The Heart of a Daedra

By The Grey Knight v2

Chapter 17: Sjern's POV

Sjern was sitting back in the stone chair in the meeting room where he had somehow ended the Civil War in Skyrim. Both sides seemed pleased and mere minutes after his promise to deal with the Thalmor, General Tullius and Lady Elsyif set off back to Solitude to get the word out that the Civil War was over. Ulfric returned to Windhelm alone as well, having sent Galmar, at Tullius' request, to speak to the Orc Chieftain in Mor Khazgur, an Orc Stronghold, to ask them to use their excellent smithing skills, as well as those of the other Strongholds, to craft the armour for the Army of Skyrim. Ulfric and Elsyif would then send word to all the smiths of the major cities to help the Orc's to carry out this immense task.

Now Sjern was sitting alone, spinning one of his Daedric daggers on the tip of its blade, hoping against hope that the Champion of Cyrodil would accept their offer to become High King. He did not want to leave until he had an answer from the Champion, just in case the great Orc should arrive shortly after his departure.

'I sincerely hope Ralof and Rikke have not offended him somehow.' Sjern thought, knowing how hasty both the young warriors could be.

Letting the dagger spin out one last time, Sjern got to his feet, sheathed the dagger and walked out to the main hall. There, meditating silently was Arngeir and Roki, both with their eyes shut and mouths moving but making no sound. Knowing it was not wise to interrupt a Greybeard during meditation, Sjern decided to walk out the back door of High Hrothgar, where his friends were all practising individual skills. Serana had her eyes closed and was swinging her sword with a certain grace that told Sjern that it was planned and not just mindless swiping, Infernus was calmly engulfing himself in silvery flames, disappearing and reappearing at random points around the courtyard, Shadowfang was sparring with Knight Zacharias. Sjern decided to watch the sparring session for a while before getting into his own training.

It was clear that Knight Zacharias was the better swordsman, but Shadowfang was making up for her lack of skill with her amazing speed and strength. She would jab at him then quickly leap to the left or right and swipe at his side, meaning the Knight was constantly on the defence. Something wasn't entirely right however, Zacharias wasn't attempting any form of counter attack, leading Sjern to believe that he was merely baiting Shadowfang. A few minutes later, Sjern's theory proved true. As Shadowfang got in close to swipe at the Knight's face with her claws, Knight Zacharias hefted his shield, causing Shadowfang's claws to simply scratch off of it. Then he took his chance. Shield-bashing the young Khajiit, knocking her back a few steps, he began slashing at her with his steel longsword, putting her on the defensive for the first time. It wasn't until he had forced her back until she had her back to the large gate that he showed her what he could do. Raising his sword as if to attack, he tricked Shadowfang into raising Chillrend to defend herself, then, while her attention was on his own blade, he kicked out at her feet, knocking her to the ground. Standing tall over the defeated Khajiit, he held the tip of his blade at her throat and simply said:

"You were a worthy opponent, Khajiit. May your foes tremble upon catching sight of you."

Zacharias sheathed his weapon and walked away after that, leaving Shadowfang looking rather disappointed that he had turned the fight around so easily. She cheered up slightly, however once Infernus called her over to practise some spells with him. Meanwhile, Sjern had been so engrossed in Zacharias and Shadowfang's sparring session, that he didn't notice Serana standing beside him until she spoke.

"He's a bit of a mystery, that Knight Zacharias, isn't he?" She asked Sjern.

Sjern nodded. "He seems to be useful in a fight though. I don't know how he does it. It's like he waits and waits until you reveal your weakness and then he exploits it. On top of that, the man never seems to tire at all. It's like he's on a constant fatigue potion."

Serana simply chuckled.

"What?" Sjern asked, not getting the joke.

"You really don't see it?" Serana asked. When Sjern shook his head, she chuckled again. "He's undead. Well, technically he's undead. He has all the physical features of an undead but it's almost as if he's a normal man in the body of a Draugr or something."

Sjern was shocked. He knew there was something different about Knight Zacharias but until now he couldn't quite put his finger on it. Making up his mind then and there, he told Serana he'd be back in a minute and walked over to the Knight, who was calmly watching Shadowfang and Infernus practise their magic. When he caught sight of Sjern, he turned his attention to him.

"What can I do for you Dragonborn?" He asked.

Sjern took a deep breath. "Forgive me Knight Zacharias, but I would like to know if you have a tale to tell. I would be quite interested if you would like to share it."

Sjern couldn't see his face as it was hidden by the helmet, but he could tell that Zacharias was burdened by his story.

"Very well Dragonborn. Sit, and I'll tell you." The Knight began.

Sjern sat down on a nearby rock and looked over at the Knight, who sighed before starting.

"Though I may not look it, I was once a Breton of High Rock. My family was of low nobility and we lived in relative comfort. My own father was a knight like myself and one of the bravest men I've ever known. He trained me in the art of close combat. He, however, being a noble and righteous man, made a few enemies of the darker art of Necromancy and one night, as we all lay asleep, one particular band of Necromancers stormed the castle using summoned Atronachs. My father woke first, smelling the smoke from a fire and he immediately woke my mother and I. My mother was told to stay hidden and I was to guard her while my father fought the Necromancers and their Atronachs. For a while, we heard nothing but the occasional scream until finally, my father opened the door. My mother, in her grief, didn't realise it, but my father had been killed somehow and reanimated by the final Necromancer, so when she ran to embrace him, he ran her through with his sword. The spell must have ended then as I watched him turn to dust. The man who had raised me, taught me to wield a blade and fought so valiantly, turned to dust by a Necromancer. Then, he walked in. I still remember his expression, one of pure victory. He fire-balled my sword from my hand and cast a Paralysis spell on me. Using Telekinesis, he lifted my body and transported me back to his hideout in some ruined old castle. There, under constant supervision from his apprentice, I was experimented on.

For two years, this happened. I had flesh seared from my body and replaced with the grey hide you see now. But one day, the last day of the second year, something went wrong. The Necromancer accidentally killed me but when he cast the reanimation spell, I was fine. I was better than fine, I felt new. I soon found that I had gotten a lot stronger and my stamina levels had increased exponentially. I could run the length of Skyrim twice over and not get a little fatigued. What was more, anytime I was killed, I would quickly reawaken in my body. The Necromancer's magic had left a mark on my very soul and from then, I could not die.

There was one major problem however. The Necromancer had gotten inside my head and held full control over me. For five whole years, I did that evil man's bidding. I razed villages, murdered soldiers, destroyed crops, whatever malicious thought entered his head, I carried out. Finally, the Necromancer had been found out by a group of adventurers who wanted to collect the bounty on his head. When they burst into the room, the Necromancer made a fatal mistake. He ordered me to kill everyone in the room. As I was… am technically undead, I was exempt from this. I killed the three adventurers but, still bound by his orders, without him realising it, I now had to kill the Necromancer. I approached him slowly, my sword still drawn. Then, before he knew what was happening, I skewered him multiple times and left him for dead on the floor. I put away my sword, grabbed a shield from one of the wall displays and left that accursed castle for good.

I came to Skyrim, hoping to reconcile for my misdeeds while I looked for a cure for my condition. I helped anyone and everyone who asked for my aid. Then, the other day as I was wiping out a Bandit lair that I had come across, I met the first man since my father who could hold his own against me. That was you Dragonborn, and you know the rest from there."

Sjern was shocked and appalled but at the same time, he couldn't help but admire the Knight. He had gone through so much in his life and still he retain his sense of what was right and wrong. He wanted to atone for his past crimes and would not stop until he had.

"That... that was a tale unlike any I have heard, noble Knight. I commend you for what you have endured and I want you to know that everyone of us here will help you find this cure should you so wish. You have lived long enough with this curse and deserve your rest."

Zacharias simply nodded and thanked Sjern. Just as he was about to speak, he was interrupted by a deep, gruff voice.

"Well Dragonborn, I understand you sent for me."

Sjern spun around and, sure enough, standing there in the middle of High Hrothgar courtyard, was Jar'mey, the Hero of Kvatch and saviour of Cyrodil.

Alright guys, hope you liked this chapter. It's not very action packed but I had to give Knight Zacharias some focus. If you guys are wondering, he is an OC submitted by Raex for the original fanfic and every piece of his back story comes from his own mind. Definitely a great OC.

Now, I have, once again, a favour to ask. As you all know, I lost a lot of information on this fanfic. I had background info on Daedra OC's who would be playing the main villain. So, I ask a huge favour once more of my readers.

I need a Daedra guys. And not your typical red and black, Mehrunes Dagon servant. I mean I need a truly powerful, completely evil and malicious being of… well anything that's bad. Go crazy, make him/her/it a normal character granted the status of a Daedric Prince (think of an evil Talos) but he/she/it cannot be invulnerable. I know Daedric Princes are meant to be invulnerable but what I need is a Daedra with the power and status of a Daedric Prince, but still mortal.

You can submit your OC's through the review section or through a PM. As I did the last time, if I receive more than one excellent OC, I will put it to you all to vote for your favourite and the winner shall be the main adversary… adver-sary…..advers-ary… the main dick of this fanfic (sorry, I'm a Little Kuriboh fan xD). But honestly, the winner will be the main villain of this fanfic. Here's the list of requirements.

I need:
A name/nickname: e.g Dras (also known as the Destructinator)

A unique feature: e.g He can summon an army with a clap of his hands.

Weapon/weapons: e.g Twin Daedric battleaxes.

One major weakness: e.g he's clumsy.

One major strength: e.g he's 12 foot tall.

A reason why he'd want to destroy Tamriel: e.g He's a devout follower of Dagon.

And finally
His one Lieutenant: e.g A Dremora Kynreeve with enhanced strength and one-handed skill. (Basically someone to be a major fight before the final fight.)

Thanks again guys, I look forward to seeing your OC's.