02

The Deadlands are preferable to this place, at least I'd know what to expect.

Dust and mist were swirling around her, making it difficult for her to see even past her boots. She heard a few shouts of terror, but she didn't answer back. Whomever this plane belonged to, it wasn't Sheogorath. Admittedly, it was a strange place—she couldn't tell up from down, or if there was any path, and columns of stone and concrete were floating—but it was a desolate zone; there was nothing in it that could be associated with the Mad God.

Talia could see a bright light in the distance, and hoped it was her way out. She had not yet encountered any Daedra, but she had a strong feeling she would rather not meet them. As she shuffled towards it, she noticed a prone figure laying face down on the ground. Unsure if it was a hostile person or a potential ally, she drew her dagger before throwing a Restoration spell at it.

A groan was heard from the figure and as it struggled to get up, Talia noticed its left hand glow green. Out of instinct, she put up a ward in front of her.

"Who are you?" she asked, and the person peered at her with groggy eyes before shaking her head.

The figure turned out to be a young Bosmer, although she looked different from her elf cousins. The girl was short, painfully thin and fair skinned, her big, green eyes wide and soulful as she looked at her. Her red hair escaped her bun and was strewn across her face, and her forehead was marked with a tattoo of a leafless tree. The Bosmer was now staring at her in shock and—was that fear?

"Calm down," she raised her hands trying to placate the girl.

But the Bosmer still stared at her wide-eyed, and she stumbled away from her, shouting at her in a strange language.

Talia stared at her. A Bosmer who didn't know Basic? Where did she grow up and why didn't anyone teach her? Perhaps now was the time to try out the Translation spell she'd been working on. Talia gathered it in her hand and released it, letting it wash over her and the Bosmer.

"Now, let's start that again. Who are you?" Talia said. The girl squeaked and looked at her warily. "I cast a Translation spell, if you're wondering why I can suddenly speak your language."

"My name is Talia, First to Keeper Istimaethoriel of the Lavellan Clan," the girl squeaked in a mix of Dunmeri and Basic. Ah well, the spell still needed some adjustment, but she was glad it seemed to work.

And, if their having the same first name was a coincidence, she'd marry Dagon.

"I am Talia Indoril," she replied. "Forgive me, but what is a Keeper? And I have never heard of a Lavellan Clan? Are you from Valenwood or Summerset Isles?"

The Bosmer looked at her curiously. "We have the same name?"

Of course that was what she would focus on. "Yes," she answered impatiently. "But I would like to know where we are and how you got here."

"I would like to know what you are first," she raised her chin in an act of bravery, but Talia could only look at her in surprise.

"What I am? I'm a Dunmer, for Sithis' sake. As in, the natives of Morrowind."

Lavellan still continued to look at her with a mix of wariness and confusion. "What's a Dunmer? What's Morrowind? You're awfully strange, how do I know you're not a Desire Demon?"

She had no idea what that was, but it was easy enough to deduce what it did from its name.

"A Desire Demon? Why? Do I look like everything you've ever wanted in your life?" Talia snarked.

"I—I suppose not. You could be a rage demon…but I've seen them, and they don't really look anything like you."

Talia rubbed her eyes. "Perhaps this discussion can wait until we've figured out where we are and how we leave this wretched place."

"Oh, the where is simple enough: we're in the Fade," Lavellan replied.

"The what?" It was Talia's turn to look confused. She'd never heard of any of the Daedric Princes call their realm 'The Fade'. Was it a new term for Namira's realm? The desolate aura would start to make sense.

"The Fade, The Beyond," Lavellan emphasized, as if it would jog Talia's memory.

Talia simply shook her head, having already resigned herself to the fact that she would never understand what was happening. Perhaps it was Sheogorath's doing.

"Let's figure out how to get ourselves out of this place, and maybe we could educate each other after, is that all right?" Talia asked, and without waiting for an answer, she pushed forward, walking towards the light.

The two came across a staircase that led to the glowing bright light. In front of the portal, a figure of a woman, reached out to them.

"I think I know who that is," Lavellan said to her as they started up the steps. When they reached the middle, screeching sounds could be heard from behind them, and Talia paused to look at what it was. As the mist cleared, she felt ice pool at the pit of her stomach.

"Spiders! Run!" Lavellan shouted as she rushed up the stairs.

Talia turned and followed a second later. Spiders? Did this…Fade conform to a person's memory? Because she was sure as Oblivion it wasn't spiders she was looking at.

Corpses were following them, and she hurried up the stairs before she could identify any more of them.

As they neared, Talia could see an old woman wearing robes of some sort, hurrying them out to the portal. "Quickly!"

Despite Lavellan's headstart, Talia reached the top first, and she blasted away at the dead that followed them, sending firebolt after firebolt at the creatures.

At the last step, Lavellan tripped—one of the corpses wearing Martin's face grabbed her ankle and she stumbled down. Talia sent an ice spike to his head and Lavellan kicked him away, extending her hand as Talia reached for hers. The old woman reached out for Lavellan's other hand to pull her up.

When their palms connected, a burst of pain shot up Talia's arm, and she fell down on her knees at the intensity. Lavellan tried to stand up, but another corpse knocked her down to the ground. As her fingers slipped from Talia's grasp, the pain intensified, and the strange green power sizzled in between their hands. The old woman fell forward, unable to support Lavellan's weight.

"Go!" Lavellan shouted at her, as she fought off the corpses pinning her. The old woman staggered up, but realizing she would not make it, she turned to Talia and said, "Please save them," before pushing her backwards, towards the portal.

Forgive me. Talia thought as she gritted her teeth and backed up towards the portal. Their hands still glowed with the same green power, and the last Talia Indoril saw of Talia Lavellan was a small smile and a Firestorm pouring down, before she crossed the threshold.

The portal started to close, and Talia felt as if she were being electrocuted. She fell down on the ground, and when it was finally shut, the pain decreased to a dull throbbing. Three soldiers approached her with their swords pointed at her, but she had no strength left in her to fight. The world grew black, and she couldn't help but welcome numbness.

It was like waking from an extremely long nap—one that made you feel more exhausted than rested. Talia became aware of voices speaking, but she couldn't understand what they were saying. The cold seeping through her robes was what she noticed next. She was kneeling on stone, and her legs had lost all semblance of feeling either due to the cold, or her lack of use. A sharp pain in her hand made her gasp and fall forward. One of the guards caught her and pushed her back to her kneeling position.

Her hands were bound in shackles in front of her, which allowed her to stare at her glowing green hand in morbid fascination. It was a sickeningly disgusting mark, with lines that crept up her palm and onto her fingers like vines on a wall. Talia looked up from her scrutiny as the door opened, admitting two women.

The two of them looked Imperial, with one of them red-haired, fair skinned and lovely, while the other had cropped black hair, olive skin and an angry glare. The Angry One—as Talia dubbed her—started circling her and spoke in the language similar to Lavellan's, while Red simply looked at her with a passive expression.

Did nobody speak Basic in this place? Talia thought as she subtly cast the Translation spell on all three of them.

"—one who attended is dead, except for you." Talia caught the end of the Angry One's speech. She had no idea what was happening, so she simply stared at her, keeping quiet.

If it were possible, it made the Angry One even more furious. She grabbed Talia's left hand, "Explain this." she ordered.

Once again, Talia remained impassive.

"Answer me!" she raised Talia by her collar, and although it made it difficult for her to breath, she remained silent. The Angry One's glare would have had a lesser man cowering, but she'd faced down Mehrunes Dagon for Sithis' sake!

Red stepped in and touched The Angry One's hands. "We need her, Cassandra," she said quietly.

The woman known as Cassandra let go of her, and she fell back down to the ground on her knees. Red stepped in front of her and simply stared at her for a long time. "I want to speak to her, alone, Cassandra."

"…Very well, Leliana." and the woman gestured for all of the guards to leave the two alone. When the doors shut, Leliana turned back to her.

"Forgive Cassandra, she may be a little brusque. We are all on edge after what happened." she said as she stared down at Talia. "We have no idea where you have come from or why you were at the Conclave. Perhaps you can clarify a few things for us, no?"

Talia stared at her blankly. After what happened?

"What were you doing at the Conclave?"

Talia remained stubbornly quiet, and Leliana's face betrayed no emotions.

"Do you know where you are?" she asked instead. Still, Talia kept her mouth shut. She had no idea who these people were, or why she was shackled. Did they expect her to answer their questions willingly?

"You are a Dark Elf, am I correct?"

Talia's surprise made her answer. "I am."

She paced the floor. "Are you related to the Hero of Ferelden?"

"The Hero of what?"

"Ferelden, the one who ended the Blight," At her blank look, Leliana shook her head. "I suppose not. But you are from Skyrim?"

Skyrim? What did that forsaken place have to do with anything? "I've been there, but I am a resident of Cyrodiil," Talia said.

Leliana sighed. "These places mean nothing to me, but I'm afraid you're a very long way from home. Do you remember anything? Anything at all about what happened?"

"I entered an Oblivion portal, and I ended up in the Fade," she answered carefully. She decided it was best not to mention Lavellan, or the old woman, she might get accused of their deaths. But, maybe she give then a vague reference. "I remember running, corpses were following me, and there was a woman, she reached out to me when I was escaping that Plane."

"A woman?" Leliana furrowed her brow. "Perhaps we can speak about this at length once we've done with the immediate threat."

"What threat?" she asked.

"If there is one thing you must know about this world, it's that mages are feared and hated."

How wonderful. Talia thought bitterly. Indeed, only with her luck would she be transported to another plane where her expertise would be considered evil.

"They are locked away by Templars in a place called the Circle. Recently, these mages rebelled, and the two sides have been at war ever since. The head of our religion, the Divine, called for a cease fire. But at the Conclave, there was an explosion, and everybody died…except you."

"That's because I wasn't at this…Conclave."

Leliana gave her a look before continuing. "After the explosion, the sky ripped open, and the demons rained down upon all of us."

"I'm sorry, did you say that there are demons pouring out of the sky?" Talia reiterated.

"Yes, and we believe this," she held up Talia's pulsing hand. "May be the key to closing it."

Talia stared at Leliana before she laughed in disbelief. She'd thought she was done with closing Oblivion portals but of course she wasn't. Fate wasn't that kind. Perhaps Sheogorath was involved, if her hysterical laughter was any indication.

"This isn't fucking happening," she whispered as she stared at her hand.

"I'm sorry," Leliana said. "But I'm afraid we don't have time. Will you help us close this Breach?"

Talia closed her eyes. She wanted to decline. She wanted to go back—back through the portal and to her strange life as Grey Fox, Listener, Arch-Mage and Guild Master. She wanted to go on a killing spree, and incinerate and eviscerate everyone in her way.

The old woman's last plea flashed before her, and she knew—she knew she wouldn't be able to sit idly by as the world burned.

"Very well," she said begrudgingly.

"So you'll help us?" there was a sliver of hope in Leliana's words, and Talia latched onto it.

"If you promise to explain everything afterward," she said.

Leliana smiled, and although it didn't reach her eyes, it was a start. "Of course," she pulled Talia up. Leliana gave the dunmer a calculating look before sweeping out of the room, presumably to speak with Cassandra.

Talia leaned back on one of the pillars of the prison. It never occurred to her that she was possibly in a different plane of existence altogether. There had been studies about it of course, but everything remained inconclusive. She was stuck between a rock and a hard place, but she hoped Leliana could help her find a way back to Tamriel. She also needed to evaluate her situation and figure out how she would play this out; she didn't become both the Listener and Grey Fox for no reason after all.

Leliana's words left Talia curious, however. Someone from Tamriel, from Skyrim, had also been transported to this world. A Dark Elf as well, judging from the way she handled the situation. How did that Dunmer get here, and who was he?

But the better questions was, how did she always end up in these kinds of situations?

A/N: Thank you so much for all the kind reviews! I hope you enjoy this story as much as I like writing it. Lemme know what you guys think. :-) Questions about Talia's magic, how Lavellan's mark was transferred to her and such will be answered in future chapters.