A/N: This is not the final prologue, and i am working on another version, same sequence of events, just another pov.
Someone was standing at the edge of the Throat of the World, looking out at the setting sun. The person was covered head to toe in black, jagged armor that made it impossible to see their face, and the only bit of color that could be seen, was a bright red cape that flowed in the wind.
The person had been on the mountain since the death of Alduin, a sinking feeling in their heart getting heavier with every day that passed. It had only been a week since that fight, but the wanderer still felt that it was a hollow victory, as they couldn't spend it with their friends and family, who were all still dead from the attack.
"How can I go on like this?" their muffled voice asked, knowing full well that there was no one nearby to hear it. As a sigh blew a mist cloud into the freezing air, the wanderer sat down at the edge of the cliff, wondering whether or not they should jump.
Would they want me to? would they want me to throw my life away just to be with them again?
The thought had crossed their mind many times in the past couple days, but the time between each one quickly became shorter and shorter, as the idea of ending it there became more and more promising. Paarthurnax was dead, Serana was dead, Scout was dead, Blaise was dead, Lydia was dead. Everyone that the wanderer had cared about on Nirn was dead, it was like the divines wanted them to suffer until they just couldn't take it anymore.
The sun had set, and the moons were rising, bright and almost full, mocking the wanderer that sat at the cliff. It was soon to come, if the wanderer didn't make a decision, they would go full wolf the next night, and who knew what the beast would do then.
"My, my, isn't this a sight" a very familiar voice said, breaking the wanderer's thoughts. The armored person looked at who said that, knowing full well who it was.
"Sheogorath…" the wanderer almost growled, it had nothing to do with the prince himself, he just happened to catch them at the wrong moment.
"Ah, so you remember me", the prince almost sounded glad about that.
"What do you want?".
"I am here to tell you, that there could be a way to go 'home'", the wanderer perked at that, it had been some time since they even thought about going home, just accepting that it was just impossible to do so.
"Really now…".
"Yes, though you would have to talk to Hermeaus Mora to get there, tricky one he is".
"Pot calling the kettle black" the wanderer stated, forcing the joke out.
"Will you take the offer? Or will you go with your original plan?".
"It's not like I have anything better to do, I'll go to Solstheim", the armored person hadn't been to Solsthiem since the fall of Miraak, but if going back there meant that they had the chance to go back home, they would do it.
"Splendid, now off you go, you can't keep him waiting forever". With that, Sheogorath disappeared, and the wanderer started their trek down to Windhelm, there they would be able to go back to Solsthiem.
Will this be worth it? Will I be able to go back home again?
—Time Skip—
The wanderer stood at a pedestal, getting ready to open the black book that stood on top. The pedestal sat deep under where the Temple of Miraak once stood, but now it was nothing more than a fancy tomb for the dead draugr and cultists.
"Don't be scared, you have been there before, you will survive" the wanderer tried to reassure them-self, knowing full well what they would expect as soon as they were to open the book. A series of twisted, maze-like libraries that could drive the average person insane if they weren't careful.
Sighing, the armored person picked up the book, opening it to reveal inky tentacles that had pulled them into the plane of oblivion.
—Within Apocrypha—
The wanderer stood in the grounds of the universe's most confusing library, waiting for Haermaus Mora to appear. The deadric prince had a way of appearing that was probably meant to mess with people, due to how it always happened.
After some time, an inky black void of eyeballs and tentacles formed in front of the wanderer, and a deep echoed voice radiated into their ears.
"All seekers of knowledge come to me, sooner or later" the void said, pointing his main eye at the wanderer. "Now, what has the Dragonborn come back to my realm for?".
"I heard from someone that you might be able to lead me home, is that true?".
"Yes, that is true, I can take you home, for a price".
Of course.
"What do you want this time?", the wanderer crossed their arms when they asked that, as the deadric prince had asked something of them when the two first met, and it wasn't pleasant to do.
"I want you to be my eyes and ears in the realm that you call 'Home', bringing me knowledge that I could not get otherwise".
"If it means I can go home, then I will do it".
"Perfect, now hold still, this will only take, a second". Two inky tentacles inched toward the wanderer, one of them grabbed the gauntlet that covered the wanderer's unmarked hand, and took it off, reviling a pale white hand that most likely hadn't seen the sun in a long time. And the other tentacle wrapped around the wanderer's wrist, a horrid pain burned into the spot.
A inky black mark formed on the wrist, one of an eye with four squiggly lines around it, three over the eye, and one below. When the mark was complete, the tentacle let go, and the other one put the gauntlet back on the wanderer's hand.
It didn't take long, but an inky black void overtook the wanderer's vision, though this time, the feeling of magic became less, and less prominent.
I can finally see you again.
—Prologue End—
Thank you for reading this, and please tell me if you if i missed some mistakes(Like grammar and spelling mistakes), i am only one person, and can't catch them all myself. Again, thank you for reading, and have a nice day.