AN: While delving into an ancient ruin in the middle of the Sea of Ghost, The Dovahkiin comes across an ominous black vase that is sealed.
AN: I own nothing.
Prologue
Draco Maximus was many things. One thing he wasn't was a fool. He knew the second he was dropped into this room that this was not a prize but a trap.
He eyed the solid black vase warily with his one good eye.
It was a vase of diminutive proportions standing at only two feet in height and a foot in diameter, yet something about it screamed danger. It was sealed with a black lid that had both Aedric and Daedric symbols in red upon it. It sat on a raised stand almost like an altar.
He cautiously approached the vase. He eyed the walls of the pit, looking for a slots where poisonous barbed darts may shoot from. He was sure his armor could take the the darts but he didn't want to deal with the annoyance of it.
He slowly tapped the vase with the end of the Staff of Magnus. He jumped back slightly as the vase gave a loud twang. He cocked a greying eyebrow at that. He would admit if ever asked that perhaps curiosity had overode his caution.
He growled in irritation as he succumbed to the temptation. Damn his adventurous spirit. He slowly put his hand on the lid and tore the seal as he wrenched it off. An ominous silence fell upon the room as he dropped the lid with a clatter.
He waited a few minutes before slowly drawing his prized sword Chaos and stepping close to the vase and peering inside...
It was empty.
Draco blinked in confusion as he tipped the vase over to make sure. A black dust drifted out if it and he breathed it accidentally. He coughed harshly as the dust went into his lungs. Bleary eyed from the fit he just had he eyed the vase with a look of annoyance.
"What a waste of time."
He said gruffly, his voice was deep and it resonated through the room. He looked at the edges of the pit. Now to get out of here. He noticed small bumps in the surface that could be used as handholds.
"There we go"
-Back at Breezehome that night-
Draco growled in his sleep as he broke out in a sweat. It dripped off him and soaked his sheets. His skin writhed as if it had serpents underneath it. Startled by the sudden pain his eyes snapped open.
Immediately through the pain Draco could tell something was wrong. You don't get to the age of fifty five in Tamriel for being dumb. He slowly held up a hand in front of his blind eye and froze.
He could see it.
He slowly closed his good eye and that's when the slow panic set in. He could still see it.
He jumped out of bed and ran to a mirror and he froze at his reflection. He looked as he did at least twenty years ago but wasn't the thing that startled him the most... Not only could he see out of both eyes but gone was the dark brown he had got from both his parents...
In the dim lighting he almost swore they were...silver.
"What in Oblivion is happening to me?"