Chapter 4: Returning to One's Roots
Author's Note: Alright, finally I get around to updating this story! So, after doing my research, listening to feedback from reviewers in my PM inbox, watching the Bright Lord DLC for Shadow of Mordor, and even starting a Sauron character in Skyrim like I had planned to do from the beginning, I believe I can now bring you guys this chapter. HOPEFULLY I'll do the character justice, since looking back I've basically forgotten Sauron's one key feature: his skill at manipulating. Sure there was a bit with the Thrall/Spy in the Whiterun nobility/court but that was pretty much just thrown in there. So while Sauron will still have some mannerisms I gave him before (Madara-like tendencies about battle and whatnot) he will be brought back to his source as a manipulator while still being awesome. Kinda like Aizen… Nope! Getting off track! If I go down that road I'll end up with another story I start and need to work on! So without further ado, let's get moving!
Disclaimer: I do not own The Elder Scrolls series, nor do I own Lord of the Rings. They belong to Bethesda and J.R.R. Tolkien respectively. Please support the official release.
Upon rising from his slumber, Sauron cracked his neck and glanced over at his still-sleeping housecarl.
Looking at her, he pondered whether or not he should send her back to Whiterun so he could get on with his plans. However, there was a rather large problem with this idea. If he sent her back, he had no guarantee that she would keep quiet about some of his… mannerisms. And he didn't particularly want to startle the herd. At least, not yet.
Sauron looked down at his hand, and slowly focused all of his willpower as hard as he could, trying to call forth any scrap of power from his time as a formless shade. His skin whitened as his fingers clenched and the blood slowed beneath the skin. Slowly, black wisps of smoke-like energy began flowing from his closed fist.
The former Dark Lord of Mordor opened his fingers and held his hand over his housecarl's face. Sauron closed his eyes, then opened them once more with fiery irises and slit pupils. The smoke-like energy left his hand and began circling in a spiral above Lydia's head. Lydia turned her head slightly, unaware of the intentions of her Thane. She was also unaware of the fact that she was inhaling a good portion of the energy through her nose while she slept.
His task complete, Sauron let the dark energy surrounding his hand disperse into the air as his eyes reverted back to their normal crimson hue. He glanced back at Lydia, almost rolling his eyes at the peaceful look on her face. Sauron turned from his housecarl and pulled out one of the books he had in his satchel and began reading once more. As he read, his mind turned to other things.
This land was strong, though divided by civil war, and would not be easily conquered. He couldn't just charge in with mace in hand and spell in the other like he had been doing so far for most of his endeavors since he arrived. No, this would take far more subtlety, cunning, and a fair amount of manipulation. Sauron smirked for a briefest moment. It was time to get back to basics. He slipped the book back into his bag and pulled out another book in its place.
"Biography of the Wolf Queen," Sauron mused, looking at the title.
Sauron flipped it open and began reading, and as he did, he pondered more about his strategy.
Assuming a different form could be easy. If he had regained a little of his power to be able to accomplish what he had just done, then it shouldn't be too much effort to take on a fair form. Perhaps it was time to bring back one of his old personas he hadn't used since such a long time ago?
Regardless, becoming somebody else for a short time would only be part of it. Sauron knew that he was going to eventually learn just about all he could from this "College" that he had heard about many times. But after that, he needed a new goal if he didn't yet have the power to forge his Ring once more. Glancing back down at his book, Sauron shut it before standing up.
"Given how the Ring originally was an extension of my soul," Sauron thought to himself, "I'll need something else before I can make it anew." He put a hand on his chin and gazed out over the landscape.
"I was immortal back then, so therefore it's safe to assume that I will need to be immortal again before I can make the Ring as it once was without causing irreparable harm to myself. So in that case…" Sauron gave a small, malicious smile. "I will just have to find a way to regain my immortality."
And with that thought, Sauron turned his mind back towards one of the forms he had once used in centuries past. Once, he had used a specific form to escape with his life intact, but now it might be his saving grace once more.
Sauron smirked again. It seemed that now, despite the differences in how he became it the first time, he would once again walk the world as a vampire.
As the sun began to rise up in the sky, Lydia finally roused herself from her slumber. Glancing at the sky, she swore under her breath for being so careless. She was supposed to have risen at some point in the night to let her Thane rest while she took watch. Lydia cursed her ineptitude and glanced over to where her Thane was currently sitting, patiently stirring something in a cooking pot with some form of magic while reading an ancient tome as always.
"I apologize for my unawareness my Thane," she said with her head bowed. "I will gladly accept any punishment you see fit for my inactions."
Her Thane smiled at her, closing the book and stopping the stirring spoon in the pot with a click of his long fingers. He stood up, brushing dust off of his white robes before looking at her.
"There's no need to worry Lydia," he replied. "We did have a rather long day of walking and fighting yesterday, and you needed your rest. I'm used to getting little sleep due to research, so I just worked through a few books last night. There's no harm done."
Lydia sighed in relief, though she didn't know why she was so worried. Her Thane seemed to be a relatively kind-hearted man, only becoming truly angry whenever he witnessed true injustice in the world. And while he didn't seem physically imposing, she had seen his skill in battle, and he had impressed her with his magical skill.
Yes, she had received a good choice in Thane after all. And for the rest of her time serving him, she would protect Annatar with her life, even if he had no intention of letting her do so.
Annatar smiled and beckoned her over as he spooned what appeared to be vegetable stew into a wooden bowl and handed it to her. Lydia accepted the stew with a nod of thanks and began drinking from it. Annatar pulled his map out of his bag and studied it carefully.
"We seem to not be far from this city called Windhelm I believe," he remarked. "Once we get there we might be able to take a carriage to Winterhold, now that we have a bit of gold from those bandits we fought."
Lydia nodded. It was a sound plan, and Annatar hadn't been wrong in his judgements so far. As a scholar and a mage, he knew how to stay calm and collected through the thick and thin. It almost seemed as if he was always a few steps ahead, whether it be using an Illusion-class spell to turn enemies against one another or his careful manipulation of fire and lightning. She had also seen him summon spectral wolves using Conjuration to fight by his side, and occasionally she had seen him make them explode in flames. But in whatever he did Annatar always planned ahead, and had several backups in case things went decidedly pear-shaped, no matter if it was a plan to carefully end them all or simply to get away safely.
Lydia could see why he still desired to go to Winterhold. There were very few places in Skyrim that someone could safely study magic without fear of persecution (one mage in Morthal was accused many times of being a necromancer just for his interest in the Conjuration school) and it did have much knowledge to be learned. Sure, Lydia wasn't a magic-use herself, but she could definitely appreciate the art.
After packing up their campsite, Lydia and Annatar set out towards Winterhold. Yet, as they walked, Lydia couldn't help but get the feeling that something was watching them. Annatar seemed to not have noticed the possible threat in the area, but Lydia knew better. His fingers had begun to smoke lightly, almost as if ready to ignite into flames at any second.
Moments later, Lydia's instincts proved themselves correct as they had countless times before. A Dark Elf clad in black and red leather armor lunged from off the side of the road, twin Ebony daggers in his gloved hands.
"Sithis comes for you!" he bellowed as he darted past Lydia and sunk both daggers into Annatar's neck.
Annatar let out an unearthly scream of pain and shock as fountains of blood began to spew from the wounds in his neck, drenching the leather-clad assassin with a sea of red. The elf smirked darkly, his expression looking all the more twisted with the blood coating it.
Lydia let out a scream of rage as she unsheathed her sword with the intent to horribly mutilate this assassin who had dared to kill one of the kindest men she had ever come to serve under.
Right as she was about to sink her blade into Annatar's killer, the corpse impaled on the assassin's blades melted into a mass of buzzing insects. Lydia watched, shocked as they flew apart from the swarm to converge at a single point behind the dumbstruck assassin. Buzzing angrily, the insects bombarded each other to form together into a vaguely humanoid shape that quickly became Annatar. The assassin turned in horror, just in time to get struck full on by a bolt of lightning that sent him flying.
The Dunmer skidded across the ground before flipping back to his feet, daggers at the ready in a battle stance. He glared at the mage standing across from him, angry but still cautious.
"What the hell was that?" he growled.
Annatar simply gave a small smile. "A little illusion of my making to alter what you saw, touched, heard, smelled, sensed. When you thought you had killed me, in actuality I was standing a couple feet away." He turned to Lydia. "Sorry for putting you under the illusion as well Lydia, but I needed your reaction to be realistic."
Lydia merely nodded in affirmation of her Thane's logic. Annatar turned back to the Dunmer and held a hand out to his side. Sparks began forming over his closed fist. Annatar closed his eyes for a moment then opened them again, his kind silver eyes flashing fiery orange for a second.
"I'm sorry for what is about to happen my friend, but I'm afraid you're going to have to die now. Regardless if I was your intended target or not, I will not let an assassin such as you be hired out to kill more innocent people. So prepare yourself to meet that deity of yours in about… two minutes."
The Dunmer's eyes widened before he rolled to the side to avoid the bolt of lightning that struck where his face had been seconds earlier. Annatar quickly formed a small ball of dark purple energy in his left hand while fire ignited in his right. With his left hand he summoned a spectral wolf, then he imbued it with fire using his right hand. With small nod, the wolf darted forward and bit into the assassin's leg. The Dunmer roared in pain and raised a dagger to stab it, only for Annatar to snap his fingers and the wolf to begin glowing. Then it exploded.
The assassin managed to get free of the explosion before permanent damage could be done, but his leg was still beaten and bleeding. Wincing, he readied himself into a battle stance once more and lunged forward as fast as he could on his wounded leg.
Annatar dodged the stab from the elf and simply kept leaning from side to side to avoid the blows. One strike ended up in a position to actually connect, only for Annatar to form a small green prism of magic energy and cast the Oakflesh spell. The magic armor formed right as the blade was about to enter Annatar's chest, deflecting it at the last possible moment.
The elf realized his mistake right as Annatar formed what appeared to be a hand-sized sun in his hand. Annatar smirked.
"You lose my friend. Say hello to Sithis in the void," he whispered.
With that, Annatar slammed the orb into the Dunmer's chest, releasing the orb and the assassin at the same time and darting back. As soon as he was clear, Annatar snapped his fingers. The orb exploded in a fiery inferno, only to expand into a larger explosion when Annatar fired another lightning bolt into the center of it.
Lydia watched stunned at Annatar's display of magical power, even if he was only using apprentice level spells with the exception of that one orb of fire. Annatar watched the inferno for a few moments before turning and trudging back to Lydia, dusting off his white robes as he went.
"Shall we continue then?" he remarked.
Lydia nodded. "You lead, I'll follow."
Annatar gave a kind smile. He turned around and kept walking down the road in the direction of Windhelm. Lydia sheathed her sword, and began following him as she had done before.
Mirabelle Ervine was a rational woman, a Breton mage who relied on cool logic and her skills of observation in order to help her understand things that seemed odd or out of place to her. Yet for the life of her, it seemed she was the only one with suspicions about their newest student at the College.
He was a nice young man, of this there seemed to be no doubt. He was kind, respectful, and cautious in his work (unlike the other apprentices who seemed to learn magic only for combat purposes) and he got along very well with just about everybody. He had even become a sort of "partner" to Tolfdir in various forms of research. But there was something about Annatar that just made Mirabelle uneasy, and she didn't like the feeling.
For starters, he never actually passed the test that Faralda normally gave prospective students when they came to the gate. Somehow he managed to persuade her that it was obvious that he would pass the test, and therefore he was given the "all-clear" by Faralda to enter the College as a student.
Then there was his attitude. He was kind and helpful, yes. But if there was ever such a thing as TOO kind and helpful, Annatar seemed to fit the bill. Now, while the occasional kindness or offer of help wouldn't worry Mirabelle too much, but Annatar acted this way all the time. Very rarely did anyone in Skyrim ever do something purely out of the kindness of their heart, and this was suspicious to her. Of course, everybody else seemed to find this personality of his refreshing instead of the usual brutish personality of most of Skyrim's populace.
But whatever the reason, Mirabelle just seemed to be on her guard around Annatar. It was difficult, with his mild-mannered personality seeming to make you just want to open up and be nice to him. After all, who could be bad-tempered to the kindest man on campus besides old Tolfdir? Hell even Ancano, the usually arrogant and foul-mouthed Thalmor representative, cooled down a bit with his insults whenever Annatar was near. Mirabelle had never seen Ancano make any snide remarks about Annatar whenever he wandered around the College, which was saying something since he practically insulted everybody.
There was also the matter of the woman in armor who always followed Annatar around, calling him "her Thane" when speaking to him. Judging from the words she spoke, it was clear that Annatar had helped out a Jarl with some task of sorts if he was named Thane of a hold. The woman must have been his Housecarl. But she very rarely seemed to question him or the few orders he gave her, unlike some Housecarls. So either she was very loyal from serving under him for quite some time, or something was up. Nobody has that much blind loyalty to someone without outside interference.
But whatever the reason it was, something just seemed off about Annatar to Mirabelle. And for that, she knew she should probably stay on guard.
Tolfdir was always a cautious man. He strived for safety within the College, yet encouraged the students to do whatever they had to in order to learn.
He was rather surprised when a student actually seemed to agree with his sentiment of caution. Annatar was a surprise, but a welcome one. Sure, he didn't have as much of a desire to learn Alteration magic, but he still showed passion for his chosen schools of magic.
Annatar had come to learn more about the Conjuration and Enchanting schools, both two tightly intertwined schools of magic with one supplementing the other (through the use of the Soul Trap spell) He had come to the College already knowing some of the basics for Conjuration, such as summoning Familiars and a Flame Atronach (though the Atronach in question seemed to be much more sadistic than normal members of its kind, which Tolfdir did find odd considering the personality of the summoner of said Atronach) and even going a step further and enhancing the Familiar with Destruction magic.
His secondary schools of magic were ones he also had some prior knowledge in. Destruction and Illusion. He had an Apprentice level grasp of the fire and lightning varieties of destruction spells, yet his ice spells were barely Novice level. Annatar had explained this as probably being a side effect of his homeland, where the elements of fire and lightning were common in mages while ice was very rare. With this in mind, it was little surprise that his ice spells weren't up to the same level as his fire and lightning ones were.
His illusions on the other hand were very different from the spells in the Illusion class in Skyrim however. Unlike the spells that simply manipulated emotions of the target to incite feelings of rage/fear/courage/calm Annatar's spells used illusions to manipulate the senses of his targets, often changing reality as they saw it. Several times during a practice battle with him, Tolfdir had often had to throw up an emergency Stoneflesh whenever a spell collided with Annatar and the student dissolved into a swarm of insects and reappeared behind him with a Firebolt in hand. Of course, Annatar didn't just limit his illusions to just insects though. Tolfdir had seen him use snakes, bats, lizards, even a flock of crows at one point. It seemed that Annatar's illusions were limited only by his imagination. It was unlike anything Tolfdir had ever seen, and it intrigued him to no end.
While he didn't seem to focus on them as much as the other schools of magic, Annatar had shown that he was proficient in the two remaining magic types. He was good at throwing up wards with little to no warning or power-up time, and he was average with healing spells. His armor spells were cast much faster than most, though he didn't seem to rise above Stoneflesh in power level. Annatar frequently cast Candlelight and Magelight spells whenever he worked, due to some dislike of torches.
But despite his choices in magic, Annatar was an interesting person to be around. Only time would tell whether this interest would fade or not. But at least he was helpful.
Urag was an Orc who normally didn't get along with anybody. Students he despised most of all. But Annatar had thankfully proven to be much more careful and respectful around the Arcaneum than the rest.
He was constantly in there looking through the scrolls and books just researching various aspects of his chosen schools of magic. The fact that Annatar didn't just try and practice everything with little to no forethought or research was a plus.
He also showed a careful respect for all forms of written work and whenever he wished to research for some sort of experiment, he always went to the Arcaneum first. Urag could respect that. Annatar was also seen sitting with a book or scroll in some area of the Arcaneum that did not have any torches or open flames nearby. His logic was obvious in this matter: he himself had stated to Urag that "ancient tomes around fire is asking for trouble, or an out of control inferno within a library such as this." If he ever needed light, he simply threw up a Candlelight or a Magelight and would recast it every once in a while whenever it went out.
Annatar had even come forth and even donated some of the manuscripts he had found or bought on his travels to get to Winterhold to the Arcaneum. Some were common, but it was the thought that counted to Urag. Annatar also came to Urag to ask about any small jobs he could do, be it cataloguing books, tidying up, or even going out to locate rare tomes.
Annatar was different. That much was obvious. But as long as he didn't damage any of his books, Urag could care less what Annatar was like whenever he left the Arcaneum.
Savos Aren was actually relieved that the new student didn't have a penchant for wanton destruction when experimenting.
Sure the young man was like Tolfdir, except willing to take risks once in a while, but he was overall a likeable person. Annatar just seemed eager to please, and was in general very kind everyone he came across on campus. Savos was even surprised when the snarky Thalmor Representative changed tune around Annatar to try and be less sarcastic and insulting. The Arch-Mage didn't even know that Altmer could actually be polite without snide comments or rude remarks.
Sure, Savos didn't know Annatar personally. But on the plus side he knew he wouldn't have to worry about repairing for damages in the new student's dorm room whenever an experiment went horribly wrong. (Be it from Annatar's cautious nature or simply the fact that Annatar would try to pay his own expenses)
It was one of those days, one of those lazy days when all one wants to do is just lay around and do absolutely nothing to further your life or education. Sauron wasn't following through with that.
Sauron (unlike the rest of the students who were simply lounging around in their dorm rooms doing nothing) was hunched over an Enchanting table with a pile of filled soul gems, a textbook with lists of enchantments, and several gold rings he forged beside him. Flipping through the pages, he then tested out the enchantment in question (one to fortify the strength of Illusion spells) by binding it to one of the many rings beside him. Upon putting the ring on his finger, Sauron quickly fired off a Fury spell at the wall. Noting what appeared to be a slight increase in size and the glow, Sauron picked up his quill and notebook and recorded his findings. He then set down the book and went back to his work.
He had to admit, the magic of this world, once he learned a bit more about it, wasn't as different from that of Middle Earth as he had originally thought. Enchanting was something that was drastically different however, given that in Middle Earth only the most powerful of enchanters would use souls to power enchantments. Sauron would know. He was one of them. And yet while he studied, he still found himself fascinated with the ways he could use magic. Summoning creatures like Ghashgûl was a plus, though he was surprised at how easy it was for any competent mage. Apparently, based on his books, Flame Atronachs were among the weaker varieties of summoned creatures. (With the spectral wolf Familiar being the weakest unless imbued with fire or any other Destruction magic) This did get him interested in summoning the creatures known as "Storm Atronachs" at some point. (He was also interested in Frost Atronachs, but given his lack of power with ice spells, he was a bit skeptical on whether he could use it or not)
Unfortunately for him it turned out that like in Middle Earth, necromancy was considered to be a magic path that was "ill-advised" to study on College campus and even worse to use out in public. The Nords took honoring of the dead to a high level, and seeing a thrall made of someone's reanimated corpse got them to be pretty violent. Of course, this didn't stop Sauron from discreetly studying it later at night.
One thing that truly intrigued him was something he learned of called "Daedric Armor" in one of his books about smithing. Based on the rough sketches in the books, Sauron felt a bit of a kinship with the looks of the armor, and it just seemed to call to him. Upon researching more, Sauron learned that it would either take a Master-level of the smithing craft to make it at a regular forge, or it would take something called an "Atronach Forge" to create it magically. Either way, Sauron resolved to get lots of ebony ingots, as well as plenty of Daedra hearts.
The other problem would be how to get the Daedra hearts. Most Daedra that were summoned to this plane of existence would disintegrate when killed or their summon time runs out. This would make it much more difficult to get that specific armor type.
Not that it mattered. Sauron was patient. Having regained his wits and once again utilizing his cunning, Sauron's impatience was all but gone. Sauron had been patient for centuries while just a formless shadow or a fiery eye atop Barad Dur. He could afford to be patient for much longer than he had been.
Looking back down at the Enchanting table, Sauron quickly fashioned another enchanted ring (this time with an enchantment to fortify one's magical energy) and put it on. He closed his eyes and focused on his reserves of magicka. Sauron noted the added difference (small though it was) and sighed. He marked it down in the notebook before setting the ring down in the "failure" pile.
It annoyed him slightly that some of his enchantments came out strong while others were so weak they were almost useless. At first he blamed his rusty skills in the art. But as it became a common thing, his irritation grew a bit larger. Sauron glared at the offending ring he had just made before reaching for another unenchanted one, this time with a larger soul gem (called a "greater" soul gem by the merchant) and proceeded to enchant it with the same effect.
Sauron put on the newer ring and immediately noted a significantly larger increase in his magicka reserves. He took the ring off and noted down the results. Sauron pondered for a moment before checking his enchanting book to clarify his "discovery" Sure enough, the book clearly stated that the size of the soul gems and the size of the souls within them defined the magnitude of the enchantment's power.
Sauron gritted his teeth for a moment before jotting down that key piece of information into his notebook for future reference.
Setting aside the notebook once more, Sauron packed away the "failed" experiments into a sack while the "successful" ones he slipped into his pockets. The sack would be sold at one of the general stores in Winterhold, if only to get some extra gold for materials and soul gems.
Sauron picked his notebook back up and snapped it shut before stowing it somewhere in his robes. As he walked out of the enchanting room, his mind turned back to the subject of necromancy. So far, he had succeeded in extending the time in which he could have a corpse reanimated, though they still dissolved into ash afterwards. The problem with his experiments on this matter was the discretion needed. Not only was necromancy frowned upon, but having the mild-mannered and kind Annatar being discovered as a closet necromancer would spell disaster for Sauron's plans. Sauron sighed under his breath. That, and the fact that he was quickly running out of corpses to experiment with.
It appeared that he would have to go hunting at some point. After all, animal corpses can only get one so far in their research.
End Chapter
Author's Note: My God that took forever to write! To any faithful readers I still have, I finally got this one updated! And I'm technically within my deadline for completion! I think… I do apologize if this chapter seems a bit shorter than normal. I'll get back into the flow of things soon enough. (I'm glad I figured out how to do those horizontal line breaks though)
Regardless, thanks for all of you for bearing with my sporadic updating schedule. Things have been hectic for me, including a member of my family having passed away some time back. But I'm back and I'm hopeful that I can keep a somewhat steady updating schedule. At least, for the couple days I'm on vacation.
I'd also like to give a big shout out to someone on this site by the name of TheMightyMorgoth for all of his support and for helping me through this with some ideas and encouragement! You're awesome dude, and I really appreciate your help!
I hope I've done Sauron justice with this chapter, and we'll just have to see where this plotline goes in the next chapter? After I update my other two stories. I want to have some form of consistency after all!
So thanks for reading, leave a rate, review, follow, whatever you feel like, and I'll be back at some point for the next chapter of this story or another.
See ya on the flip side!
-Phantom