Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto or the Elder Scrolls series.

The sky was burning.

In truth, it was not just the sky burning. The stars, barely visible through the clouds, were nothing more than orbs of pure heat, floating in the great Void. The stars were always visible, for there was no day in this place, no bright sun to turn its gaze upon this hell. The land, too, was burning. A seemingly endless sea of molten rock surrounded this tiny isle; the hot liquid was visible through cracks in the stony ground.

Master-Wizard Ivelaes did not like the heat. It reminded him of his first mission under the Nerevarine, when he was appointed as her new Mouth. He had been sent to Ald'ruhn, ordered to assassinate a Redoran noble. The assignment had nearly become a disaster. He had been nervous (quite understandable seeing as the Archmistress' previous Mouth was put to death after returning from a failed mission), and his nervousness had led him to blow his cover at the worst moment possible. If he had not been trained in large-scale demolition spells, he would likely have died, at the hands of the guards or of his own leader. As it was, he collapsed the noble's home, burying the man alive, and cast a spell of Recall just as the guards arrived.

"If only it were so easy now," Ivelaes thought with a frown. He had planned for the opening of the Great Gate to be brief. A small team of mages, led by him, would enter the gateway realm and cast spells of levitation, bypassing the gate guards to enter the central tower and retrieve the Great Sigil Stone. There was not supposed to be any real danger to Tel Uvirith, assuming the defenders kept the Daedra contained; the gate should have been closed before the Daedra could even start to rally their forces. How could he have known that the overwhelming energy of the Great Sigil Stone would negate their spells of levitation? He certainly had not planned for this outcome: all but three of his companions were dead, and one of the survivors was comatose. They had almost reached the Sigillum Sanguis, but at least twelve more Daedra still stood between them and their prize.

He was distracted from his thoughts by a voice. "Sir," spoke the young Dunmer, softly, "with all due respect, this may be a suicide run." Ivelaes knew the mage was right. They were outnumbered four to one, and while he was confident he could take down four of the guardians, he was not so sure about his companions' abilities. In the back of his head, he was already formulating a plan, but it was several seconds before he spoke.

"You must remain here," Ivelaes spoke, "I shall go alone to the zenith, and retrieve the Stone." His subordinates stared at him in shock, as he continued: "When the stone is displaced, this plane will collapse, and you will be sent back to our world unharmed. You would not survive the coming battle, and I will not throw away the lives of my subordinates so carelessly."

Ivelaes did not waste time listening to his followers' feeble protests. A single, quickly cast spell rendered them helpless: paralyzing, silencing, and camouflaging them all at once. Ivelaes stood stiffly. He could feel their stares though he could not see them, but he ignored their unvoiced cries and began the climb.

The battle was a display unlike any other. Ivelaes could have become Archmagister had he been born earlier, in the time of Gothren, but once the Nerevarine took power none dared to challenge her for the position. His title, Master-Wizard, was symbolic; the power he held marked him as a Master, but he retained the title of Wizard as well, to show his subservience to the true mistress of Magicka. Many of the Daedra guarding the stone had expected their opponents to be worn out from the long climb. These were the first to perish, their bodies held by ice and torn by lightning, their spirits banished to the great void. The rest were smarter, keeping their distance from the powerful Telvanni, hiding behind warding magicks that were ripped to shreds by the first assault. At last, the Dome was empty; the only sound was the high-pitched keening of the focus beam.

Ivelaes was tired. Ascending the blood-soaked steps, his body demanded that he stop and rest. Nevertheless, he pushed onwards, reminding himself that every second he wasted meant more Daedra could make it through the Gate. As he approached the stone, he swore he could hear them, roaring…

Then, it happened.

An earth-shaking crack split the endless night. Ivelaes was thrown to the ground by the unexpected noise, hurriedly grabbing for his staff in anticipation of this new threat. The whole tower gave a great lurch, as though it were ripped from its foundations. A hole opened in the dome, and Ivelaes peered outwards. He saw white, a shockingly white wall of flames, sweeping across the plane. The entire world seemed to vanish beneath it; Ivelaes thought he could see some Clannfear, tiny specks from his viewpoint, fleeing in terror. He scrambled backwards, turning towards his seeming last hope. He ran towards the Sigil Stone, whose keening was now drowned out in the roar of the white fire. The world seemed to dissolve around him as he ran. He reached out for the Stone as everything around him was consumed by light.

By Azura, the light…

It was tearing him to pieces…

Please review. I need feedback to make my stories better.