The Fabric of Mundas works in strange ways, for Lorkhan's creation was filled with the magics of the Aedra. The mortals that walked the plane lived fleeting lives, even the long lived elves are nothing more then a speck in the grand creation, but there are a few that stand out. Be it emperors like Tiber Septim, who founded the Third Empire and became the mighty god Talos, or Heroes such as The Nerevarine, The Hero of Kvatch, the redguard Cyrus.
Born in the 187nd year of the Fourth Era was one such mortal. A half elf was born to a Nord father and Dunmer mother in the ash lands of Morrowind. This half elf was trained in martial combat by her warrior father, and the ways of destruction magic by her mage mother. She grew up learning to fight, and when she left on her own adventure she went west, to her father's land. To Skyrim, to fight with the Stormcloaks, but her first meeting with the revolution seemed to be her last.
Tied and thrown in cart she was brought to Helgen. The headsman axe was sharp and there was no trial. She fought the soldiers as she was pulled to the headsmen block, mouth gagged and hands bound. She decided that if she was to die, she would fight to the end. "She has the heart of a true Nord." one of the Stormcloaks had said. "I hope to see her in Sovernguard."
Her face was pinned to the block, mouth bloodied as she cursed the Imperials. As the executioner raised his axe up above his head, a black shadow fell upon the town, flying high above was a dragon of obsidian scales. In the chaos as the town burned she escaped with Ralof, later making her way to Riverwood and then the Hold's capitol Whiterun.
She became many things, a soldier and war hero of the storm cloaks, Thane of the Nine holds, and named Dragonborn by the old Greybeards atop the throat of the world. She traveled to Sovngarde and with help of the three warrior Tongues of the bygone age slew the black Dragon Alduin.
She slayed the Vampire lord Harkon, but her last challenge was her greatest, for she was locked in combat with the Traitor, Mirraak.
Chapter 1: Aren Ashblood
I leaned on the blood red sword, the BloodSkaal Blade, my right hand glowed gold as I closed the wounds that bleed on the page riddled stones of Herma Mora's realm. "So last Dragonborn, you stand at the turning of an age. I'll offer you one last chance to join me." Mirraak passed his vile sword dripped with my crimson ichor.
"Nay, I'll never join one as vile as you." I pushed myself to my feet, swaying I spat blood from my mouth. "FUS RO DAH!" The wall of force slammed into the man, but his robes only noticed the Thu'um, as though it were no more then a strong wind.
"Allow me to show you how it's done." He drew in a breath and the entire realm stopped. "FUS RO DAH!" I was blown from the tower, and I fell into the depths of the ink sea, defeated... my power had met a stonger force.
'Will I see Sovngarde?' I thought as I felt my grip lessen on my weapon, the poison filled my lungs and I faded.
I watched as Young Midoriya hauled large amounts on trash across the beach in his joint effort to train his body and clean the water front. "Well done, just few more hours and we will be done for today." I said as he shifted a large fridge.
"Yeah... Just need to sit down for a second." the green haired boy sat down on the sand.
"Oh no you don't back to work!" I picked him up.
At that moment a sickly green vortex opened above us and a armored figure fell onto the sand with a thud. "Wasted potential." A single vile eye emerged from it. Black ooze bubbling around it. "And I had such high hopes." It shrunk back into the vortex and vanished. I set the boy down and rolled the figure over, it was a girl Midoriya's age, a black green slime mixed with her blood as she struggled for air. Her dark grey skin contrasted her short white hair. on her back was a gleaming bow and a full quiver of arrows, in her hand was a massive red and black sword with runes running down the length. Her armor was rent into scrap with deep gashes that tore into her flesh. She needed a doctor.
Transforming to my muscle form I scoped her up and looked to my student. "I'll take her to the hospital."
It had been a week since the mystery girl had arrived, there was no record of her, anywhere in the world. And she was in a medical coma. I visited her daily to see how her condition was. When the doctors removed the armor they had found that her skin was a scarred all over, years of abuse? Once they were certain she was stable they brought her out of the catatonic state. I had brought a friend along, Principle Nezu of UA.
We sat in her room waiting for the drugs to wear off. Slowly she started to stir only to roll over and mutter something. "No, nobody stole my sweet roll." She murmured. A soft voice.
Slowly she opened her eyes and sat up while stretching. "Where... am I?" She asked her self as she looked aroung, red and blue eyes sliding right over us a few times before she noticed us.
"You are in Mustafu general Hospital." I said.
"Mustafu? Sorry, but I've been all over Skyrim and Morrowind, and I have never heard of this place." She looked at us with confusion.
"Skyrim? Morrowind?" Nezu asked. Her eyebrow raised as she looked at the animal Principle.
"They are two of the Provence's of Tamirel, why Skyrim just separated from the third empire under the leadership of High King Ulfric Stormcloak." She tilted her head at us. "Under what boulder on Nirn have you been?"
"Nirn?" I asked.
"The world, Nirn. Shor's creation of the mortal realm." Was this girl crazy?
"What do you remember?" Nezu asked.
"I was... fighting... Miraak… he was trying to escape the realm of Herma Mora, the Deadric prince of forbidden knowledge. He wanted to rule over the mortals races." She said. "But I wasn't strong enough, he won..."
"I'm afraid I have some bad news." Nezu said. "Your no longer on Nirn, our world is called earth."
It took a few weeks for Aren to adjust to the new world around her, to the new laws and people. Her secret was kept to a select few, but she didn't have anywhere to stay. So I took her in. The head lines read for weeks about my new 'daughter' and how it was such a good thing for me to do. A full month after her arrival I brought her to the beach where I was training Young Midoriya. "Aren this is Izuku Midorya."
"Oh uh hi." The boy stammered.
"Greeting sir Midoryia." She bowed, she liked simple clothes, brown trousers and a black button up shirt.
"I've brought her here to see just how strong her quirk is." I said as she stepped to the edge of the water.
"I understand." And we turned to her and waited.
She took in a deep breath. "Yol Toor SHUL!" A inferno erupted from her mouth that raced over the water. Steam rose from the surface before she thrust her hand forward and a wave of cold air turned the water vapor into snow. She turned to us with a smile. It was hard to believe that this child had killed bandits and fought in a war. But she was strong, and it was impossible to deny that.
The months passed quickly and a soon it was time for the UA entrance exam. I sat in my room as I ran a whet stone down my great sword's edge. I kept whispering the warriors code my father had drilled into me. "A true warrior never harms the innocent. He seeks battle for the glory of ending evil. So long as a Nord has ice in their blood, combat will stir their hearts." I placed the blade on it's stand a knelt in front of my shrine to Talos. And prayed, for hours I knelt. "Talos, give me the courage to be a hero."
And I wanted to do this for a while, not connected to my other stories.