Prologue
His ascendancy was assured. The Didacts' new purpose now clear. The armored human had thwarted his efforts, yes, but that did not quash his spirits. His goal still remained. He needed more Prometheans, more warriors willing to put their renewed lives in danger in order to restore Forerunner dominance.
There was one problem: the damned being's ancilla. She had disrupted much of the Composers' power, causing a breakdown, and then a reboot. However, he could still process a small population at a time, rather than all at once... but then this 'Cortana' as the AI was so dearly named, had made duplicates of herself.
The Didact was close, this close to crushing the hamanune warrior, when she had jumped him, infiltrated his armor's systems, and allowed for the Spartan to shove him down into the Composer's slipspace portal. He literally had the human in his grasp.
At first, he was enraged at his failure, but then quickly righted himself. He realized, he would only be transported to some desolate location, far from his enemies, but with time to think.
At first, as he fell, everything was nauseating, and vacuum shrieked through his helmet's filters. Then, there was the dull thump of hitting ground, the chilling feeling of winter's cold grasp... and faintly hearing the gravel crunching sound of approaching footsteps.
Chapter 1
Morgan Freeman cleared his throat, sipped a bit of his tea, and smiled at the Promethean General. Standing in a black room, with lighting that illuminated only around the center where they both sat, he might as well give his attention to this human.
"Welcome to your dream. I'm sure you know, that by now, you have entered.. another world." The aged man set down his teacup onto the end table.
"What happened? I demand an answer! What is the current fate of the human race?"
"I will tell you a few things, things you're going to need to know if you want to survive within the next few hours."
"Hmph. Very well. As a foreword, before I arrived here, I was creating more warriors to assist me in my efforts to cleanse the universe of taint and peril. Now... I am asleep, I take it?"
"Correct." Freeman took his cup and sipped once more. The Didacts' mission did not seem to bother him in the slightest. He smiled before saying, "Now, I am not the one that you may have heard approaching you.. I am what remains of your damaged Ancilla. The Librarian is indeed a very cunning being, planning everything with her geas."
"I suspected my fate was of her doing. She always did want to protect me, despite all that I've done."
"Mm. Now, before I let you regain your consciousness, you must be aware: the world you are entering is not of this universe. The Composers' over reaction caused you to jump all the way to a planet I have designate as Nirn. There are humans, but also subspecies that are humanoid."
"You mean... evolved beings? Interesting... but I digress. I must get away from this system. I must revive the Forerunners. I will not be held accountable for the death of my people!"
Morgan Freeman smiled and stood up, before adding,"In time.. you'll see. For now, find your allies. Help this world. Then leave."
"But I-"
"I can smell you."
The Didact did not finish, as everything faded to black, and the sound of hooves clopping on stone grew ever the louder.
Chapter 2
"Each one of these souls is finite and precious. And I'm close. Close to saving them all."
...my wife... why do I hold the thought that you are not dead?
He began to stir, slowly coming to. Everything at first was a hazy grey that only allowed him to see a mere few inches. After blinking a few times, everything came in to view. The Didact was bound at his hands, sitting along one of the seats in the back of a carriage. Inhaling, he could smell the sweet scent of wild pines and lush flora.
So this is nurn. This would have made a nice haven for the survivors.
It wasn't until now that he realized his predicament: he was being transported in a line of two wagons, and as a prisoner. Looking over, he saw a human, fair-skinned with a full mustache that flowed down into his groomed beard. He was bound and gagged. He seemed to be wearing a tunic/robe that was a shade of ocean blue, much like the other man across from him.
He waited for his armor to scan his memories, so that he would easily know who-
With shock, the Didact examined himself. He was not wearing his armor. He had a simple pair of stained leggings and a rough shirt that had a thin rope tied around his waist. How hard had he hit? There was no way in the Ecumene he had lost his armor to these lesser creatures. Few things ever made his blood boil, including The Librarian's temperance, and his armor being stolen.
"Hey. You! You're finally awake! Name's Ralof. You were trying to cross the border, right? Walked right into that imperial ambush, just like us...and that thief over there."
The blonde Nord lightly jerked his head, gesturing to a bruised and dirt-covered man. The Didact wondered if the beasts even bathed.
The thief sneered,"Damn you, Stormcloaks. Skyrim was fine until you came along. Empire was nice and lazy. If they hadn't been looking for you, I could've stolen that horse and been halfway to Hammerfell."
Thieves and vermin, all of them. What did you see in them, my love?
The thief faced the Didact, unaware of the god-like presence before him.
"You there, you and me. We shouldn't be here. It's these Stormcloaks the Empire wants."
Ralof smirked,"We're all brothers and sisters in binds now, thief-"
"Shut up back there!", the Imperial guiding the cart barked.
The Didact cared not for the words being passed around, and decided to drown away his attention. He overheard, however, that the finely dressed man was named Ulfric Stormcloak, an obviously important individual. He pieced together what was to come next: A massive execution. This made the Thief even more afraid, as the group wheeled through an arched gate, into a fort of stone.
An imperial balled his fist and clapped it against his breast as he greeted what appeared to be the leader, "Hail, General Tullius!" The armored one in charge nodded and returned to his conversation with a woman who had yellow skin, and sharp features that were only accentuated by the black and gold armor she wore.
So this might be a subspecies, Didact mused. I cannot pass judgment until I meet one in person. Where is my damned armor? Could they have melted it? Where can I-
He jerked sideways as the carriage came to a stop. At least now he could stretch his legs. he felt a little stiff around his calves, due to the awkward position his slightly larger stature demanded he sit in.
"What's happening? Why are we stopping?" The thief asked, eyes darting around.
Ralof glanced over to him as he go up to exit, "What do you think? End of the line."
The Promethean huffed. Surely they could plan a means to escape, one should not accept death so quickly. There was too much to be accomplished. Hopping down onto the gravel, he walked over to the beginning of a line where each person stood up to an armored female and a man writing on a scroll stood, then proceeded to gather around a masked man with an unusually large battle axe.
Their females act as warriors? All the better. They may be better as life workers and miners. These specimens in particular seem so wea-
"Step toward the block when we call your name, one at a time! " The armored one yelled.
The brown haired man announced, "Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm."
The Nord walked proud while bound, getting praises from his followers as he did so.
Ralofs' face flashed sorrow, then resolve,"It has been an honor.. Jarl Ulfric."
The Imperial called off the next name. "Ralof of River wood."
Ralof nodded to The Didact, and lumbered toward the 'chopping block'.
The one in brown scribbled off another name. "Lokir of Rorikstead."
Lokir stepped toward the two, toward the way they came. "No! I'm not a rebel! You can't do this!" He dashed off, past the captain, up the incline.
She screamed,"Halt! Archers!"
Knocking and pulling back their arrows, Lokir jerked several times and fell as the projectiles pierced him. No one screamed, and no one cheered.
The steel-clad woman growled,"Anyone else feel like running?"
No. Were my hands to be free, I would only need to reach out and pluck your life out of existence.
"Wait. You there. Step forward."
The Forerunner tread his way forward, easily towering over them both by half-a-foot.
"Who. Are you?" The Didac could now see that his armor had stitching that read Hadvar.
He cleared his throat, finally able to speak. It sounded like a deep rumble, as if a gigantic slab of stone was slowly grinding across a canyon.
"I.. am the Didact. Servant to the Mantle, survivor of a long dead race, and the one who watched your lives grow. Time has abandoned all of you it seems, as none of you look to be aware th-"
"You from one of the strongholds, Orc? How did you end up here? Captain, what should we do? He's not on the list." Hadvar seemed to not care at all who he was.
The female shook her head. "Forget the list. He goes to the block."
Such arrogance! I swear by the Ecumene, you will be among the first I kill!
"By your orders, captain. Follow the captain, prisoner."
Momentarily defeated, The Didact bowed his head. "As you say."
They all gathered around as Tullius mocked Ulfric, as if to sodden his name before his honor-less death.
"Ulfric Stormcloak. some here in Helgen call you a hero. But a hero doesn't use a power like the Voice to murder his king and usurp his throne."
This elicited a frustrated grunt from the Nord.
"You started this war, plunged Skyrim into chaos, and now the Empire is going to put you down to restore the peace."
Then there it was. A wail, no, a roar of some kind echoed across the sky, from the mountains. Could it be? The prisoner from Charum Hakkor? No, not here. I may very well be the only one from my universe. Or Era for that matter.
Hadvar shifted uneasily."Did you hear that?"
Though Tullius waved him off. "Its nothing. Carry on."
The armored woman clapped her fist against her chest-plate. "Yes, General Tullius."
Ever the lapdog, aren't you?
As a hooded priestess was interrupted by an impatient Stormcloak, another roar echoed through the sky. Didact could feel the vibrations throughout his bones. Now Hadvar was feeling like Lokir... but he had orders. He stood at attention but said, "There it is again. Do you hear that?"
The Imperial woman, Lucretia, simply rolled her eyes.
"Shut up, so we can get on with this."
The stormcloak who refused to have his name crouched down toward the block and mocked, "My gods are smiling at me, Imperials. Can you say the same?"
Lucretia placed her boot at the fool's back, keeping him in place. She nodded to the headsmen, and the axe was raised. It came down with the most sudden thwack. Everyone but The Promethean jumped at the sight.
Cheers and insults were thrown all around.
"You Imperial bastards!"
"Justice!"
"Death to the Stormcloaks!"
What savagery. They do not understand what an honorable death is. All this talk of false gods, and presuming to know where their fates lie.. The Librarian would be very disappointed.
"Next, the deformed Orismer!" Lucretia pointed right at him.
'Deformed Orismer'?
Hadvar noticed the look of death in Didacts' eyes, and warned, "To the block, prisoner. Nice and easy."
Might as well, he thought as he walked forward. I could probably take hold of that Tullius and use him to-
A sharp shove to the brick of wood was more than enough to stop him from thinking about freedom. He looked up towards the sky, the fattened man, a tall stone tower... and a gliding black figure. Another bone-rattling bellow. This time, everyone took notice.
Lucretia drew her sword, eyes scanning. "Sentries! What do you see?"
"Dragon!"
Dragon? Ah yes, a mythical hamanune creature that apparently can smite their enemies with a biological flame, ice, what have you. I have heard rumors of some that use voices to pulverize their prey.
There it was. The beast, horned, scaled, and with eyes that were as red as hardlight energy. It noticed The Didact, ignoring arrows as though they were gnats, and released a shockwave of grey-blue energy that knocked the Headsman off his feet.
Chapter 3
Everything in that one moment exploded into ataxia. The Forerunner General stumbled over, using his bound hands to keep from smashing his face.
What- such power, I must have it! Wait, its Ralof! Perhaps he can show me the way.
Ralof was motioning for him to follow. "C'mon! The gods won't give us another chance!"
Indeed. "Lead the way, Ralof."
He looked back, seeing the headsman, who was lying crumpled against a rock, and various sized chunks of rock crashing into the buildings. Ulfric was within the watchtower, rubbing his sore jaw as he pulled the door shut.
"Jarl Ulfic, could the legends be true?"
"Legends don't burn down villages."
Higher beings don't enter such primitive worlds.
Ralof turned to his new companion. "We have to get out of here. Up this way, let's go!"
The three ran up the stairway, though it was difficult for Didact to keep his balance with his clawed feet.
He saw a now-freed Stormcloak trying to move stones away from the crumbled roof entrance. "I just need to move these-"
He did not progress. The obsidian-looking beast had burst its' head through the wall, and Didact could make out three distinct words that rumbled through its' throat:
"YOL... TOOR... SHUL!"
The result was as The Promethean expected; the man was now a charred corpse, writhing in numbing pain.
Ralof almost shoved everyone back down the steps. "Dammit! Get back!"
Seeing no other prey to hunt, it dropped and swooped back to harass what remained of Tullius' guard.
Ulfric gazed through the hole, tracking it. Ralof scanned below and pointed to a burning building.
"See that Inn right over there? It's kind of a leap, but you look like you can make it! You'll have to jump down and make your way... I'll meet up with you once I help the others! GO!"
"A means of escape? good enough for me."
Without protest, Didact leapt through the air without trouble, despite not having free arms to right himself. With a wood-splintering thud, he managed to clumsily thud onto the upper floor. He got down on the first floor, where he could see Hadvar and an old man taking cover.
The Imperial called to a boy that was cowering in front of the Dragon, whose attention was directed towards an unlucky archer.
"Torolf! Get behind the house!" Hadvar nearly dragged him over, where he saw The Didact approaching. "Still alive, prisoner? Stay behind me if you want to stay that way!"
Didact clambered forward, face to face with the Imperial.
"I will warn you only once. I am no "prisoner". You will call me by my title, Didact. Is that clear?" Hadvar's eyes widened a bit, and he quickly added his name to his mental list of who to respect. and fear.
"Of course, Didact... anyway, we need to head through here! C'mon!"
The elderly blacksmith tending to the traumatized child murmured just out of earshot, "Gods guide you, Hadvar."
They were running along a wall that lead past a burning tavern, when the ancient beast clutched onto a wall of stone, attention completely drawn to a terrified archer who was loosing all of his arrows.
"Quick, hug the wall-"
"ZU'U UNSLAAD, ZU'U NIS OBLAAN!"(I am immortal, I CANNOT die!)
The arrows flew straight and true, but shattered and deflected off of the impervious scales. Another orange-red waterfall of broiling flames engulfed the poor bastard, and also left an opening for Hadvar to yell, "There's our chance! Let's move!"
The Dragon dusted off, flinging small pebbles and throwing clouds of dirt in every direction. The unlikely pair noted seeing fireballs whirl towards their target, from ground-to-sky.
"I'd appreciate it if my binds were cut."
"No time!"
"Hmph. With haste, then." I could at least use one of your crude weapons then.
The courtyard was utter mayhem. There were burned and mangled bodies strewn about, stragglers that were still struggling to understand what was happening, and the military Governor with his guard. As the two came near another gate that led to the prison chambers, Tullius called from his position, "Hadvar! Move it soldier, into the Keep!We're leaving!"
Hadvar half-saluted, "Yes, General! Didact, with me!"
"RUN YOU IDIOT!"
The Promethean realized he was standing about, admiring the destruction, seemingly calm despite all of the death around him. He had had one-hundred years of combat experience. All he needed was a moment to think, but that moment was not now. Still, he could have used such a weapon during the great war.
He had to get out of this mess, so he made his wat through the crowd to the building that held two different entrances. Hadvar caught up, an enraged expression flaring at the sight of Ralof approaching them both.
"Dammit Ralof, not this time! Out of the way!"
He drew his sword to match Ralof's axe.
"Fine, but he comes with me!"
"Argh, Didact! Make your choice, but we don't have forever!"
Without hesitation, The Didact walked towards the entrance of the Keep. where Ralof stood. He had, after all, helped him and seemed friendly despite the fact that he hadn't realized he was addressing one of the most powerful beings in the galaxy.
Ralof nodded his thanks,"Alright, lets go." He looked back towards the shy before he opened the wooden door.
The Didact entered behind him, but not before hearing the Dragon scream, "DAR LEIN LOS DII!"(This world is mine!)
Author's Note: Thank you all for reading this, and I really appreciate the reviews! If you're wondering why the Didact has been weakened, things may be explained in the next entry! Also, basically the Didact's form was scaled down a bit by the Composer's portal. Just for this story. This is NON-CANON.