Edited: June 2024
02
The Deadlands are preferable to this place, at least I'd know what to expect.
Dust and mist were swirling around her, making it difficult for her to see even past her boots. She heard a few shouts of terror, but she didn't answer back. Whomever this plane belonged to, it wasn't Sheogorath. Admittedly, it was a strange place; she couldn't tell up from down, or if there was any path. Columns of stone and concrete were floating but it was a desolate zone, there was nothing in it that could be associated with the Mad God.
Talia could see a bright light in the distance, and hoped it was her way out. She had not yet encountered any daedra, but she had a strong feeling she would rather not meet them. As she shuffled towards it, she noticed a prone figure laying face down on the ground. Unsure if it was a hostile person or a potential ally, she drew her dagger before throwing a Restoration spell at it.
A groan was heard from the figure as they stirred. Their glowing hand grasped around for purchase as they attempted to stand. Out of instinct, Talia put up a ward between them.
"Who are you?" she asked, and the person peered at her with groggy eyes before shaking their head.
The figure turned out to be a young bosmer, although she looked different from her elven cousins. The girl was short, painfully thin and fair skinned. Her big, green eyes were wide and soulful as she looked at her. Her red hair was in disarray and strewn across her face, and her forehead was marked with a tattoo of a leafless tree.
The bosmer blinked, and as her eyes focused, she stared at Talia with a mix of shock and—was that fear?
"Calm down," she raised her hands trying to placate the girl.
At her words, the bosmer immediately stumbled away from her, shouting in a strange language.
Talia frowned. A bosmer who didn't know Common? Where did she grow up and why didn't anyone teach her?
Perhaps now was the time to try out the speech spell she'd been working on. It was a mix of Illusion and Alteration, and formed a link between minds, allowing words to flow in a way that could be understood by all parties. It wasn't by any means, perfect, but it was better than nothing. She gathered it in her hand and released it, letting it wash over her and the bosmer.
"Now, let's start that again. Who are you?" Talia said.
The girl squeaked and looked at her warily. "You speak Elvhen?"
Elvhen? "Your name?" she repeated her question instead.
"My name is Talia, First to Keeper Istimaethoriel of the Lavellan Clan," she said in a mix of Aldmeris, Dumeri, and Common. Ah well, the spell clearly still needed some adjustment, but she was glad it seemed to work.
Talia squinted at the reveal of their shared name; it made her suspicious.
"I am Talia Indoril." She had many more questions. What was a Keeper? Was she from Valenwood or Summerset Isles? Or somewhere else entirely? Instead, she asked, "Where are we and how did we get here?"
The bosmer looked at her curiously. "We have the same name?"
Of course that was what she would focus on. "Yes," she answered impatiently. "But I would like to know where we are and how you got here."
"I would like to know what you are first." She raised her chin in an act of bravery, but Talia could only look at her in surprise.
"Have you never met any dunmer before?" That at least ruled out Summerset Isles, there were a fair number of her kind residing there. Still, what place could she possibly be from that didn't have any dunmer?
Lavellan still continued to look at her with a mix of wariness and confusion. "What's a dunmer? You're awfully strange, how do I know you're not a Desire Demon?"
She had no idea what that was, but it was easy enough to guess from its name.
"A Desire Demon? Why? Do I look like everything you've ever wanted in your life?" Talia asked in annoyance.
"I—I suppose not. You could be a rage demon…but I've seen them, and they don't really look anything like you."
Talia rubbed her eyes. "I am not any sort of 'demon'. Though perhaps this discussion can wait until we've determined where we are and how we leave this wretched place."
"Oh, the where is simple enough: we're in the Fade," Lavellan replied.
"The what?" It was Talia's turn to look baffled. She'd never heard any of the Daedric Princes call their realm 'The Fade'. Was it a new term for Namira's realm? The desolate aura would start to make sense.
"The Fade, The Beyond," Lavellan emphasized, as if it would somehow jog Talia's memory.
Talia simply shook her head, having already resigned herself to the fact that she would not understand what was happening at that moment. Perhaps it was Sheogorath's doing.
"Let's figure out how to get ourselves out of here, and maybe we can educate each other afterwards, is that all right?" Talia asked, and without waiting for an answer, she pushed forward, walking in the direction of the light.
"H-hey wait!
The two eventually came across a staircase made of floating chunks of rock, leading upward into the light. With a frown, she tested her weight on the first, ensuring whatever magic was keeping it up would not expire while she ascended.
"Who's that?" Lavellan said. Talia tilted her head up to where she was looking and spied a figure standing at the top of the stairs. It was impossible to tell who it was; the harsh glow cast the person's features in shadow.
"With luck, someone who knows what's going on."
As they began to ascend the steps, screeching sounds pierced the air from behind them, and Talia paused to look at what it was. As the mist cleared, she felt ice pool at the pit of her stomach.
"Spiders! Run!" Lavellan shouted as she rushed up the stairs.
Did this…Fade conform to a person's memory? Because Talia could see no spiders, but numerous crawling corpses. Talia turned and hurried up the stairs before she could identify any more of them.
As they neared the peak, Talia could see an old woman wearing robes and a ceremonial headdress. Behind her, the glow turned out to be some sort of magical phenomenon. The light seemed to bend and twist, as if it were writhing in its place.
Despite Lavellan's headstart, Talia reached the top first. Upon seeing her, the old woman audibly gasped. Talia raised an eyebrow but turned away to blast spells at the dead that followed them, sending firebolt after firebolt at the creatures.
"Do you know a way out?" she asked tersely.
"Sorry? I—I don't understand?"
Talia exasperatedly sent another speech spell her way. She repeated her question as she continued to thin out the horde.
"The—Breach—the tear behind me. I'm not certain but it's the only thing I could think of—,"
"That's more than we had a few moments ago so, I'll—Lavellan!"
At the last step, the elf had tripped, one of the corpses wearing Martin's face grabbed her ankle and she stumbled down. Talia sent an ice spike to his head and Lavellan kicked him away, extending her hand for help. The old woman scrambled to reach for hers, while Talia grasped at Lavellan's other hand to pull her up.
When their palms connected, a burst of pain shot up Talia's arm, and she fell down on her knees at the intensity. Lavellan tried to stand up, but another corpse knocked her down to the ground. As her fingers slipped from Talia's grasp, the pain intensified, and the strange green power sizzled between their hands. The old woman fell forward, unable to support Lavellan's weight.
"Go!" Lavellan shouted at her, as she fought off the corpses pinning her. The old woman attempted to stand, but even in Talia's haze of pain, she could see that the woman had injured her foot. Likely realizing she would not make it, she turned to Talia and said, "Please, you must go."
Talia gritted her teeth against the pain in her hand. She slowly staggered up and moved backwards to the 'tear'. Both their hands still glowed with the same green power, and the last Talia Indoril saw of Talia Lavellan before she crossed the threshold, was her timid smile and determined eyes. She raised her hand and a Firestorm swallowed her and her enemies.
The portal began to close, and Talia felt as if she were being electrocuted. When it was finally shut, the pain decreased to a dull throbbing, and she fell to the ground. Blurry figures of soldiers approached with their swords pointed at her, but she had no strength left in her to fight. The world grew black, and she couldn't help but welcome numbness.
It was like waking from an extremely long nap—one that made you feel more exhausted than rested. Talia became aware of voices speaking, but she couldn't understand what they were saying. The cold seeping through her robes was what she noticed next. She was kneeling on stone, and her legs had lost all semblance of feeling either due to the cold, or her lack of use. A sharp pain in her hand made her gasp and fall forward. One of the guards caught her and pushed her back to her kneeling position.
She wasn't in her battlemage armor, and her daggers were missing. The only thing they left with her was the Mundane Ring, as it was still on her right finger. Presumably, they didn't think much of it. Her hands were bound in shackles in front of her, which allowed her to stare at her glowing green hand in morbid fascination. It was a sickeningly disgusting mark, with lines that crept up her palm and onto her fingers like vines on a wall.
Talia looked up from her scrutiny as the door opened, admitting two women.
The two of them looked Imperial, with one of them red-haired, fair skinned and lovely, while the other had cropped black hair, olive skin and an angry glare. The angry one started circling her and spoke in a language similar to Lavellan's, while Red simply looked at her with a passive expression.
Did nobody speak Common in this place? Talia thought as she subtly cast the speech spell on all three of them.
As quickly as she'd cast her spell, the black-haired warrior had her sword at Talia's neck.
"What was that?" she demanded. "You cast a spell! I felt it!"
Fuck. She was so sure she'd cast silently. Talia assessed her situation quickly before deciding that answering might be the best course of action. "I couldn't understand a word you were saying," she replied softly. "It's just a speech spell."
"That apostate lied," she barked. "You are a mage."
What the fuck was an apostate? Talia was growing more and more bemused, but it seemed this place had a strange aversion to mages. Just her luck. "I'm hardly a mage. It's only one of the few spells I know."
If anything, Talia's response made her even angrier. "You have magic. This means you are a mage. What did you do to the Veil? Was this a part of your plan?" She grabbed Talia's left hand and the dunmer winced at the sharp pain.
"I don't know what this is. Or where it came from." Talia had opted to answer all their questions calmly and steadily. The woman released her in disgust.
"What were you doing at the Conclave?" The redhead spoke for the first time.
"The what?"
"Did you kill the Divine?"
Talia was blinking at the absurdity of the question. "The Divines can't be killed."
The dark-haired woman growled in frustration. "We are getting nowhere with this—,"
"You are a Dark Elf, are you not?" The redhead asked quietly.
"What—Leliana—?"
"Let me ask my questions, Cassandra."
Ah so those were their names. Still, Talia was relieved that at least one of them knew what she was. "I am."
"You said she was a Qunari halfling." Cassandra interrupted again.
It seemed the only word Talia's mind could repeat was, "What?"
"Let me ask my questions, Cassandra," Leliana repeated forcefully. "You are from Skyrim?"
Skyrim? What did that forsaken place have to do with anything?"I lived there for a time. But I'm a resident of Cyrodiil," Talia said.
"What are you doing here in Ferelden?"
"Ferelden?"
"Were you sent here to look for Savith Stormcrown?" Leliana asked a bit more harshly.
"The Hero of Ferelden?" Cassandra asked in surprise.
Talia took a deep breath to calm herself. She had no idea what was happening. The words and terminology they used made no sense to her. She was unsure now if she had the correct calculations for the speech spell.
"My name is Talia Indoril. I don't know where Ferelden is. I don't know who Savith Stormcrown is. I don't know how I got here."
"All I know," she continued. "Is that I was sent to look at an Oblivion portal that opened near Niben Bay in Cyrodiil. I entered the portal, and I ended up in this…strange, green, realm."
Cassandra and Leliana exchanged a look. At this point, Talia decided it best not to mention either Lavellan or the old woman, she might end up being blamed for their deaths.
"I just remember running from…corpses? There was a bright light, I think it was the exit? And there was a woman who reached out to me."
"A woman?" Leliana asked curiously.
"I don't know," Talia lied. "My next memory is of waking up in these chains, with this…thing on my hand." She said in distaste. Whatever it was, it felt malevolent. It seemed to be parasitic in nature, given that it had jumped from Lavellan's hand to hers. And it was leeching off her strength as well.
"Now can someone please tell me what's going on?" Frustration and anger were leaking in her tone. Talia was tired, and extremely confused.
Leliana looked at her impassively for a moment before speaking softly. "I'm afraid you're very far from home."
"What are you talking about?"
"Leliana?" Cassandra looked disturbed as well.
"There will be explanations later. But right now, there are other, more pressing matters. The next wave of demons from the Breach will be coming."
Demons? The Breach?
"That's what we need you for," Cassandra said bluntly.
"If you agree to help us—,"
Talia had to raise both her hands—still chained though—to stop them from speaking. Her mind was already whirling with all the information they were throwing at her.
They clasped her in irons and now they expected her to help them? It was ludicrous, but it was Talia's only option. They could simply execute her, but if she cooperated, it could buy her a few more days to plan a better course of action.
"I need an explanation—a short one," she said quickly when Cassandra growled. "I want to know what exactly I'm agreeing to."
"At the Conclave—,"
"Assume that I know absolutely nothing," Talia said plainly.
"There was a Conclave, a ceasefire between mages and Templars who have been at war for about a year. It was a peace meeting, but there was an explosion, and everybody died…except you," Leliana said.
"There's a very easy answer to that. I wasn't at this Conclave."
Leliana gave her a look before continuing. "After the explosion, the sky ripped open, and the demons rained down upon all of us."
"I'm sorry, did you say that there are demons pouring out of the sky?" Talia reiterated.
"Yes, and we believe this." She held up Talia's pulsing hand. "May be the key to closing it."
Talia stared at Leliana and Cassandra before she laughed in disbelief. She'd thought she was done with closing Oblivion portals but of course she wasn't. Fate wasn't that kind.
Perhaps Sheogorath was involved, if her hysterical laughter was any indication.
"I'm afraid we don't have time. Will you help us close this Breach?"
Talia closed her eyes. She wanted to decline. She wanted to go back—back through the portal and to her strange life as Gray Fox, Listener, Arch-Mage and Guild Master. She wanted to go on a killing spree, and incinerate and eviscerate everyone in her way.
"Very well," she said begrudgingly.
"So you'll help us?" There was a sliver of hope in Cassandra's words, and Talia latched onto it.
"If you agree to explain everything afterward," she said.
Leliana smiled, and although it didn't reach her eyes, it was a start. "Of course." She pulled Talia up.
"Come," Cassandra said. "We must test your mark on something smaller than the Breach." And she all but bodily dragged her out of the dungeons.
How did she always end up in these kinds of situations?
A/N: Thank you so much for all the kind reviews! I hope you enjoy this story as much as I like writing it. Lemme know what you guys think. :-) Questions about Talia's magic, how Lavellan's mark was transferred to her and such will be answered in future chapters.