Circa 4E 200

Azura's Star Interior

A realm beyond the Aurbis. Beyond mortal limits of wheres and whens. Here, Malyn Varen, conqueror of the Daedra, conqueror of death itself, would live forevermore.

A punishment? A prison? This was glory of mortals over the wicked, of purity over the plague, of victory over the abyss. He had defeated Azura, the Daedric Prince, the secret villain behind the vision. He, alone, after the naysayers and deceivers of the College had cast him out, as Azura sent her foul influence, clawing and prying, never ceasing, never ceasing, until the final strokes had set, at the moment when Malyn Varen stepped out of the darkness, into the brilliance of eternity.

This was no punishment. Those wretched closed minds in the College had called him mad, but he cared not. He knew better than they did the secrets of Azura's Star. He knew what they had chosen to ignore, for their squeamishness, for their weakness, and he had strength, he had courage and his resolve had sufficed and he knew. The Star was the key to the ascension, that which all mortals dreamed and feared to reach out and claim, and for what?

They were as pathetic as bugs in the earth, all of them, their minds too narrow to understand the true breadth. Malyn had chosen to face a Daedric Prince, embroiled in a battle to end all battles, and in the meanwhile, the bugs ranted endlessly of their own feeble constructions. Of right and wrong, as they liked to call it, as though that rendered it greater, as though it meant anything compared to the might and will of the Daedra themselves, or the other thing. They did not even reach to strain against the shackles of the Daedra, the oppressors of all, for they had already shackled themselves in ways beyond even Daedric power, and they dared to call him mad. This was no punishment. This was choice, this was glory, this was immortality, but this was no punishment.

It had been a long, arduous journey. The souls of men and mer were black, and Azura's Star was meant to hold only white souls, lesser souls. Yet he needed its strength, for it outshone all other soul gems, it outlasted, it endured. He alone had made the great transformation. The great binary release, the switch from closed to open. His body in the mortal world was no longer relevant. The Black Star was his home.

There were those who had chosen to follow him, of course. Loyal servants, but no more than a means to the final of the ends, for while their loyalty could be found in others, there was only one mortal who had succeeded. Only one who had stood before Azura, naked of all defenses and secrets, and not only lived to tell the tale, but lived in the brilliant light of eternity, true and full, forever wrought in the form of triumph. The Black Star was his home, his solace, his reward. The final of the ends had not always been, but would always be.

This realm was beyond the Aurbis, and yet it was one that could be seen and heard and touched, as with any other. Malyn looked upon towers and spires and plateaus of crystalline blue. Like the endless sands of Time, this realm changed and shifted as it saw fit, changing over time, rearranging over time. Sometimes Malyn was alone here. Sometimes his friends joined him. Sometimes a sacrifice would arrive, briefly. It all mattered little. The changes within the Star remained to this very moment a mystery. Perhaps one day, once he had spent long enough here, he would understand every corner of how it worked. But he did doubt it, for while overcoming the Daedra was a feat never before accomplished by mortals, it was another matter entirely with that thing.

A deep voice spoke to Malyn, "Greetings."

The friends were not here. This was not the voice of one he had encountered. The accursed Azura could not reach him here, not with the artifact wrested from her grasp, and so Malyn knew himself to rest in security. And yet the voice remained. The word left a lingering trail in his mind, metal scraping against glass, a cutting gouging shrillness, echoing. This was not right.

Malyn spoke, "Who are you?"

"Did you believe, truly—" Enough! Malyn would not tolerate the foul presence of this intruder in his realm, his rightful realm, beautiful realm, meant to be safe from unwanted strokes of ill luck. And yet the voice continued to speak, from everywhere and nowhere, beyond the wheres and whens, simply in existence, and yet not right. "—that you had ever escaped our reach?"

"Out." His voice rose. "Out! This is my realm now! You will not disturb it!"

His voice rose, but his mind cracked. He felt it. Metal crushing into glass. The foreign pestilence of the eyes and mouth and voice of the Daedra was not as this. The Daedra were a lesser illusion, creating illusions lesser still. There was a thing beyond the idea of the Daedra, which Malyn would not confront, for he knew that to do so would endanger more than he could sacrifice.

"There is nothing to disturb. You, mortal, have always known this," uttered the voice.

"No. I have never known that! You will tell me who you are."

"I am a friend of a friend. This is all you need to know."

A lie. Malyn needed to know nothing. A carefully worded construct of a sentence, this was, for it was not a simple matter of there being nothing which he needed to know. Malyn knew only enough of this thing to know that to know of its nature was a danger to endeavor to understand.

He spoke to the voice, "Explain yourself. You have come here unbidden."

"Azura does not smile upon those who defile her blessings. She made an arrangement to have you … dealt with."

A threat was not necessary to convey the meaning of this demon's whims. But Malyn remained safe here. He simply had to believe that he was safe here. Azura had failed to affect him within the protection of the Black Star, and so would this stranger. They were only words.

"She has been displeased that you have remained out of her reach. But your defenses are not enough to save you. I have come to show you the solution to the greatest mystery of your world."

Realization dawned.

'They were only words,' oh, how Malyn wished he could retract that thought. In that instant, he suddenly understood not whom this voice belonged to, but what this voice intended to do to him. His only defense would be to simply keep himself from listening, from letting the prickly black tendrils of knowledge-death enter his mind.

"It is commonly believed that the world exists within a system of… Logical rules. This is a mortal construction. A flimsy lie. Their minds are too narrow to accept what is beyond their reality. The knowledge of what lies beyond their limited world would destroy them."

Malyn would not believe that this vile grating voice was as all-knowing as it seemed to imply. He would not believe that after all that had been sacrificed, all he had done to ensure his eternity in the Black Star, his future could be undone by a stranger, a disembodied stranger, acting as though he had the answers for questions incapable of being answered. But the grating would not cease. His concentration did nothing.

"You believe you are safe here. You believe that visions from the Daedra cannot hurt you. You are wrong. I will destroy you by telling you the truth."

The sensation was unbearable, metal rending through glass, tearing at the corners of the thoughts. Screeching shrill nothingness. This did not belong in his mind, it did not belong, it would not belong, it would kill him if he understood. He had always known that it would.

The other thing. The forbidden thing. The thing beyond even the Daedra. The truth behind the illusion all mortals made their shackles in. This was the metal and the glass. There were no words. There was nothing.

His mind was incomplete. He was not dying, this was worse. Every passing moment, the thoughts inside his head were being invalidated. Disproven. They were vanishing. He could not remember what they had been.

Metal screaming, glass screaming. He had to stand for something, there was so little left, he had to make a stand, he had to retreat within his thoughts, within his own crumbling thoughts, and ignore everything else, he had to ignore everything else, he was losing it all but he had to ignore everything else, he had to ignore something, he had to, he had to do something, he had to do it. He no longer knew what.

There was pain. It made no sense, but there was pain. Darkness closed in.

He stared into the abyss. A single eye stared back at him.

No, he would not let this happen. This could not happen

This was not happening

Not like this

"Goodbye, mortal."

NO NO NO NO

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