What is a Soul?

The Elder Scrolls Series is property of Bethesda. Undertale is property of Toby Fox.

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The ancient Dwemer, or Deep Elves, were a rather solitary race. They tended to rub their Mer kin the wrong way, what with their tendency to laugh in the face of their beliefs. Which suited the Dwemer just fine—they'd carved their own home within the earth of northern Tamriel and were content with themselves.

Until Ysgramor and his five-hundred companions took Tamriel by storm, and the Falmer, known as Snow Elves, facing genocide, came to them for aid.

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Annot stared down at the Falmer, clustering together as officials directed them to their new homes.

"Rather interesting, isn't it?" Annot didn't look up as his sister stepped up beside him, leaning over the railing to stare at the spectacle below. "I mean, I know that we get along best with them, of all the other Mer out there, but for so many of them to want to live with us."

Annot shrugged, "A curious development, I will admit. But it doesn't truly concern me, Ebin."

"Oh, look at them," she, as usual, ignored him, "so scared and alone. Looking at us with an adoration I'd thought reserved for their precious Auri-El."

Annot eyed his sister. "…No."

"Beg pardon?" she asked, quirking a brow.

"I've my own experiments to conduct, I refuse to be dragged into whatever schemes you dream up."

"Come now!" Ebin teased. "You can be so stuffy! Our lines of work could intersect, if you'd only keep an open mind."

"Oh really?" Annot drawled, "And how do the breeding practices of giants relate to the composition of the Soul?"

His sister smirked at him, "Giants have souls, right?"

"They do."

"But they're not as…complex, as those of Men or Mer or those cat and lizard folk south of us."

"They are not."

"Same with the various goblin subspecies, and ogres and gremlins and—"

"What's your point?" Annot sighed.

"I just think it's interesting," Ebin leaned forward, eyes alight with mischief, "that such…simple creatures have developed their languages and cultures. Nothing compared to us of course, but still, odd, isn't it?"

Annot narrowed his eyes, "What are you getting at, sister?"

She turned back to the Falmer down below, lips spreading into a wide smirk, "It begs the question, how? Do successive generations gain greater Souls, or were they once mighty creatures, struck low by some sort of cataclysm?"

Annot froze, mind whirling at the implications. He stared down at the Falmer, terror and excitement rising within him in equal parts. "What are you planning, Ebin?" She just chuckled, teeth gleaming in the lamplight.

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Annot hummed, leaning down to peer at the fungus lying on the table. "And this does what to your sensory organs?"

"Weakens them," Chief-Alchemist Yargraz supplied, flitting between various workstations. "In small doses is causes hallucinations and can lead to a rush of hormones that lead to a sort of…euphoria." The alchemist trailed off, closing his eyes and smiling. Annot snapped his fingers in his face, breaking him from his stupor. "Hm?! Oh…anyway, we're going to slip this in the Falmers meals to start, and then just outright feed it to them. Before long, hopefully, we'll see if you and your sister's theory bear fruit."

Annot hummed, shifting his gaze to the dozens of urns filled with the fungus, and looked out the window to see Yargraz's personal automaton farming more of it. He had a distinct feeling that Yagraz had simply grafted Ebin's scheme to an already rolling one. His shoulders slumped at the thought—it was like when they were younger, and she'd convince him to summon Daedra to pelt rocks at.

Hopefully this time nothing would try and bite his arm off.

He turned back Yargraz, who was grumbling to himself as he observed some sort of alchemical reaction. "Am I bothering you, Yagraz?"

"Hm?" the mer barely looked over his shoulder, "Oh, no! It's not you, just…so much is happening right now!" He fixed Annot with a wide, manic smile. "I mean, first the Atmorans are run out of Tamriel, and then they return and drive the Falmer to us, and those dragons are…plotting something, I think." He laughed, "Isn't this just a wonderous time we live in?!"

Annot plastered a smile on his face, "Of course." He turned back to the fungus farms, "Have you set up such farms in our research facility?"

"They're being created as we speak. You won't reach the sheer volume of fungus we have here, but you'll be able to sustain your own population of Falmer well enough…eventually."

"I've no doubt." Annot clicked his tongue, "The only issue is figuring out how to accelerate the proposed timeline. I would, after all, like to observe the final results myself."

"Oh, I understand completely!" Yargraz commiserated. "But you should keep to the prescribed course. Too high a dose will lead to death more often than not."

"We could manipulate time to our favor."

"In what way?" Yargraz asked. "Interfering with the flow of time can get messy. We've discovered how to side-step it, sure, but as far as I'm aware, no one has discovered how to manipulate."

Annot sighed—he was right. No one, man or mer, had unlocked the secrets of time. He then froze, an idea coming to life in his mind.

"Dragons," he drawled, prompting Yargraz to lean closer, "They profess to be shards of Auri-El, no?"

"They specify him as Akatosh, but yes."

"And," Annot smiled, "is it not from Auri-El—or Akatosh—that time itself flowed?"

Yargraz stared at him, understanding and glee shining in his eyes.

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Annot's day had started out so well. It was simple enough to find a dragon—they tended to roost right outside dwarven cities. But he should have known it wouldn't be so easy.

It was Annot's own fault, really. Aedra and Daedra were born of similar fruit, so he'd assumed that dealing with a dragon would be as simple as dealing with a lesser Daedra. He could not have been more wrong.

He and his assistants managed to sneak-up on the dragon, encircling it as they weaved together a spell to bind it. When the magical energy latched onto the dragon, it awoke. Annot considered himself a calm mer, but he couldn't help the dread that pooled in his soul when the beast's slit emerald eyes focused on him.

Then, it smiled, craned its head towards its bound body, and shouted. The spell broke, the backlash sending Annot and his assistants flying back, one to his right dying when her head impacted a rock at a bad angle.

He rose to his feet as his assistants started battle with the dragon. Rather, started dying to the dragon. It was…inspiring, really. Annot knew that there were still mysteries to Nirn that his people had yet to unlock, but this one dragon was throwing around Tonal Architecture—the Thu'um, as their kind called it—like it was nothing.

He could understand why some men worshipped the beasts.

It bit the last of his attendants in half, swallowing the upper body whole before fixing its gaze on Annot. But instead of attacking him, the dragon reared back, smacking its lips. It said something…'Fail', 'Fall'? Whatever it was, the dragon exhaled, its rancid breath burning Annot's nostrils. Then, it spoke once more, in Dwemeris, of all things, "You are one of the…Subterranean Elves, no?"

"Deep Elf, or Dwemer, yes," Annot replied.

The dragon chuckled, "Tell me, Dwemer, why have you sought to die by Vulthuryol's Thu'um?"

Annot considered his options. This thing, Vulthuryol (he wasn't aware dragons had actual names), tore through his assistants, and he could admit that he wasn't half the fighter some of them were. Thus, he opted for honesty.

"I sought to capture you and bring you underground."

Another chuckle, "And what would possess you to do that?"

"A desire to understand the nature of the Soul."

Vulthuryol growled, it's voice shaking the very earth, "Pahlok joor! The dovahsil cannot be comprehended by your feeble mind!"

"You misunderstand," Annot replied. "It is the mortal Soul which occupies my thoughts."

The dragons anger abated, tilting its head, "And how would my capture assist you in this endeavor?"

Annot began pacing, clasping his hands behind his back, "My people like to consider ourselves masters of unraveling the mysteries of the universe. We've gotten so good at it we've turned some of our original topics of study into childish games." He could still remember the first time he summoned an aspect of Hircine as a child—he set the thing loose in a maze and made it chase an illusion for weeks. "But you dragons…your casual ease of Tonal Architecture and…irreverence towards time is, frankly, astounding."

Vulthuryol preened at the compliment, "As is our right." It regarded Annot with renewed interest, "However, the strides your people have taken is impressive as well."

"Truly?" Annot arched a brow.

"As limited as you are? Of course. To carve out the earth itself speaks wonders to your paar—your ambition. Even for a Dovah, such a task would be…difficult." It stared out into the mountain range, some strange emotion entering its emerald gaze. A type of lust, Annot realized. It would appear that dragons had their desires as well.

He suppressed the urge to smirk—he got it now. He could see where he went wrong. Could see how to salvage the situation.

He cleared his throat, "Clearly," he said when Vulthuryol's attention returned to him, "I cannot hope to match you in combat nor trickery."

"Naturally."

"But what about a trade? Knowledge, for knowledge."

Vulthruyol's eyes narrowed, lips spreading into a thin smile.

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Ebin whistled, staring out at the all-but completed research facility. "You really went all out, didn't your brother?"

Annot walked up beside her, his own smile much smaller, but no less eager. "Have I ever disappointed you, dear sister?"

"Well, there was one time back in Mzulft."

"I still got you that necklace."

She sent him a fond smirk, "That you did."

"Oh, have you ever seen anything so beautiful?!" The two siblings turned at the sudden interruption to see Yargraz striding up beside them. Annot initially assumed he was talking about the facility as a whole, but following the mer's gaze revealed he was specifically talking about the greenhouses. "The simultaneous simple and intricate spellwork that goes into accelerating time…We should really devote more resources into capturing and studying dragons."

"No," Annot cut him, making the Alchemist pout. "Vulthuryol is enough trouble as it is—and until we learn how to properly utilize the Thu'um an attempt at force will be easily repelled. Besides," he arched a brow, "do you really want more than one dragon calling Blackreach its home?"

"Oh, enough about dragons!" Ebin huffed, swatting his arm, "The Falmer are coming in any day now—we need to ensure that the city can dilate time as per our calculations."

"You doubt my work, sister?"

"Only when I'm not looking over your shoulder," she replied with a teasing grin. Annot returned the gesture with a small smile of his own. "Come, let's ensure that…what are we calling this place?"

He shrugged when she tilted her head at him, "Don't look at me." The pair turned to Yagraz.

He was still a little peeved at the earlier dismissal, but fixed them a wide grin, "In light of the work you two have put into this little venture, it's been decided that this facility shall be named Eb-ot in your honor."

Annot exchanged a bewildered stare with his sister—an honor indeed. They shared determined frowns—eyes definitely would be on them now. Well, no sense in leaving the masses wanting.

Ebin held out her arm, lips splitting into a devious grin, "Come, brother. We've work to do."

"Indeed," Annot replied, looping his arm through hers and leading her into Eb-ot, "let us decipher the truth of the Soul."

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A/N: This was a weird mix of fandoms. But fun (except for sifting through the Elder Scrolls timeline). Don't plan on making this anything more than it already is. Be sure to leave a review. Later.