littered with an uncountable amount of scars, many crisscrossing and overlapping across her body. The only part of her unscarred that remained untouched was her face, her helmet having done a more than adequate job of protecting it. Not only was she naked, but someone had also taken the time to bathe her as well. Her hair, and body in general, was cleaner than it had been in weeks and there was a hint of vanilla coming from her hair.
Something was off, she didn't know what it was but something felt different. She was warm, even with the covers gone from her torso it still remained. Not only that, but she felt stronger. Far stronger than she'd ever felt in her entire life. Her magicka was gone, even the reservoir for it was gone, replaced by something else. Something completely different to magicka. She prodded this new energy, gently at first. After all, the first rule of magic was caution. Didn't want to accidentally cause yourself to spontaneously combust. She'd seen that happen too many times to not be cautious.
Ysara's investigations were cut short as the door to the room opened, a curvaceous woman with extremely long black ponytail and wearing the oddest clothes she'd ever seen, walked in carrying a small tray with an oddly shopped pot and cup on it as well. She would have been the envy of Diabella if she had been in her world. The woman's eyes lit up when she looked at her, giving her a gentle smile.
"Awake I see. Good, we honestly didn't know if you were going to make it," She said as she set the tray down and began pouring a steaming liquid into the cup, obviously some form of beverage. "You've been comatose for past three days, and hypothermic as well. Drink some tea, it should help warm you up some. I'll let Buchou (President) know that you're finally awake," she told Ysara as she tenderly handed her the cup of tea. The woman left the room, obviously to go get whoever this Buchou person was.
'How the hell do I know that Buchou means president when this is the first time I've heard it?' Ysara thought, but pushed it aside in favor of the cup in her hand.
Ysara examined the cup, taking a small whiff to check for any noticeable poisons, a habit she'd taken up after during her time with the Dark Moons. Not detecting anything malignant, she took a small sip of the tea.
'Not bad. I'd prefer a cold mug of mead though. Then again, nothing beats a good mug of Honeying Brew Mead,' she thought ruefully. She savored the new drink, placing it on her list of favorites that she consulted when she didn't want to get shitfaced.
The door opened again, this time a crimson haired woman walking through the door. Were all of the women of this world this beautiful? Her beauty eclipsed, or even surpassed, the woman from earlier. The woman held herself exactly how she'd imagined Diabella would. Sensually, but tempered by regality.
"I'm happy to see you finally woke up. You gave us quite the scare. I'm Rias Gremory and it is a pleasure to meet you," she greeted kindly, her voice just as regal, yet sensual.
"I am Ysara Gaerwing and the pleasure is all mine."
"My, how polite you are. With the introductions over with, let's get to the matter at hand. I am a devil and you summoned me to that park with this," she held up a piece of paper with a strange magic symbol on it, "By the time I had arrived you had already passed on, but I could tell you were something special. So I resurrected you, brought you back from death as a devil to be my servant."
Normally, she would have been outrage to be forced into servitude. However, that was before she had experienced death. Before she had seen what lay for her after death, that endless, devouring abyss. This woman saved from that place, the place no doubt meant to break her so she would have accepted Mora just to escape from it. Ysara owed this woman, Rias, more than she even knew.
Ysara slowly stood from her place on the bed, three days laying immobile leaving her stiff. Rias watched her, intrigue obvious in her blue-green eyes. Completely disregarding her nudity, Ysara kneeled before the red head.
"Rias Gremory, you have done more than simply restore me to life. You have saved my soul from a tortuous fate. Living as your servant is the least I could do to repay the debt I owe you. I, Ysara Gaerwing, last scion of the Noble House Gaerwing, swear fealty to you as my rightful liege. I am at your command, Thuri (Master)," She declared passionately. Rias' shock was written plainly on her face, though she quickly recovered and giggled.
"Yes, you are quite the interesting person Ysara. Come, let's get you dressed and introduced to the rest of my peerage," she commanded as she began walking out of the room.
"Yes, Thuri," She responded as she moved to follow, "Though if you don't mind me asking, what exactly is a devil?" she questioned curiously.
Rias pause for second before responding, slightly amused by the woman's ignorance, "It seems there's a lot more to talk about than I had first anticipated."
AN: Hope you guys enjoyed the story. Feel free to review or message me anything about the story. For all of you out there who aren't lore nuts for Elder Scrolls like I am, Thuri is what the dragons of Skyrim called Alduin. Many then transferred the title to the player character after they defeat Alduin
I haven't planned everything out for this story yet, so I'd love to hear any constructive feedback or ideas you guys have. Anything from grammar to story ideas. I'm going to leave this here for a few days before beginning the next chapter to see how it does and what the feedback is like.