Chapter 1 - The Unbinding
-4E205 5th of Sun's Dusk-
"By Ysmir…"
At this a man turned and quirked his eyebrow at the offending source of noise. The Daedric Helmet concealed any facial movement, but he was fairly certain the point got through.
"Uh… not you Captain," the Tribune sheepishly replied. In return the imposing man could only resignedly sigh. It wasn't her fault his father had decided to name him so.
Captain Ysmir, Hammer of the Empire, slayer of Alduin, Miraak and Harkon - was on edge. Although with a numerically superior Dominion army standing a little less than half a league away from the walls of Skingrad, 'on edge' might be an understatement.
'So, they haven't besieged the city yet. We barely made it on time,' he thought. They were of course outnumbered, more than five-to-one. However, such was to be expected when they marched as hastily as possible with a ragtag force of levied soldiers from across Skyrim and the Colovian Highlands.
Still, these soldiers were some of the best, and combined with his prowess they would set the tone for the war. 'The First Battle of The Second Great War', a moment that would be remembered through the ages. One that he'd ensure would be remembered as an Imperial victory.
"They haven't seen us yet Captain, I don't think they were expecting any resistance this close to the border," his Legate spoke. True enough, the Dominion were likely expecting marshalled Imperial forces further inland he supposed. This assault would be quite the shock for them.
"Standard assault, hit them hard," he spoke while giving the cavalry a nod of understanding. Being the first ones to charge an army was a lot to ask of someone. Though Divines be damned if he'd let them fight alone; he'd be leading the first assault of the war himself.
"For the Empire!" a number of brave soldiers near him exclaimed. Soon the chant spread, and the Tribunes and Praefects began disseminating the order among the ranks. No complex battle plans or explanations were needed, every soldier knew their role in a standard assault.
With a gallop the cavalry began to surge forward, heavy knights upon armored warsteeds leading, with lighter riders on the flanks. He himself sprinted behind them in Daedric Armor, his inhumanly developed physique enabling him to keep up.
The charge was accompanied by the whizzing sounds of hundreds of spells overhead, courtesy of the Imperial Battlemages, sent toward the now aware and panicked Dominion flank. Any semblance of an attempt to form a spearwall against the charge was shattered as the volley of Fire, Ice and Shock massacred dozens of the leading Dominion soldiers.
The Infantry too were not far behind, charging across the distance, and it was then that Ysmir decided to leap. He jumped into the air, a few dozen feet, an act which undoubtedly shocked the already shaken Dominion force but was nothing new for his own soldiers.
The wind blew past as he looked down upon a group of Aldmeri Mages preparing a counter-volley of fireballs. Volendrung raised high over his head, he spoke.
"WULD NAH KEST!"
The world sped by, and in the brief moment before he hit the ground, he swung the hammer toward it.
The following shockwave of pure physical might resulted in dozens of enemy mages sent flying to their death. His own arms shook violently from the force of the hit, and if not for his unnatural hardiness he was certain even a Dragon's bones would have shattered upon that impact.
With the enemy counter-volley hindered the Imperial cavalry surged through, heavily armored warsteeds bearing ferocious knights tore straight through the opposing flank, while light cavalry rode to the sides picking off any stragglers that attempted to flee.
To their credit, the remaining Dominion Mages quickly reformed and began launching furious volleys of magic his way. The more powerful ones stung quite a bit, for such was the power of Altmer magic; but he would not be stopped.
Each swing of Volendrung sent dozens flying in a shower of blood and screams, but despite his monstrous display of power each felled enemy was replaced by two more, and once again the reality of being heavily outnumbered came to him. Unfortunately for them, each hit of Volendrung only gave him more strength to keep fighting.
He gave a quick glance back to see the main body of his army, the Infantry, had finally reached the Dominion battle lines, or what was left of them anyhow. Yet, such a charge would not make up for the huge number disparity.
He needed to find the Aldmeri commanders, and he needed to kill them. Looking down the valley he spotted what he was looking for. A group of seemingly elite soldiers surrounding a woman preparing some manner of powerful magic.
He attempted to charge forward only to grunt as an unnatural stiffness attempted to stifle his movements.
Paralysis. He should have expected it with how famous he was but feeling the effects of magic designed to stop him specifically was a different experience altogether. He roared and flexed every muscle in his body, shattering the spell restricting him in a shower of green, yet as he did many more spells of the same variety were fired at him, each one adding onto the growing burden hindering his movements.
He hammered away dozens more, yet the green bolts of magic kept assaulting him.
'Damn it! It won't be long before enough spells stack up to actually paralyze me!" he angrily thought. His own soldiers were farther away, winning decisively, but still nowhere near close enough to assist him. He was too deep within enemy ranks by himself.
He breathed out a final sigh as he felt the numerous paralysis spells begin to reach an unbearable point. 'Looks like I'll have to use that…'
"MUL QAH DIIV!"
The magic burdening him suddenly exploded outward, sending multiple Dominion soldiers to the ground. The Dragon Aspect gave him a newfound strength and hardiness, yet he could not afford to waste his time. Enough paralysis magic could still paralyze him, and added to the hundreds of fire, shock and frost spells assaulting him could certainly kill him.
He was already feeling the effects of being so furiously assaulted by magic, as pieces of his armor began to melt, shatter or fall off while his skin burned, and his bones were numbing.
He looked in the direction of the enemy commander to see his way barred by hundreds of spear wielding Dominion troops. While normally the spears would simply bounce off his skin, at the speed of 'Whirlwind Sprint' and against hundreds of sharp, pointed objects - he didn't want to test it. He needed a path first and becoming ethereal was something he would save for the direst of situations. It was time for the oldest trick in the book.
"FUS RO DAH!"
The very ground itself tore as hundreds of soldiers took to the skies to feel Kyne's embrace, and before Ysmir the path to the Dominion commander opened. Not a second was wasted as a second usage of the Thu'um left his mouth.
"WULD NAH KEST!"
He blazed toward the commander, like a whirlwind, hammer raised ready to deliver an attack similar to his opening. A barrier stopped him, and the force of meeting it at the speed of 'Whirlwind Sprint' shook his very core as the barrier itself shattered but exploded outward in a display of force strong enough to throw even him back.
'Damned Aldmeri magic… we really underestimated them,' he thought as he hastily got to his feet. The number of paralysis spells finally began to take their cumulative toll, as even in his 'Dragon Aspect' form he began to slow down, burdened by an unnatural weight akin to a small mountain.
As he made to move his instincts suddenly warned him to move, and he barely glanced at the enemy commander releasing her spell before a massive bolt of lightning shot toward him. There was no time to become ethereal, and he failed to move much as the majority of the blast hit him dead center in the back.
The raw power of the spell sent him flying away a distance as he landed flinging large clumps of dirt away.
'I'm going to die at this rate,' he thought as his entire body lightly convulsed at the sheer amount of shock magic that assaulted him. He fought to get to his feet to see the face of the Dominion commander staring him down with another spell at the ready.
"Lady Arannelya… one Great War isn't enough for you eh?" he asked, gripping his hammer in hand as he stared down the Altmer.
He received no reply as expected - they were in the middle of a battle to the death after all. Instead she beckoned her elites to charge him while she backpedaled away, preparing further magic.
No matter. She had been bested in the first Great War, and now she would be slain in the second.
A group of elites in front, hordes of lesser foes behind, and a powerful mage commander his goal. He couldn't take all of them at the same time, and so he turned toward the horde behind him.
"FAAS RU MAAR!"
The shout achieved its intended effect as the hundreds of soldiers prepared to skewer him with their spears froze in place, looks of terror upon their faces. Still, such a shout was not all powerful, and the Dominion likely had many counter Illusion mages who had rallied them, thus it was to their credit that the Dominion armies behind him did not flee outright.
He turned around to see two more powerful thunderbolts sail toward him. He sidestepped the first but staggered in place as the second impacted his shoulder. He was undeterred as he pushed forward, ignoring the pain.
He swung Volendrung in wide, careless arcs designed to clear as much space as possible while the members of Arannelya's elite fell to him by the dozen.
But they were elite for a reason, and those reasons took the painful form of dozens of cuts, stabs and wounds on his body. Wounds which would have felled even a Giant ten times over, but wounds which only made him more determined to see this through to the end.
'If I kill her and break the Dominion army here, this could decide the war,' he reasoned with the last shred of rational thought in his mind, slaying the last dozen or so of the Dominion's elites.
Arannelya stood directly in front of him, another powerful spell prepared in her hands, a smirk on her face as she made to fire. To her shock however he charged.
He charged, and just as the spell was about to connect a single word left his mouth.
"FEIM!"
He spoke as the thunderous bolt which would have slain him instead passed through, still painful due to the sheer power of the spell and the nature of shock magic, but not a killing blow.
Her shocked look as her spell failed was ended as Ysmir's hand materialized around her neck and performed a single motion.
He snapped her neck.
The battle turned the other way for the Aldmeri at the sight of their most powerful mage and core of elites being slain. The chain of command was still effective, as expected of a professional army, but they knew they had no way of stopping him now.
Slowly but surely the remaining field commanders of the Dominion began to order a retreat and cut their losses rather than be butchered by an unstoppable Dragonborn and an Imperial army.
The 'First Battle of The Second Great War' was a resounding Imperial victory.
-4E205 5th of Sun's Dusk-
"-and then our Captain just snapped her neck like a twig! By Ysm - er" she stopped. He simply sighed and gestured his Legate to go on with her story.
They were sat at in the main hall at the table of the Viscount of Skingrad who was most grateful to them for ending the Aldmeri siege before it even began. And Ysmir himself was grateful to finally have a chance to rest and heal his wounds.
His flesh was too strong and magically infused to be healed through Restoration magic or potions. The only way he could heal was through rest, Restoration magic of his own, or a particularly powerful mage healing him.
He had no interest in magic, and most mages would rather be 'powerful' mages of anything but Restoration, so he was stuck with rest.
"-victory came through his might! A toast to Captain Ysmir! Dragonborn and Hammer of The Empire!" exclaimed his Legate. 'Gods, she's certainly an enthusiastic teller of tales, isn't she?'
He half-heartedly raised his glass as the Viscount, higher ranking Imperial Officers and Knights seated at the table raised theirs and drank to his name, as strange as that sounded.
He wasn't much for verbal glory or tales, despite being Nord. He'd rather sate his lust for glory in actual battle instead, though today's fight may have taken him a little uncomfortably close to death. But such was to be expected when fighting the professional army of a powerful country.
As dire as Alduin may have seemed four years ago, facing an army among which numbered hundreds of mages was an infinitely harder ordeal. Skyrim wasn't the be-all-end-all of the world, and his introduction to previously unseen magics during the battle was a painful reminder that the other races and other lands had their own share of deadly magic, creatures and talented individuals. In fact, the very idea that this was a defensive war made him uncomfortable.
The defenders had the advantage, they could call upon most of their resources and skilled heroes, whereas the attackers were stuck with ferrying over whoever had agreed to invade. What if it was the other way around?
What manner of people called the Dominion home? Would attacking the Summerset Isles draw the attention of the Psijic Order? He didn't want to find out.
Having had enough of the stories and recounting of deeds he slipped out of the main hall. Heading through the dilapidated streets of the city which still bore the effects of the First Great War, he passed through the city gates to where some of his troops had camped, outside the city walls.
Just as Ysmir thought to join some of his soldiers for a drink his senses snapped to attention at the sound of a horn in the distance.
The noise got closer and a rider could be seen furiously galloping toward the city in the distance. As soon as the messenger saw him he called out.
"Captain Ysmir! Grave news!" he exclaimed. 'By Oblivion, is there no end to the disasters befalling us? What next? An Argonian fleet at Bravil?'
"An Argonian fleet has besieged Bravil! The An-Xileel have declared war upon The Empire!"
'I - didn't drink that much did I?' he bumbled within his head, only to widen his eyes a moment later.
"What?!"
His exclamation was interrupted by yet another messenger riding toward the gate while sounding a horn. Upon seeing him she too exclaimed.
"Captain Ysmir! Grave news!" she shouted. "An army of Orcs from Orsinium has laid siege to Bruma!"
He didn't think it was possible for the Dragonborn to trip backwards over his own two feet, but the shock value of the news made for a potent weapon. His reaction did nothing to help the confidence of the soldiers around him who had been hearing the entire thing.
"Captain Ysmir! Gra-"
The rider had no chance to finish as an angry Ysmir grabbed him off his horse and grasped him by the shoulders hard enough to tear his leather pauldrons.
"By Ysmir!" and yes, he meant Talos. "Whatin Oblivion has happened?!" he exclaimed.
"Sea Serpents my Lord! The Dominion's naval fleets ashore from Anvil have been broken by Sea Serpents!" the man quickly exclaimed.
"That's supposed to be good news damn it!" he exclaimed letting the man go. 'Is the world ending? Why would the Maormer skip the Isles and head for Anvil!'
His tactical mind immediately began working. 'A naval siege is an arduous affair, even harder for the attackers than a siege on land would be. Maybe we can turn back the An-Xileel fleets at Bravil, then stop the Maormer?'
"Captain Ysmir! Grave news!"
Never mind. The world was ending.
-4E205 29th of Evening Star-
An army of the Great Houses of Morrowind besieging Cheydinhal, a united Redguard army assaulting Chorrol, and the Dominion sending a second army straight for the Imperial City through Elsweyr.
Added to the prior news of Argonian, Orc and Maormer invasions lead Captain Ysmir to believe that he had made the right choice, in fact he was certain that the other Generals of the Empire would make the same choice for their armies too.
A total retreat of all forces to the Imperial City.
Over the last two months they had abandoned all cities and retreated as best they could, and strangely, the invaders had fought against each other as much as they fought against the Imperial Legions.
It was the correct decision, and Emperor Titus Mede II seemed to agree as well, which was why they were currently having a discussion on strategy as the Emperor sat upon the Ruby Throne.
"Your Excellency, we are all doomed," Ysmir calmly stated. It was a fact, of course the throne room was vacated beforehand for just the two of them. Otherwise the Dragonborn's words might have caused a mass rout.
"Hearing you say that - we really have no chance of a military victory, do we?" the Emperor asked.
"No. We could hopelessly attempt to use the Imperial Navy to evacuate our people through Niben Bay, but An-Xileel fleets bar the way," he answered.
"And if we broke through?"
He only sighed in response. "Then we'd have to face Dominion fleets stationed in Topal Bay."
"But aren't they fighting each other as well? Perhaps we could use that to our advantage?" Titus asked.
"Even if we did break through both fleets we'd have to contend with Maormer Sea Serpent controlled waters, and we have nowhere to go," Ysmir replied frankly.
"I see - "the Emperor said resignedly. "If it is indeed the end of the world, then I'd rather die defending the heart of the Imperial homeland than fleeing at sea."
"You've heard the oracles and prophets enough times Your Excellency," Ysmir replied. "Something is drawing everyone in the known world to the Imperial City, specifically, to the White-Gold Tower."
Over the last month every invading army had attempted to breach the city, but due to the combined power of the entire Imperial army defending it, they hadn't broken through yet. The strange part however, was that every enemy soldier captured spoke along the same lines as Imperial prophets and oracles did.
Their gods had told them to reach for the White-Gold Tower no matter the cost, for the world would be ending.
Every faction attempting to breach the city had the same motive, and honestly Ysmir could understand it. If all the priests, prophets and oracles he saw spoke with divine power telling him to reach the White-Gold Tower then he too might have listened.
Besides the invading armies the more annoying fact was all the 'refugees' and 'pilgrims' attempting to enter the city just to get closer to the Tower. Whether they were desperate people seeking refuge for their souls, or spies for the invaders, they were all turned away, and in some cases, riddled with arrows and bolts.
If the prophecy hadn't confirmed it, then the invasion from every known faction on Tamriel did.
The world was ending. The priests and prophets had said as such, and the Divines had proclaimed it through them.
"On the bright side, what else could go wrong?" he asked.
An explosive boom of thunder sounded across the sky, and suddenly the doors to the throne room slammed opened as a terrified guard shouted at the top of his lungs.
"Daedra are invading the city! It's a second Oblivion Crisis!"
Ysmir looked to the Emperor who had already drawn his sword.
"Come then Ysmir. Let us defend our Empire to the end," he stated, voice full of courage.
He sighed. "If I'm to die, it may as well be in a final glorious battle." With the words uttered he hefted Volendrung over his shoulder and stepped outside the throne room.
-4E205 29th of Evening Star-
The streets were flooded with Daedra, some of which he had never seen before, alongside dozens of portals to Oblivion open on every street.
Legionnaires bravely attempted to fight back with their lives only to be torn apart by the sheer numbers and ferocity of many of the Daedra from the deepest recesses of Oblivion.
"You think the Daedric priests got a prophecy too?" he attempted to jest. Unfortunately, it didn't work, neither for him, nor for any of the Emperor's Guard surrounding him who were all stone faced.
At least the Emperor seemed to laugh.
He watched as a four-armed snake-like Daedra tore multiple Legionnaires apart in front of them.
"Harvester!" one of the Emperor's Guard exclaimed as they began firing spells at the beast, which was soon brought down. These soldiers weren't handpicked to protect the Emperor for no reason.
"Might as well get started," Ysmir said as he walked forward facing down the horde of Daedra charging toward them.
"YOL TOOR SHUL!"
Fire powerful enough to turn stone to cinders left his mouth as he held the stream for a length of time that would make a Dragon envious. When he was a fledgling Thu'um wielder, he could only produce a short burst, over the years however he had grown.
To his credit and own bit of satisfaction, the street actually cleared out completely. Only to begin filling with Daedra again.
No shortage of Daedra to kill it seemed.
-4E205 29th of Evening Star-
They fought for many hours, hundreds of Daedra falling to the power of his Thu'um and the might of his Hammer. This time it was somewhat easier than his battle against the Dominion if only because the Daedra consisted of large amounts of lesser foes with barely any foes which could give him a challenge. The narrow streets of the Imperial City helped funnel them into a more manageable threat as well.
Odahviing had fallen an hour ago to a number of Daedric Titans, and Durnehviir had been defeated and sent back to the Cairn a while before. They had both terrorized the skies and slain countless Winged Twilights and Daedric Titans.
"May they all find peace in the next world," he said to himself as he looked over the fallen body of the Emperor surrounded by his Guards. They had fallen to a group of particularly powerful Daedra known as Xivkyn.
He smashed the head of a Daedric Titan into pulp as he walked the streets of the now dead Imperial City, the sounds of battle having stopped many hours ago, signifying the eradication of the Legions within.
Their souls would find peace in Aetherius.
Another horde of Dremora took pause before him. Within the narrow confines of the streets they couldn't hope to surround him let alone overwhelm him. They knew it as well, yet they still charged for some reason.
"Will I ever meet a stronger foe?" he complained as he stepped forth, Volendrung in hand.
-4E205 30th of Evening Star-
As the moon aligned directly overhead he heard the opening of a portal above him.
He looked up to see a gigantic red flaming fist coming down.
-4E205 30th of Evening Star-
So, this was what death felt like? He moved his ethereal limbs around, curious at how surprisingly similar it felt compared to his physical form. He was expecting himself to be weak, though he supposed it made sense considering the ancient Nord Heroes of Sovngarde also retained their strength when they fought Alduin.
He looked around to see he was still in the Imperial City, although with one distinction. There was a massive glowing dragon sitting atop the White-Gold Tower.
'Akatosh?' he wondered. It would make sense considering that he was Dovahkiin, a mortal blessed by Akatosh himself, so returning to his creator was only natural.
What was not natural was Akatosh opening his maw wide and beginning to pull everything inside.
'What in Oblivion?!'
Ysmir frantically looked around to see buildings, Daedra and even - Mehrunes Dagon himself being pulled toward Akatosh's maw.
The very earth itself, and even Nirn flew towards the dragon's open mouth as he himself was brought along with it.
He had no time to think, no moment to react as he was consumed by a blinding bright light.
-4E201 17th of Last Seed-
Ysmir's eyes opened to a strange scene. His vision was still blurry, although he knew he was sitting down. He could hear the trotting of horses, the turning of carriage wheels. He was on a carriage?
His eyes slowly opened to find himself seated in the back of a carriage. In front of him was some blonde-haired Nord who looked suspiciously like himself four years ago, and to the Nord's left was another Nord with brown hair, and sitting to his right was…
"Hey you. You're finally awake. You were trying to cross-"
"No - it can't be possible. I killed you!" he shouted at the traitor Ulfric who seemed to be taken aback by the strange man.
"Wait a minute - you looked different a few moments ago. What magic are you using? Who are you?" Ralof asked him. Ysmir however was in a completely different world and couldn't be bothered to pay heed to the misguided Stormcloak he remembered all too well.
"Shut up back there!" the Imperial carriage driver barked.
'I'm back - but how? Akatosh?' Whatever had happened to send him back in time wasn't possible. The only other thing capable of going back through time was an Elder Scroll, and that caused a Dragon Break. Was this it?
Impossible, there were no Elder Scrolls being used when Akatosh swallowed everything whole. Dragon Breaks had no effect upon the Divines and Daedric Princes. For that matter Akatosh couldn't have swallowed everything, including another Daedric Prince.
He was the leader of the Divines, but he certainly wasn't powerful enough to absorb Mehrunes Dagon. He needed to see if any of the Divines or Daedric Princes knew of what happened.
"Damn it all - all I have are more questions and no answers," Ysmir growled out frustatingly.
"Hey! Are you going to answer me? What are you playing at? And what do you mean I 'killed' you?" Ralof asked pointedly.
"I somehow came back through time - I - can't believe it," Ysmir blankly answered.
"You're right, I don't believe it either," Ralof replied. "Came back through time - let me guess? Skyrim's still under Imperial control in the future?" he mocked.
"Yes actually. I killed the filthy traitor staining the seat next to me with my own two hands," Ysmir replied.
"Watch your tongue! You're speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King!" Ralof exclaimed, a mixture of anger and disgust in his voice, yet also a strange bit of fear. Ysmir had that effect on lesser people sometimes.
"Ah yes - the rightful High King who murdered Torygg, attacked the neutral city of Whiterun unprovoked, wants Skyrim to be only for the Nords, claims to worship Talos while breaking the Empire he created, all while ignoring the true threat that is the Thalmor simply so he can bask in the temporary satisfaction of being independent and of course, having power all to himself," Ysmir brutally shot back. "True High King indeed."
Ulfric could only stare at the massive man with widened eyes, shocked and with a mix of fear.
"Ulfric? The Jarl of Windhelm? You're the leader of the rebellion. But if they captured you - oh Gods, where are they taking us?" the other Nord asked, terror in his voice.
"An execution, but don't worry the World Eater will show up to stop it - unless you're the first one lined up for the block. Tough luck if you are," Ysmir consoled the Nord who only stared at him incredulously.
"S-silence! I'll not hear anymore of your lies!" Ralof tried to escape, unfortunately for him the damage was done. "The Empire supports the Thalmor by signing the White-Gold Concordat!" he desperately attempted to fire back.
Ysmir released an exhausted sigh. "The dangers of ignorance," he lamented to himself. "Do you really think the Empire wanted to outlaw the worship of Talos? Who do you think proposed the Concordat in the first place?" he prodded. "If the Empire truly wanted to outlaw Talos worship they would have done it earlier."
"But they signed it all the same and betrayed us!"
"We're in this together. We all lost to the Thalmor, and we were collectively forced to sign the Concordat. The Empire isn't your enemy, the Thalmor is," he attempted to persuade.
"But it-"
"Hurting your own side by breaking away won't help you, it'll only help the Thalmor," he finished. "Your own pride in being able to worship Talos again will matter little when the Thalmor crush the Empire, and then move toward Skyrim."
Well, Ysmir did believe he was quite the silver tongue, and it worked. Ralof seemed to hang his head low and look to the ground, and to his right Ulfric was seething in rage looking to protest but unable to due to his rags.
"It matters little now - we're all headed for the headsman's block," Ralof said in a dejected manner.
"Yes, you ended up dying despite not reaching the block anyhow, I'm not sure the Empire will let you go considering that you're a Stormcloak who fought against them already," he absently replied, his focus on something else. Specifically, an old friend who was riding behind them.
"Hadvar!" he exclaimed upon seeing his old friend. He had lost track of him after marching out to battle the Dominion near Skingrad, but he was certain the tough Legionnaire managed to hold out all the way till the final battle in the Imperial City.
"Uh - do I know you?" he asked, much to the sadness of Ysmir.
Ysmir laughed in an exaggerated manner, if only to cover up the disappointment. "Not yet Hadvar, but you and I are going to be good friends," he remarked with a cheerful grin which made everyone aboard the carriage stare at him suspiciously.
"Right - good friends for the entirety of a few minutes I'm sure," he humored. "You're headed for the block, can't you tell?" Hadvar asked him, clearly curious about this suddenly cheerful massive man who he never remembered seeing on the carriage.
"Yes, but I'm not a filthy Stormcloak traitor, and as long as I explain that to General Tullius and show him my mark of the Tenth Legion I should be fine," Ysmir explained much to the absolute disbelief of everyone present including the carriage driver who managed to overhear the conversation.
"You what?!" the driver exclaimed. "You were a member of the Tenth Legion?! That's the most decorated Legion in Imperial history!"
Ysmir gave an embarrassed cough in reply. "Well, it's true that they only recruit from the very best, after all, a Legion involved with the Invasion of Akavir and the Great War is rather prestigious," he explained. "But yes, I was a member of the Tenth Legion; used to be a Captain too," he fondly recollected.
"Count me impressed, not often I meet a member of the best Legion in the Empire," the driver mused. "Also not often I meet a traitor member of the best Legion. Nice try with the story, but that won't fly," the driver cruelly shut down.
Ysmir quirked an annoyed eyebrow at the man, but he could understand where the suspicion came from. Many of the traitors were former Legion veterans after all.
"If you're some man from the future, then why are you still waiting here anyway? Don't you have important things to do?" the brown-haired Nord asked.
"There's an annoying wyrm I need to crush," Ysmir said smirking at the insult. Alduin never liked being called anything but a Dragon, and even then he was dissatisfied.
"A worm? Did some spy set you up here?" Ralof curiously asked, missing the intended meaning of the word.
"You'll see," remarked Ysmir as he hopped off the carriage without being told to earning him multiple drawn swords from the Imperials surrounding him.
"Halt! Don't move a muscle prisoner!" the corrupt Captain threatened. 'Ugh - I have to find some way to get rid of this scum. Filth like this is the reason why so many misguided young Nords join the rebellion.'
"Uh - oops!" Ysmir jested as he flexed the muscles on his massive arms causing a few of the Legionnaires to chuckle and utter a few impressed mutters.
"I'm warning you!" she threatened.
"Alright enough with the insecure displays of power, I want to speak to General Tullius," Ysmir demanded in a tone that suddenly caused the Captain to take a step back and the soldiers to stand up a bit straighter.
The General himself seemed to notice the tension a few feet away and rode over to see what was going on.
"And what's going on here Captain?" the General asked.
"Nothing sir, this prisoner-"
"Excuse me General Tullius sir," Ysmir interrupted with the voice of authority which once again shut the corrupt Captain up. "I am Captain Ysmir, formerly of the Empire's Tenth Legion and I happen to find myself in a rather embarrassing misunderstanding."
"Impossible, I personally know every Captain and Legate of the Tenth by name. What are you trying to pull?" Tullius asked with an edge to his voice.
"I'd show you if you could take the binds off? I'd do it myself but that would only serve to make the jumpy Captain here even jumpier," he teased with an underlying edge of his own. He'd be making sure she died soon.
The General simply raised an eyebrow at this and decided to humor Ysmir. "Do it yourself then."
With a snap the hardened leather binds ripped apart easier than a child ripping parchment. Ysmir then proceeded to lift the rags he wore to just above his upper arm thereby revealing the mark of the Tenth Legion, an action and reveal which prompted a number of gasps and dramatic mutterings among the soldiers.
"I see," the General mused to himself. He then turned to the Captain and spoke, "Where did you find him Captain?"
"I - I'm not sure sir," the Captain answered guiltily, truly unsure of where this massive man had come from.
General Tullius sighed at his subordinate's failure to answer such a basic question and spoke. "Does anyone here know where this man came from? Who brought him in?"
After a few moments of silence mixed in with confused mutterings among the Legionnaires Hadvar spoke up.
"None of know sir, furthermore, he isn't on the list at all," Hadvar answered truthfully.
"Hmm - well, seeing as nobody knows where this mystery prisoner came from, how about you tell me where you came from yourself?" General Tullius asked.
"I came here from the future, I think Akatosh sent me," Ysmir answered truthfully. He'd need to get the truth out as quickly as possible in order to make preparations for the Second Great War, or as he now decided to call it, The End of The World.
General Tullius sighed as a few snickers grew into laughter from the surrounding soldiers. "Well Captain, I'm sure you're aware that answering any questions from superior Officers is part of the Legion's military doctrine," he politely informed. "Can I get the real reason?"
"I suppose I was crossing the border - legally of course! And for some reason I came across a battle between Imperials and Stormcloaks into which I was drawn, and then through a number of misunderstandings I ended up here," he explained, not caring to repeat the fact that he crossed the border illegally the first time.
"Uh-huh, well that sounds far more believable than your first story," Tullius replied. The General seemed to take a few moments to muse over what he had heard and then finally spoke.
"You're not on the list, you're not wearing Stormcloak gear, and none of my Legionnaires recognize you; which is rather strange since I'm certain everyone would remember a hulking behemoth of your size - especially in a fight," Tullius added.
"Why thank you General, Akatosh seemed polite enough to send me back with my future body," he replied with honesty.
"Right," Tullius drawled, "Anyhow, seeing as you're not guilty of anything I can think of, and seeing that you're a Captain of the Tenth Legion with an authentic mark, I have no choice but to let you go."
"Thank you General, it's good to see the Empire abiding by procedure, but I'd like to ask one small favor of you if possible," Ysmir asked in as patronizing a tone as he could muster.
"And what would that be exactly?" the good General asked once again being remarkably patient with the strange Nord.
"Please have the traitor Ulfric Stormcloak executed first."
"…"
General Tullius sighed. "Fine - just get it over with," he beckoned to the corrupt Captain. "Truth be told, I was considering that option myself."
"Of course, it would be most unfortunate if he was the second execution and a dragon came along and interrupted it right?" Ysmir mused earning an eyeroll from General Tullius who lacked the energy to put up with the blonde Nord's antics.
The other Stormcloaks began causing a ruckus at the news of course, but he cared little for the feelings of traitors who placed their own selfish ideals of freedom above the common good of defeating the Thalmor.
'And speaking of the Thalmor.'
"Don't look now General, but I think Ambassador Elenwen is coming your way," he warned Tullius as the leader of the Thalmor in Skyrim approached the two, seemingly annoyed at being left out of the loop.
"General, I wasn't aware you were planning on having Ulfric executed first," mused the Ambassador as she walked between them.
"Yes, I was considering the option, and a last moment consultation by the Captainhere swayed my mind," replied General Tullius.
"Oh? Such a shame then; I was hoping to see a few warm up executions beforehand. As before General, I must advise against having Ulfric Stormcloak executed here in Helgen. The capital is the best place for such things," said Elenwen.
Ysmir knew Elenwen was a clever snake. No doubt she would have had Ulfric broken free if he was transported to Solitude; after all, the only ones benefitting from a prolonged Civil War were the Thalmor.
Still, it was to General Tullius's credit that he saw through the scheme and decided to have Ulfric executed then and there at Helgen as the General would tell him sometime in the future. Tullius was a loyal man and a good general, one that fought not only the Stormcloaks, but the Thalmor in the shadows as well.
"I'll have to respectfully decline that counsel Ambassador," Tullius replied shutting her down.
"Such a shame indeed," she mused in a feigned sad tone, but her eyes then drifted to Ysmir. "Say, weren't you one of the prisoners on the carriage? Yet here you stand, free of your bonds, I wonder what the story is behind that."
"The Captain's one of my own men, he did his job so well that we had some confusion in setting him free," said the General as he gave Ysmir a sideways glance urging him to play along.
Tullius was likely attempting to help Ysmir, after all, the only thing stopping the Thalmor from questioning him later was his Legionnaire status. Unfortunately for Tullius, Ysmir had no intentions of playing along.
"Truly? I have a hard time picturing how a massive Nord like yourself could ever go undercover; although, the Stormcloaks do value strength," Elenwen replied, her suspicions allayed for the time being.
The conversation was halted as the leader of the rebellion was shoved onto the block and rudely had his head kicked down onto it. Ulfric struggled and was beginning to give the soldiers some trouble until the on-duty Battlemage came along and hit him with a Paralysis spell, he went limp after that.
"Get on with it! Chop his head off!" Ysmir exclaimed much to the astonishment of everyone else. Yet, the headsman seemed to oblige.
*Thwack*
-4E201 17th of Last Seed-
Ulfric Stormcloak was executed at Helgen.
"Finally!" Ysmir exclaimed with an all-too-happy smile while staring at the traitor's rolling head, which horrified the remaining Stormcloaks and produced an incredulous stare from Elenwen.
"That's a rather - excitable operative you have there General. How did he come to hold the rank of Captain again?" Elenwen asked, eyebrow raised.
"I'm afraid that's classified," Tullius curtly replied, still trying to courteously cover for Ysmir. Tullius didn't have to, and the act would be up soon, but the Dovahkiin still appreciated the thought.
Suddenly a devilish smile came upon Ysmir's face as he heard the roar of his approaching quarry. A smile which quickly faded as he wondered why exactly Alduin was here the first time. Was he here for him? It would make sense - killing the one being that could end your life, but over the years he came to realize something.
Alduin was weak, and Ysmir himself wasn't truly required to slay him.
The Dragonrend shout was one that could be learnt and used by any skilled tongue, and once the wyrm was on the ground then any warrior or mage of sufficient skill could easily do the deed.
'For all his bluster, Alduin isn't even a worm to the truly powerful,' Ysmir thought, recalling the awe-inspiring sight of Mehrunes Dagon's true form slaying him with a single blow in his final moments. For that matter, neither was he, although he'd be damned if Alduin wasn't a worm to him as well by this point.
As the headsman raised his axe high ready to end Ralof's life, Ysmir steeled himself ready to end one of the greatest threats to Skyrim.
"What in Oblivion is that!?" General Tullius exclaimed as the black visage of Alduin flew across the sky. There would be no dramatic entrance for Alduin today.
"JOOR ZAH FRUL!"
The words of power left his mouth and manifested as the Thu'um. The very essence of what it meant to be mortal assaulted Alduin, causing him to shriek in terror as he attempted to erratically maintain his flight.
He would be going down soon, but Ysmir was at the end of his patience. He wanted him down on the ground now. He stepped toward one of the now empty prisoner carriages and grabbed the two wooden handles which would normally be fastened to a horse. He lifted it over and held it, intending on using the carriage as a club.
'Never tried this with a carriage - but there's a first time for everything,' he thought as he gripped the transport, improvising due to a lack of any other suitable weapons.
"WULD NAH KEST!"
As he blitzed toward the falling Dragon, the carriage swung towards Alduin's head at a speed near invisible to the mortal eye. With a deafening shatter of wood and a shower of splinters, the World Eater was sent flying out of the air and straight into a stone tower which was sent toppling over due to the force of a Dragon being smashed into it.
"Dovahkiin?! Hi los mul! How are you this powerful?!" Alduin roared in agony as he dislodged himself from the rubbles of the fallen tower, much of which was painfully embedded in his scales which were profusely bleeding.
"So, you don't know then?" Ysmir disappointedly mused as he landed upon the ground and began walking toward the Dragon. It was a small hope, seeing Alduin had survived a Dragon Break, that perhaps the World Eater would know what had happened.
"It must be an Elder Scroll! You were sent through time!" The Dragon roared and got to his feet as Ysmir stepped ever closer.
"I was sent through time, but I'm certain it was no Elder Scroll. Rather it was Akatosh, but something felt strange about it," he added, still trying to glean answers even in the midst of a battle. Though it was against a foe now his utter inferior.
"Enough talk, Dovahkiin, nu hin sil dii!" Alduin threatened to devour his soul as his maw opened, preparing to utter a shout.
Ysmir would not let it be as he leapt forward, seizing the World Eater by the jaws, his inhuman strength borne of the power of the dragon blood allowing him to hold the Dragon's jaws open despite Alduin's struggle against it.
'This feels strange - I hope to forget what I'm about do,' Ysmir thought as he held Alduin's maw open with his mighty arms. 'Ugh - his breath smells fouler than a Namira worshiper.'
"YOL TOOR SHUL!"
The flames surged within Alduin who had no time to screech, no moment to roar, and as his physical form was destroyed he had no words to utter. Ysmir took a few steps back as the World Eater's visage began glowing with power, his soul leaving his body and going back to Akatosh.
'I couldn't absorb his soul, but that's because I was competing against a Divine. Could a Daedric Prince do it?' Ysmir pondered as he watched the last vestiges of Alduin's soul leave the mortal plane.
'Could I do it if I grew powerful enough?'
His thoughts ended with a loud explosion of power from the now shattered corpse of the Dragon, which was quickly dissolving.
He turned back to the now shocked crowed of Imperials, traitors, General Tullius and Elenwen.
"So - you have questions?"
-4E205 29th of Evening Star-
It had been a good four years. Killing Miraak immediately upon their first encounter, slaying Harkon without the use of Auriel's Bow. Of course, the incident in Helgen needed a proper cover up, which Ysmir was all to happy to assist with by ensuring that Elenwen and her Thalmor had been killed in a 'Stormcloak' raid en route to the Embassy.
Proving his absurd claims about being from the future were easier once he began parroting off future events and top-secret military secrets like a bard reciting limericks. The support of General Tullius and eventually, the Emperor himself ensured that Ysmir's warnings were taken seriously.
The attempts to understand what exactly happened last time had turned up a few interesting findings. For starters, none of the Daedric Princes knew what happened. Clavicus Vile, Malacath, Hermaeus Mora the Prince of Knowledge. None of them had any idea of what had transpired or what was going to transpire, though Mora did want to pry the knowledge from his mind. Something he thankfully evaded.
His attempts to communicate with the Divines too were fruitless. The few things their priests and prophets told him were of no help, and even a visit to Sovngarde to ask anyone there proved useless. He needed a direct audience with a Divine, but he knew not how to get it.
Still, the four years were not wasted, but instead were fraught with determined preparations.
Thus, they currently stood within the Imperial City, Legions of well prepared soldiers defending it against the current Daedric Invasion while the walls themselves were abandoned to allow the invaders in so that they could 'help' with the Daedra too.
The last bit about the walls may have produced some pointed concerns about his sanity, but Ysmir waved them off. His penchant for following through with insane and borderline suicidal plans was legendary, even in his original time.
Still, they had a plan for dealing with the true foe that was Mehrunes Dagon. A battery of mages laboring for days had prepared massive ritual Destruction spells which would undoubtedly hurt the Prince and failing that they had a Legion of elite Guard equipped with the most powerful artifacts and equipment the Dovahkiin and the Empire itself could scrounge up.
The moon finally turned directly to the center of the night sky overhead, and the time had come.
-4E205 30th of Evening Star-
The Legions were prepared. The Battlemages were ready, and as Mehrunes Dagon's true form began to enter Mundus they fired the arduously prepared and lethally destructive magic directly at him.
"It's working! I think he's being pushed back!" Ysmir exclaimed.
Unfortunately for Ysmir, his observations were incorrect.
Mehrunes Dagon produced a guttural growl which shook everyone save the most powerful present, and then proceeded to bring all four of his fists down toward the White-Gold Tower.
'N-not like this!' Ysmir desperately thought as he leapt off the Tower.
"WULD NAH KEST!"
He sped through the air and turned around to see the White-Gold Tower being smashed down to rubble all the way to ground level. The sheer power of the Prince of Destruction's strike caused an annihilating shockwave of fire, consuming everything.
A shockwave that was coming for him!
-4E 30th of Evening Star-
Was this the end? He had failed.
Despite being given a second chance by what seemed to be Akatosh he still could not stop the destruction of the Imperial City and the Empire. But how could he?
He recalled the terrifying true power of a Daedric Prince and lost all heart. The attack had not even directly hit him, yet even its shockwave was powerful enough to annihilate everything in its path. What could a mortal, a mere man blessed by Akatosh do against the true power of a God?
Just as all hope seemed lost his mind froze at a familiar sight once more.
Akatosh!
The annihilated remains of the Imperial City were beginning to be pulled towards the Dragon-God's open maw once more, and this time Ysmir did not resist as a blinding bright light consumed him.
-4E201 17th of Last Seed-
"Hey you. You're finally awake. You were trying to cross the border, right? Walked right into that Imperial ambush, same as us, and that thief over there."
Ysmir could only give Ralof a blank stare with hollow eyes which unnerved the man.
"Er - wait a moment, who are you? What manner of sorcery are you using? Where's the Nord that was here just now?" Ralof pointedly asked in typical fashion as last time.
'It can't be - am I caught in a loop?' Ysmir thought. But what was he supposed to do? If he truly was sent back in time again, and if his prediction was correct, again and again, then how would he do anything to stop the end of the world?
"I can't - I'm just a man, not a God, how am I supposed to succeed in such a task?" he called out to Akatosh. No response, what did he expect?
"It's that kind of thinking; holds men back," Ralof chimed in. "Tiber Septim was a man, but he became a God, didn't he?" he added, further going on about how the Empire wanted to ban his rightful worship.
Ralof then went on to again pointedly demand an answer for his transformation, but Ysmir paid it no heed. For he was now deep in thought.
'Is he right? Could I possibly become a God?' Ysmir thought, but as soon as he did he squashed the dream like notion. It was impossible, the only mortals he had heard of ascending were Talos and the Tribunal, and in both cases, there were no records stating how they had done it.
The myths supposedly claimed the Tribunal used the Heart of Lorkhan, but there was no way he could find that when thousands of scholars across the ages failed before him. His thoughts next shifted to Talos, a topic closer to home.
There was no written record of how he achieved it, no records that he knew of at least.
That was it! 'No records that I know of, but I have four years - and if events are to be believed, all the time in the world,' he excitedly thought. He could travel, find out what he needed to know, and then return to the Imperial City in time to reset.
Further paths began to flood his mind and the beginnings of a plan began to take shape.
It wasn't just knowledge, but valuable skills, secrets - power. He could acquire it all with this newfound blessing Akatosh had given him. In fact, he already felt the difference. He was at least twice as physically strong compared to his original time's body, the effects of the consumption of near a hundred more Dragon Souls no doubt.
'With this - perhaps I really could aim to become a God,' Ysmir thought. His body went back with him, and as long as he claimed the souls of enough dragons each time he would never age, much like Miraak himself.
It would be a journey of much pain, suffering and the straining of the limits of his willpower, but he could do it. Akatosh had given him the ultimate path, and Ysmir swore he would repay the Dragon-God by completing whatever objective his creator was relying upon him to achieve.
"Are you even listening?!" Ralof barked. "What do you have to say for yourself?"
A good question, if from an ignorant source.
"I - have work to do."
Indeed, he did, for he had received a gift no other mortal he knew of had received.
He was unbound from time.
A/N - It's been a while, and fret not to followers of my other story, that one will be updated soon. This was more of a writing exercise and a warm up of getting back to it.
I have the specific idea for this story prepared, including a setting, lore and an ending, however the in between parts of the loop are still unplanned, so I'll be fleshing it out as I go.
Some of you might be wondering, OP Dovahkiin, and yes, he is OP but not relative to the story since he'll have to face foes which are well beyond the range of mortals.