AN: Hey, sorry it's been so long. I love this story, but... Well, after the thirty seventh announcement that Skyrim was being re-released, I kind of lost interest for a hot second. I love Skyrim, don't get me wrong, but I was kind of hoping for the next game some time in the next two years.

On top of that, I got a review on this story that made me realize I wasn't doing the story the justice it deserved, so I had to find out a way to make that a bit better. Which reminds me, thank you Skyfire. While I had always intended for it to be a 50/50 split, looking back it's clear that it certainly isn't. The ending for Dragonborn I have now is far more of a victory for Thera than I had originally planned, and I believe it has become better for it just as you said. This also means... it's far sadder.

Also, to goddragonking: thank you. I hope that this story becomes what I want it to.

Jul

Lucius

When we finally set down outside of the Skaal village, Serana's hands were locked around my torso in what could only be described as a vice, her already cold hands now like ice from the wind in the skies. Her teeth were chattering, though she could not get cold. "So, I take it we found the one thing that can scare Serana, the bravest Vampire," I joked with a grin. The Vampire's golden eyes met mine and she hissed, baring her fangs near my throat. "Ooh, empty threats?"

"I recall you liked a little biting," she responded with a smirk.

I was about to reply in kind, but was cut off by an annoyed huff tinged with the smell of smoke. "Please, stop Qahroniir. You have the company of a fellow Dov to consider." I glanced down at the dragon glaring at the two of us on his back, his dripping flesh only serving to amplify the discomfort he felt at our conversation's sudden turn.

My grin turned sheepish. "Of course," I muttered, moving with Serana to dismount as I did. When my feet hit the ground, I bowed slightly to the dragon. "Apologies, Durnehviir."

"Hmph," he grunted, the closest I would get to his accepting the apology. His wings spread out and began to flap, creating massive gusts of wind that caused our cloaks to flutter wildly in the wind until he finally flew away.

I shook my head, allowing myself one last moment of amusement, then grew serious. "We have to hurry to the village. We cannot risk Thera tricking the shaman into dying at Mora's hand. He doesn't take knowledge in a way comfortable to mortals." Serana nodded and took off, me at her side, up the hill towards the village.

"You might even like the Imperial Capital," I said after a moment of silence.

"Really?" Serana asked with one eyebrow raised. She rolled her eyes and continued running. "Why do you think that?"

"Because I'm there most of the time," I said with a sly grin. "And so is my home. My bed..."

Serana laughed once. "You really miss the biting, don't you?" she mocked, returning my sly grin.

"... An Emperor does not need to admit to such things," I responded, my voice as haughty as I could stand to make it, though the laughter was probably audible behind it.

Serana certainly thought so, as she continued mocking me. "And behind the closed doors of that bedroom?"

"Is that a yes?" I asked hopefully.

"It's not a – NO!" she stood stock still for a moment, her face contorted in a twisted look of terror and anguish as she absorbed the sight in front of her. My eyes followed her gaze and that same terrified chill ran through me as well. Serana sprinted now towards the village, her right hand drifting down to pull her dagger out and summoning a blazing fireball to her other hand.

I wasn't far behind, but I knew it was too late.

Hermaeus Mora's tentacles had wrapped themselves around their target's throat.

Serana slid to a stop a short while before me, and the fireball flew from her fingertips towards the Black Book floating in front of Storn. The cloud of darkness, eyes, and tentacles turned one of the infinite, shifting eyes towards the fireball and a tentacle flicked upward. The fireball hit the tentacle and was sent flying upward and into the air, exploding into nothing a few dozen feet into the air. "You have impeccable timing, Atmorans," Hermaeus Mora stated, his many eyes squinting with joy as he spoke to Serana and me. Storn gurgled in the Daedra's grasp and the monster's gazes returned to him. "And I have not forgotten of you. I am pleased with how amiable this exchange has been, Skaal. What knowledge you have brought me... Prophecies upon prophecies, secrets within secrets..."

"Nahlot!" I snapped, and the Daedra laughed. Unfazed, I continued. "Release him."

"If you insist," the demon said, his voice making the noise of a shrug as the tentacles recoiled from Storn's skull and the old man fell to the ground.

"Storn!" Serana shouted, sprinting towards the man.

"Father!" Frea did the same.

I simply raised my blade to the cause of all this. "Thera... You dare do this?"

"Stop shouting names," the Vampiress commanded with a smirk. She placed her hands on her hips and her smirk deepened cruelly. "Always a few moments late, aren't we? Paarthurnax, Isran, and now this?"

I snarled, enraged, and took a step towards her, only to stop on instinct when she began to speak confidently despite the fact I could easily kill her with a thought. "No, I don't think you'll do that. If I die, the agreement with Mora is void." She gestured at Storn. "And I doubt the old man managed to survive. Meaning, without me going to kill Miraak, he will overtake this village and then my world."

"Or I could kill you and figure out a way to get to Miraak," I growled, ignoring the fact she would already call Nirn her world.

"I doubt you will find a way into my realm so easily, Atmoran." My head snapped towards Mora. The demon's voice deepened to a guttural roar, angrily rebuking me, "And your threat that you would attempt such a thing is not something I take... lightly."

"I have fought gods stronger than you," I hissed defiantly.

"Alduin? A dragon claiming to be more. A petulant child." Mora laughed, a noise both slow and painful to hear as it dragged against my eardrums. "I existed before my fool brothers gave their power to birth your... hovel."

"I faced Bal and survived. You're a bookworm compared to that demon," Serana snapped, similar taunts on my tongue. Mora hissed angrily in response.

"Perhaps we should move on," Thera suggested before the Daedra could respond. I hated to admit it, but the bitch had courage on top of her insanity. "And what better way than by giving me what was agreed upon, Mora."

"Of course." The molasses voice was smug. "I tire of Miraak's insubordination."

"NO!" I snapped, charging the elf with Dragonbane raised. Dorthe tackled me to the side before I managed to get close. I shoved her off, eyes wild. "What was that for!?" She just silently pointed towards Thera. In front of the woman floated a sharp pointed tentacle that had been aimed for my heart.

"To slight me again, Little Dragon? To demand I stop? Shame. It seems you have no interest in my offer." The tentacle turned and impaled Thera through her chest. The Thalmor Vampire stumbled back and cried out in surprise as the black substance passed through her and began to coil around her body like a snake. The sight would have made me happy had I not known what was going on here. The tentacle straightened out and erupted from Thera's chest, leaving little but a momentary stain of Mora's inky evil on her armor and a permanent one within her soul. If she had one, that is. "Though, perhaps, you are unnecessary. The spare of the set." There was a pause. "I despise useless redundancies."

A portal of Darkness flew open from beneath Mora's avatar, from within the Black Book. Tentacles flew from the edge of the gateway and reached out for Thera, ready to take her to Miraak. To kill him, to claim... something. I knew not what, but I knew I had to stop her from getting it. I scrabbled to my feet, sprinting towards the portal with a singular focus. I had to stop her, I had to save the world. I – The portal slammed shut and I was left sprinting through nothing over a book slammed shut. Everything froze. I had... failed. I bent down and tore the book from the ground, pulling it open with all my strength.

Or I would have, had the book been able to open. "What..? Why..? No. No, no no NO!" I threw the book onto the ground and fell to my knees. "The books can only take one person into Oblivion at a time. I..." I pulled a dagger from my belt and slammed it down on the book, a useless move that caused the Ebony blade to shatter into a thousand pieces, though I continued to uselessly slam the stump of the blade into the book. Once, twice... I lost count. Eventually, I noticed that someone was holding my arm back.

"Snap out of it." I dropped the knife and turned to glare up at Serana. "We don't have time for you to fall apart, Luc, so act like the man you are and focus!"

I stared at the golden eyes above me and looked past her to see my child, Octavian, running towards us. "Mama, what's going on?" he asked, tears welling up in his eyes and terror on his face. He grabbed at Serana's hand and pulled the woman down slightly. She bent down and hugged him tight even as his voice grew more urgent. "Mama, what happened to Storn?"

Serana glanced between our son and me. "Oct..." she was at a loss for words. Our son, a child, just like me seeing death too young. The Aedra were cru... I surged to my feet, a momentary smile on my face despite everything. The Aedra were the key to this game. "That was a lot faster than even I expected."

"Eh, I thought it seemed slow," Dorthe said half-jokingly.

"The gods can be quite capricious and cruel, but at least they gave me what we need right now," I responded. I knelt down to look my son in the eyes, his sadness reflected in my own. "Octavian, I know what this is like. I saw this when I was your age and it's terrible, and you shouldn't have to see it. You're a boy, my boy, and I would protect you from this if I could. Storn was a good man, wasn't he, and good men don't deserve to die like that." Octavian looked at me with a level of paradoxical distrust and familiarity, then nodded. "Then you should know he's with the gods, with his father and his father. He is at peace, waiting to hear stories of how you change the world when he sees you next." I knew it was little comfort to the boy. It was still little comfort to me, and seemed more like a cliché spoken by a fool than any sort of wise words regardless of the truth in the words. "I..." I struggled to find any meaningful words, but I realized I had none, so I instead leaned forward and wrapped my arms around my son and the woman I love. "I'm sorry. I know he had always been there for you." I didn't say it, but I felt a thought run through my mind – Unlike me.

I let go slowly and stood up. I didn't want to ever let him go, but I had to. Turning to the woman who was now Shaman of the Skaal, I prepared to ask an impossible favor. "Frea, what are the All-Maker stones made of?"

"Welkynd stones sent by the All-Maker," she said, confused. I sighed sadly. This confirmed my hope – and fear.

But there was no time for paralyzing guilt. "Dorthe, take the book and the Bow of Auri-El to the nearest All-Maker stone," I commanded, taking the weapon from my shoulders and handing it to her. The Blade glanced at me for a moment with a look of complete confusion, but then nodded and ran off as commanded. I turned next to the Vampiress at my side. "Serana, I'm going to need a vial of your blood."

"Why?" she inquired, her voice slightly confused.

"The blood of a Daughter of Coldharbour is potent, incredibly so. It acts as an anchor for Molag Bal to interact with Nirn ever since Oblivion was closed off to Nirn." I took a breath. "Martin Septim. Spell and history books sat that, during the Oblivion crisis, he once used the armor of Tiber Septim, a Grand Welkynd Stone, a Daedric Artifact, and a Great Sigil Stone to tear open the veil and allow the Hero of Kvatch into Oblivion. More generally, the ritual required the energy created by the blood of an Aedra, Pure Welkynd, Daedric artifacts, and a Daedric anchor to split the veil. I can perform almost the same exact ritual using the Bow, the Stone, the Black Book, and a vial of your blood respectively."

Frea knew more than I had hoped – but not more than I had expected – about such a ritual. "But that would break the stone! Drain it of its energy, maybe even destroy it completely!" Frea shouted. She shook her head and drew her ax. "I won't allow my people to lose their shaman and their protection in one day."

I sighed sadly. "I don't want this either, Frea, but if I don't then we're all dead. Either Thera loses to Miraak, he comes here, and he kills us all. Or she wins, she comes here, and she kills us all. I... I'm truly sorry, but this is the only way everyone can survive."

Frea stared at me, betrayal in her eyes. "You..." She shook her head and growled, "No. I can't let you destroy the Stone."

I sighed and looked down. "Serana, I need you to stay here with our son. Dorthe will come back to help once I'm gone," I stated, my voice completely even despite how much I hated what I was about to do.

"You didn't hear me? I said that I won't let you -"

She wasn't able to finish speaking. "Mah Vul Hahdrim," I whispered. A wave of purple energy exploded from my throat and slammed into the Skaal while passing over my family. Frea's glare of betrayal intensified as her eyes drifted shut and she, and her entire people, fell unconscious to the hard dirt. "I'm sorry, Frea. I can't risk what I have only just been given." My eyes fell on my son. "And everything I will be given."

I noticed Serana staring at me and a small look of confused fear on my son's face. Fear of me. Seeing that hurt. Serana spoke up, saying, "You've changed."

"I've had to," I said simply, my voice hollow as I let the fear in my son's eyes hit me. It was good; maybe he could be a better man than I.

"I know. I'm sorry," she said. She pulled out her dagger and a small, empty flask. Placing the blade to her wrist, she dragged it across her skin and brought the flask beneath the stream of red that erupted from her flesh. It stitched together quickly and the flow stopped when the flask was about a fifth full, her body healed by her Vampiric nature. "Necessity makes us cruel."

There was a moment of silence as I took the flask and put a stopper in it. "I will find a way to fix this," I stated, more for myself than anything else.

"I know you'll try." Serana handed the flask over, leaning toward me and planting a kiss on my cheek. She left hesitantly. "But make sure that you come back so you can actually try. I'm tired of one of us running off for so long."

I grinned and shook my head, then bent down and grabbed my son's shoulder again. "Listen, make sure your mother doesn't do anything stupid, okay? She's lost without me." His mother rolled her eyes, knowing I was speaking to her more so. If my son was anything like me, he would play hero eventually, and he needed a smart woman to keep him in check. Until then, his mother would do.

Octavian nodded somberly, bravery disguising his fear of me in his eyes. I could still see it, though.. I hoped I could spend my lifetime making up for that. I turned slowly towards the Stone where Dorthe waited for me, barely an ant atop the hill. "I better go."

Fahiil

Thera

I walked through the quiet halls of Apocrypha, the demons of the realm electing to ignore my coming. It seemed that Miraak had little interest in hindering my advance towards him, instead opting to open my path as wide as possible. I could understand – I had only waited a few short years to mantle a god, while he had waited countless millennia to escape the place he had been trapped. And escape he would, his worthless human soul passing into the empty void in which it belonged.

Still, couldn't he at least give me something to pass the time? "Miraak. Miraak! Do you expect me to tire by simply walking towards you?" I shouted at the ink that made up the sky. There was no response. "You prefer to slight me, then. Fine. It will make your death more satisfying."

I continued walking in silence, save for the quiet rustling of books that surrounded me. "First I will kill you, Miraak," I said, completely sure that the fool human could hear me. I reached into my pocket and grabbed hold of the artifact that would ensure my victory – one of the two branches of knowledge already granted me by Mora. "And then I will return to Nirn and force Ayleid to watch as I bleed his whore out on the Bow he holds so dear. Every. Last. Drop."

Still, no response.

I took a breath to cut back my anger at this indignity. Fine. No, this was good. I took my hand from my pocket and continued to walk in silence. If Miraak wanted to underestimate me in comparison to my Jokaar, I would prove that was his biggest mistake in the thousands of years he had been alive.

So I continued walking through the maddeningly quiet halls of Apocrypha, wondering if this was some sort of godly torment Mora was putting me through for his own entertainment.

Jul

Miraak

Miraak watched the black portal open and the Dragonborn finally appear in his pocket of Apocrypha. He frowned when he saw who it was. "The Mer?" he asked himself, a low growl of anger and annoyance forming in his throat. He shook his head from atop his slave dragon. Miraak would have preferred the Man, tiring him out and killing him first would give him a rewarding battle – he was an Atmoran at heart still, after all – and eradicated a dangerous enemy before the war even began. Now he would be forced to waste his time with a weak, overconfident Vampire and be forced to fight Lucius Atmoran at his full, unbounded strength with a dozen allies at his back. He would win, of course... but he could be injured beyond whatever magick could repair. All three Dragonborn dead in a single day? It had a certain poetic note to it that made it seem exactly like a story that the gods would write.

At the very least, he could maximize the joy he would take in this fight. He raised his hand and waved it, a thousand orbs of black energy appearing and forcing his armies to depart from this region of Oblivion. "Do you think this wise, Master?" Sahrotaar cautioned the Man on his back, a Dragon forced to behave like a cautious advisor.

"Elves are weak creatures. Women much the same, Sahrotaar. She is nothing compared to her Jokaar, but I would see why she has troubled him so," Miraak explained. "At the very least my battle will be more entertaining this way."

Last words of fools, Sahrotaar thought inwardly, the last vestiges of free will sneaking beneath Miraak's control. Will they be yours as well?