My new story. I've tried writing this several times over the last few years, and I'm sure that none of you will recognize it, as it's pretty much a completely different story. This will have a mixture of different intents, but in general I've tried taking this seriously. If you like this, don't read my Harry Potter story. If you like my Harry Potter story, this is proof my actual writing in unintentionally bad.
Either way, enjoy. No scheduled updates, just whenever I write and edit the next document enough that I either feel it's good or get too tired to care, but I plan to make this a series.
I should have known it would come here. The Second Great War had been as inevitable as the rising of the Moons. The Thalmor had been insidiously spreading their influence through their embassies, attempting to turn the Imperial Warmachine against itself, creating rebellions and unrest however it could. The Imperials had responded by raising new legions, ruthlessly crushing any who dared to declare independence and turning all the resources at their disposal towards war preparations. Moons, I had an entire daedric library that all pointed at war's inevitability. Despite that, I had the foolishness, the vain hope that it would be averted, that the doomed rebellion on the Summerset Isles would do something to prevent this pointless death. However, it failed to result in anything. All the leaders were publicly executed, their families shamed and beaten to death by vicious mobs, and nothing came of it. Just pointless death after pointless death.
I took another sip as I leaned back. The wood creak slightly as my weight shifted. In front of me was a desk covered in experimentation request forms, inventories, reprimands, official requests, Imperial Petitions and other meaningless drivel that had taken up my time prior to today. The reason for this change was all over the papers, dripping off the sides of the table and pooling on the ground. Blood stained many of the papers, dripping from the golden leaf patterned sword pushed through the elvem Master Wizard currently impaled to my desk. Her robes were almost entirely torn off and barely clung to her form, and her eyes remained staring up at me. She was not alone. All across the College were dead bodies, students and teachers who had gathered at the College for the purpose of the exploration of magic, and finding their limits. "Such a shame" I said to myself, regarding the cadaver in front of me. "All of your research, your centuries of experience for what? A message to an absent leader." It seems an idiot had been placed in charge of the attack, as the amount of blood across the College grounds was far too excessive for just the college members. "At least you made their message hard fought, if wasted when the letter you delivered would have been more effective." Not that she had delivered it willingly, mind you, as it was stabbed through her back with a dagger, though the message was obvious with the dead bodies all over and the timing. "It's also quite indicative of their shitty intelligence if they thought that raping you would do something to me".
I went to take another sip, and noticed it was empty. Checking the bottle, it was empty as well. Feeling the buzz already beginning to wear off, I snarled and threw the bottle at the pillar in the center of the room, calm evaporating at the same speed as the alcohol. How dare they mess with my College! How dare they trick me! How dare they insult me this way! Feeling the rage bubble over, red descended over my vision.
I was panting in the middle of the room. My robes had clearly been torn in my tantrum, and all the books along the walls were burning, smoke leaving through the smashed window. Snow came streaming in, wind howling and filling the room with finger numbing cold. From outside I could hear some shouts and metal banging from the small village at the foot of the bridge. Clearly my fit of rage had involved a lot of fire and lightning given the scorchmarks and burning books. I looked back over at my desk, which had been upended during the fit, seeing Faralda's body now underneath it, burnt and more mauled than it had been previously, to the point I was barely able to recognize the corpse. Looking at it, I felt the same rage take a hold of me, but rather than burning hot, it gripped my heart and my throat in a cold rage, and I felt a clarity of thought diffuse the haze in my mind like the cold breeze killing off the fires surrounding me. "They are all going to pay for what they have done. I swear it".
From deep in my mind, I heard a chuckle, and a deep voice spoke out to me. "Is that an 'I' I hear? Is the Kitty finally learning to speak Tamrielic?" "Quiet Miraak. Now is not the time." The deep laughter of Miraak filled my mind again, then said "I agree, my dear Vahzennaak. They have wronged us, and we must not allow them to get away." "Khajiit is surprised to hear that from you. Would you not be better served to see my achievements destroyed like this?"
I heard Miraak sigh in exasperation, then "I was the one who gave you most of the advice that you used to keep the College alive. Besides, I don't want the one to have killed me to seem to be a weakling. Then my name would be ruined right alongside yours." I snorted. While his self centered advice was often faulty and biased, it was never malicious, and had saved my life on more than one occasion. While I'm not completely sure of how he came to reside in my head, it seemed likely it had to do with the Draconic Souls that differentiated us Dragonborn from mortal men.
"So, do we clean up the bodies first or let the nords deal with the dead their own way?" My answer was promptly answered with a great bang as the gates of the bridge of the College were broken open, and stomping sabatons ringed off snow covered stone. Looking out, I could see a group of guards nervously crossing the bridge, followed by a plate wearing Housecarl and the Jarl in his customary robes. Even from this distance, I could see his angry looks, though I imagined I could also see some trepidation. Not that it was unwarranted, he had dealt with many College experiments gone awry.
With a quick spell, the tattered remains of my Arch Mage robe came off and the mantle of Miraak, the robes of the Champion of Hermaes Mora, appeared on me, a mask depositing itself in my hand. With a crack of my neck, I placed the helmet on, saying."It seems that Ra'zikaar has a destined meeting." Miraak laughed as I summoned my staff and walked down the steps to the Hall of Elements.