A/N: Hello everyone! Sorry for the long wait. You know how these things go; you get a job, then ambitions and then a whole whirlwind of s**t happens that you didn't want to happen. Anyway, I'm back with a new chapter and hopefully, I'll be more consistent with it! Thank you to all who read Dragon Crisis so far and I hope you like it!


DRAGON CRISIS

Destiny Unraveled

VII

11th of Sun's Dawn, 4E 203

Fate is a strange thing. It often commands and demands sacrifice, understanding, and patience. Shrouded in ambiguity and uncertainty, fate poses a peculiar phenomenon that hardly anyone seems to have a full grasp of. As such, on the 11th of Sun's Dawn, in the year 203 of the Fourth Era, fate put in motion a strange set of occurrences and circumstances that would only later be proven sensical.

For example, in Morthal, or rather a few miles northeast of Morthal, the capital of Hjaalmarch Hold, a group of completely unrelated individuals found themselves stuck in the same kind of bullshit. There was Ziiah, a charming but accursed Redguard half-blood who was being pushed toward something which she didn't quite understand. Next to her, a Khajiit mage calling herself Kaani was following her accursed friend into obvious danger despite not wanting to. Following the two women were two men - nicknamed secretly by Ziiah as Dumb Nyx and Dumber Veilheim - who added to the already obvious danger by being clumsy and completely out of tune with their own weapons, mainly because they were somewhat drunk. Finally, shadowing them like vultures was a strange duo consisting of a bulky Orsimer named Loro Yagg and a lanky Bosmer named Tarhrin. Their collective history would mark this very moment as the day they set in stone their destiny.

"Oh for fuck's sake," Ziiah cried out as she released her arrow at the menacing draugr. "Who brings these things back to life?!"

"No one," Kaani said, shooting a thunderbolt at a group of draugr that suddenly surrounded them. "Draugrs are not reanimated beings, they're cursed."

"Cursed to never sleep?" Veilheim asked, driving a sword through yet another draugr's head. "I almost feel bad for them."

"You should," Kaani said as she drew a diagram on the stone floor which resulted in a faint ring of light surrounding them. "Forced to guard tombs of their overlords, oftentimes for eternity."

Ziiah frowned as she watched the walking dead stand outside the circle. The repelling circle, she realized before glancing back at Kaani. Good thinking. Using the given chance, Ziiah sighed in relief. Meanwhile, Kaani tried to formulate a plan to get them all across the room. Stuck in a narrow hall, the group was entirely surrounded by the undead. As she looked up, Kaani realized that the only way for them to cross the hallway safely was to somehow get to the stone beams above them. That's not going to happen, she thought sarcastically. Instead, she wondered if perhaps they could get there unnoticed. Sneaking could work for a master thief like Ziiah and a Khajiit, she thought before looking at their armored up companions, but two warriors in clinking armor? She then thought of using an invisibility spell. That could do, she thought, but they could still hear us.

"Ziiah," she suddenly asked. "Do you have any muffling potions?"

Ziiah frowned. "No? Why?"

Kaani sighed. "I'm thinking of cloaking us but I'm worried they could still hear us."

"Cloaking?" Veilheim asked. "What's cloaking?"

"Effect of an invisibility spell," Nyx replied.

"How do you know that?" Veilheim asked and Kaani wondered the same.

Nyx shrugged. "Spend enough time with Neloth and you learn a thing or two."

Neloth? Kaani thought in shock. The Telvanni master wizard?!

"I know the muffling spell," Ziiah continued. "I could use it alongside your spell."

Kasni was silent for a moment before shaking her head. Ziiah quirked a brow at her friend.

"We'll need to sync our casts otherwise they'll cancel each other out," Kaani explained after sobering up quickly. "On my mark, then."

Ziiah hesitated but finally nodded, and readied her hand. Counting down slowly, Kaani kept a constant eye on Ziiah before saying 'three' at which both women cast their spell, effectively disappearing. Ziiah resisted the urge to laugh as the draugr looked perplexed - if that was even possible. Passing through the protective circle, the group sneaked their way past the oblivious draugr and toward the other side of the hall. Meanwhile, hiding behind the entrance into the hall were Loro and Tarhrin. Loro was unnerved by the turn of events.

"Shit," he cursed. "How are we supposed to get past them?"

Tarhrin almost scoffed. "Quite an example of a warrior's honor, Harbinger. Here I thought you didn't expect people to do your work for you."

Loro merely rolled his eyes.

"I agree, though," Tarhrin sighed. "This is quite a problem."

"Aren't you a mage?" Loro asked. "Can't you cast the same spell they did?"

"Those are Illusion spells," Tarhrin explained. "While I dabble in Illusion, I'm nowhere near Ziiah's or much less Kaani's level. Alteration is more of my thing."

"There must be something that can keep those things off of us long enough that we reach the other side," Loro said.

Tarhrin frowned as he weighed his options. His magic reserves were sufficient but his abilities are hardly up to par with such a mass. If only it were one or two of them, it wouldn't have been a problem, he thought. Loro also tried to think of a solution that didn't include him dying like a fool. After a short while, Tarhrin almost gasped as a curious thought occurred to him. Loro watched as the weird Bosmer reached for his pouch and pulled out a piece of parchment. Along with it, he also took out a piece of charcoal. With swift precision, Tarhrin started to draw strange symbols on the parchment. Once done, he put the charcoal away and then bit his finger before placing a bloody fingerprint on the parchment.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Loro asked with a hint of disgust.

Tarhrin chuckled. "Improvising."

We're dead, Loro thought as he noticed Tarhrin's lips stretch into a menacing smirk.


Tashhee sat on the edge of the stone pier, watching the emerging sun. Sniffing, she tightened the shawl around her neck before bringing her knees up to her chin and circling her tail around her legs. Bloody Skyrim weather, she thought as she tried to warm up. Resisting the urge to shiver, Tashhee glanced at the horizon again. The sun rays peeked ever so slightly over the Sea of Ghosts, their brightness blinding her. Raising her hand, Tashhee shielded her eyes but still looked at the distant light. One day, she thought, one day, I will leave this wretched place.

"Get your scaly ass back to work, lizard," came a gruff order from one of Tashhee's Nord superiors.

Sighing, she obeyed and got back to work.


Sybil stood atop of her tower, watching over the snow-covered Winterhold. The raven-haired beauty sighed. The College had been closed down for a while. There were no new students, there were no events or classes. Silence had never been more uncomfortable because when all was silent around her, the voices in her head grew louder. She ignored them for a while, believing them to be a symptom of her exhaustion. However, as days passed, she began to hear them more clearly until she could hear nothing else besides them. Eventually, Sybil shunned away all of her colleagues and even her lover out of fear and paranoia.

"To Oblivion with it all," she cursed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

Oblivion awaits you all anyway, said one of the more obnoxious voices in her head.

Sybil rolled her eyes.


Loro watched as a humongous storm atronach rampaged through the angry mob of draugr, leaving nothing but piles of bones and decrepit flesh. The Orc quirked his brow, confused as to how this monstrosity came to appear out of thin air or rather, out of thin sheet of paper?

"Amazing, isn't it?" Tarhrin said after a while, attracting the Harbinger's attention. "Right runes and a bit of blood, one can bypass most rules of magic."

"So," Loro asked, poiting to the atronach, "you summoned that?"

Tarhrin hummed. "Yes and no. I offered a drop of my blood in exchange for that thing being summoned to our world for a short period of time."

"How short?" Loro asked carefully.

In that moment, the rampaging atronach started to shift and contort uncomfortably until it crumbled into a pile of stones.

"Does that answer your question?" Tarhrin said simply, crossing his arms behind his back. "Let's go."

"Go where?" Loro asked.

Tarhrin smirked. "Wherever Ziiah is at."

Loro sighed before following the Bosmer further inside the ancient ruined temple.


"This place is huge," Ziiah said in awe as she stared at the huge cavern over the edge of a cliff.

Her comrades hummed and nodded in agreement. The vast space before them was seemingly infinite. Ziiah glanced downward. She saw a Word Wall at the bottom of the cavern. Even from the distance, she could hear it whispering, calling. Unlike before when she had to be in close proximity to the Wall to hear its soft tune, Ziiah could now feel it resonate throughout the cavern. The rhythm of the Word pulsed through her being but she couldn't quite make out its sound. Guess I'll have to take a closer look.

"Are those skeletons?" Veilheim suddenly asked, pointing to the plateau beneath them.

Kaani hummed in response. "So it seems."

"They're not draugr, though," Veilheim said though it sounded like a question. "They shouldn't be a problem."

"They're still a threat," Kaani said while backing away from the cliff. "Let's go."

Veilheim nodded as he retreated as well, following Kaani. Nyx was about to leave as well until he noticed Ziiah had not moved an inch from where she stood on the edge of the cliff. He approached her and gently touched her shoulder at which she turned around. Her golden orbs met with bluish greys that were his eyes.

"You okay?" he asked honestly.

For a moment, she pondered on a thought. It was a wonderful thought. She imagined how liberating it would be for her to say, I'm okay. Realistically, she was okay. However, after some time, she would recall this very moment and curse herself for saying that she was okay when in fact, she was anything but.

Ziiah nodded in response. "Yeah. We should go, huh?"

Nyx offered a crooked smile before urging her to go before him. Flattered, she took note of his gallant gesture and took the offer. A noble, no doubt, she thought when she took a closer look at his face as she walked past him. A handsome noble, as well, she thought with a smirk on her face. Meanwhile, Nyx noticed that the air around them shifted slightly. He tried not to think about it but he couldn't help but wonder.


"Disgusting!"

The dark purplish bubble popped as the Mad God threw a tantrum. "Simply horrendous!"

"That's a complex word," came a comment, "even for you."

Sheogorath glared at the intruder, not at all amused. "You."

Purple-clad Ahkriin smiled though the smile never reached her eyes. "It's been a while, my Lord."

"Humph," the Mad Gd puffed, looking to the side while crossing his arms.

"Come now," she said softly. "Aren't you a little bit glad to see me?"

Sheogorath was adamant but when she kneeled beside his throne's armrest, he simply couldn't resist. After all, one of his past Him loved her once. Fuck, I'm old.

"I am glad," he admitted through his teeth.

Ahkriin was silent for a moment before she finally reached for his beard-covered cheek. "What troubles you, my Lord?"

Sheogorath frowned at her, gently moving away her hand from his cheek. "I trust you already know the answer to that question."

The whitehaired beauty straightened her posture, positioning herself so that she may appear more curvaceous. "Oh please. If I weren't as rebelious, you wouldn't have noticed me all those years ago."

Sheogorath groaned as he stood up, pacing around his throne room. Ahrkriin was still calm.

"You interfered," he mumbled, adding more loudly, "when I specifically asked you not to."

"You went back on your word," she replied coldly.

Sheograth whirled back, pointing his finger at her. "I kept my promise to a letter."

"As far as I know, dying and alive are two separate terms," Ahrkiin said while standing up. "Opposite, if you want."

"She lives," Sheogorath said more calmly this time. "That's all that matters."

"It won't matter if she won't be able to fulfill her destiny," Ahkriin said while walking toward him.

For a moment, everything went silent in New Sheoth. There was no more laughter, no more inarticulate sounds. There was no cries of terror or gurgling of amorphous creatures laying around. There was just him and her, opposite each other, fighting with no weapons or words. Two pairs of golden eyes stared furiously at each other, neither backing down. Their staring contest was disturbed prematurely by Haskill's arrival, the Chamberlain of the Mad God.

"While I believe you'd much rather go over the millenia of unresolved issues in your relationship," he said as monotonue as ever, "perhaps you should pay attention to the current issue that we're facing?"

Sheogorath sighed before he turned to his aide. "And that would be...?"

Haskill bowed curtly. "My Lord, your guest's presence hasn't gone unnoticed by her host. I suggest you send her back before we suffer consequences."

Sheogorath chuckled. "Call him for what he is Haskill - he's her master."

"Jailor," she corrected him. "Thanks to you, my Lord."

Sheogorath was silent for a moment. "You were unhinged and while I adore that side of you, it was too much even for my standards."

Ahkriin gave him the most sour smile he had ever witnessed on her face. "I did what you refused to do."

"Was unable to do," he clarified. "I'm not a miracle-maker, woman."

"Indeed," Ahkriin said, her voice dreadfully low.

Taking a few steps back, she mocked a bow before walking away. Midway through the throne room, a portal opened up and she stepped through. Sheogorath thought - hoped - that she would look back but she simply disappeared without a single word. Once the portal closed and disappitated, the Mad God sighed in frustration. Damn it all.

"My Lord," Haskill said softly, "I know it is beyond my station to ask this but why are you so different around them?"

Sheogorath chuckled. "Is it that obvious?"

"What could they possibly have that you cannot enjoy someplace else?" Haskill went on.

"My dear ever-sarcastic Haskill," Sheogorath said, reverting back to his usual nonchalant disposition. "They're just a bundle of fun and joy and utter insanity, that family."

"They don't seem insane to me, my Lord," Haskill said flatly.

"Hmm," Shegorath said. "Perhaps I should take out your eyeballs, since you obviously have no use of them."

The Chamberlain offered a curt bow. "I would happy if you could leave them undisturbed, my liege."

Sheogorath smiled. "Good boy. Now, fetch me some entertainment. I need to push out that infuriating woman out of my head. Her voice is so intoxicating that I feel sick."

"The usual then, my Lord?" Haskill asked.

"Yes, yes, off you go," Shegorath said quickly, waving him off.

Ever the servant, Haskill excused himself as he retreated from the throne room. Alone, Shegorath pondered on the words that his aide had spoken. While he had been aware that he gave his favor to perhaps most sane people he had ever the displeasure of meeting, he simply couldn't help himself. It's something I cannot explain, he thought with obvious frustration. It's simply -

And then, it dawned on him. The answer was hilariously simple. What reason would a Mad God have for favoring a sane person?

None for he was the Mad God.

Haskill could hear his master laugh manically.