Dovahkiin || Skyrim Fanfiction

Prologue || Dovahkiin

This tale truly begins in a place beyond places, but since no words exist in that place, few can be used to describe it, and all in negative terms. It was not a land, nor an ocean, nor was it air or fire, or a desert, or a volcano. It was, in a sense, not anything at all, yet someone was there; more that one someone, in fact. Those who hear this story must, I fear, forgive such poor descriptions as these, but in any case, it is not with those surroundings that the story is concerned, but with the beings, who, for the moment, were holding conference there.

Those beings were nine in number, and were, at least, not so difficult to describe as the place where they had chosen to speak. Three resembled men, with long hair and beards. One was like them, but without a mustache. The fifth of their group was taller than the first four, but his hair was much shorter, and his beard little more than a goatee, making him seem, in some ways, smaller. The sixth was a woman with short hair, covered, in any case, by a reverent hood. The next two were also women; one with thick hair that spread out over her shoulders and back, and one whose beautiful hair was more conventional, smooth and unobtrusive. Still, they were all normal-looking by comparison to their leader; a mighty, golden dragon who spoke to his fellows sadly.

"Tragedies are no new thing, to us, or to the world of men and mer." the dragon said sadly, "As we always do in such circumstances, however, something must be done."

"This is to do with that petty usurper, I suppose." the tall man with the goatee observed, at which point the dragon merely nodded, tilting his head slightly before he continued.

"His actions cannot be ignored. Too many are dying. I asked for your help, to bring forth a new chosen one; that one mortal in a billion who can face the odds and succeed; tear down kings, build up empires, and crush evil. This method has often done much good in the past, and I feel..."

However, for the first time in a thousand years, a voice from among that group spoke up, interrupting their leader with a calm determination that had rarely asserted itself so strongly.

"No."

All eyes turned to the source of that voice; the being who resembled a man with a beard, but no mustache. However, his own eyes were not fixed on the dragon at all, and this was not out of fear, but because the person who had spoken was deep in thought, looking downward into the emptiness as he spoke.

"Julianos..." the dragon remarked, "You have some thoughts on this subject?"

"I cannot reconcile it anymore." Julianos said after spending a few more seconds in thought, "This business of choosing a mortal to do the work of saving the world... Is there no alternative?"

"Why should we seek one?" the dragon asked, "Has it not been a success in the past?"

"The success or failure of this method is not in question." Julianos replied, "What concerns me is the method itself. When we make our choice, the mortal saves their world, and all is preserved, but in exchange, that mortal's fate slips beyond their control. Their freedom is lost."

"A mortal living under our blessings has greater control over their fate, not less." the dragon replied, "They have every chance that they would have had without them, and more besides..."

"There is one chance they lack." Julianos pointed out at once, however, having thought the matter through thoroughly, "They lack the chance to fail, and to be imperfect; to make mistakes and differ from our plan. They can no longer choose a less than dynamic life. Do you not see the problem with this? Should we sacrifice a mortal's life in this way, to save the world?"

"Are you suggesting to me that my blessings should go to someone other than the chosen one?" the woman with the thick hair, whose name was Dibella, asked, "Why would the chosen one not want the blessings of beauty?"

"I can think of a hundred reasons." Julianos replied without skipping a beat, however, "Suppose they have been tortured by someone who was beautiful, and come to see beauty as ugliness? They might be in love with someone who values their character, and would merely be distracted by beauty. They might fear that beauty would attract the attention of lustful adulterers... There are a host of reasons for not desiring beauty."

"Fascinating" one of the long-bearded men replied, "I have always considered our blessings to be a mercy, and yet, are you implying that they might be a curse as well?"

"I am implying that our blessings should not be so heavy-handed, Stendarr." Julianos explained, "Perhaps we could merely give a smaller gift to each of a dozen people, and allow them the chance to overcome the odds, or to fail in their own way. I would consider that a far wiser course."

Dibella looked rather upset over having been rebutted so quickly and easily, but she didn't attempt to reply again, merely looking down into the nothingness, as though making some plans of her own. That, however, was when the dragon spoke again, wearing an amused smile on his face, for the first time in centuries.

"Your idea has creativity and merit, Julianos, but most importantly, there is time to set it in motion, and still resort to the old plan, should it fail. You will have my cooperation in this."

Julianos was relieved that his words had been so well-received, as one after another, his companions began offering their agreement; the strongest support coming from Talos and Zenithar. Still, he knew that there were risks in such a course of action. After all, according to the old plan, one person had been given the blessing of victory, and was given a chance to succeed; a chance that usually; no one had. If his idea worked out, then even the nine of them wouldn't know to whom their blessing had gone, which meant that the greatest warriors might find themselves on the end of a pike. On the other hand, it also meant that anyone might be a hero... even the grocer down the street...

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Thanks for reading. I'm working a bit hard on it. Maybe a little too hard, but it's fun. =)