This chapter has been edited due to content. If you want to see the unedited version GO HERE.
JASH
I stood at my full height and unfurled my wings to their fullest extent and let out a howl that could be overheard across the battlefield. The Thalmor that had dared to cross blades with me hesitated for just a moment which allowed me to sever their heads from their necks.
It had taken me awhile to accept my Daedric Prince nature. But now that I had, I wouldn’t change a thing. Especially my hybrid form that was like my armor and I hadn’t fought any battle in this war in any other form.
As a Saxhleel I stood a respectable six feet seven inches tall which meant I towered over others of my kind. When I assumed my hybrid form, I rose to a frightening eight feet. That height didn’t account for my bat-like wings, wolf-like tail, and vampire fangs that could be extended at will.
The Thalmor’s blood shot from their necks to soak in the fur that had replaced my usual scales. I turned to find even more prey in sight. They had decided not to run from the terror in front of them. I let out a laugh that came out as a burst of soft howls from my maw.
As one Thalmor corpse joined the next, I couldn’t help but extend my fangs. If only the battle wasn’t so intense I could have been able to send their souls to the Mountain, my realm of Oblivion.
When a moment of peace came, I flew and then circled the battle so I could have a better idea of the bloodshed underneath me.
On the ground below me my Reforged fought hard against the Thalmor’s forces. The rage they had held in them for so long was finally able to be let loose with reckless abandon. With my training they now rivaled any man in the Imperial Legion.
No, they fought better which is why I had been allowed to use them in the Second Great War against the Thalmor.
Decades ago I had begun to truly loathe the Thalmor after they had nearly destroyed the College of Winterhold in Skyrim. Since that incident there hadn’t been a Thalmor patrol that I had been able to let walk away alive from me.
As various patrols fell to me, I began giving their prisoners a weapon and a chance at escape. If they still drew breath after every Thalmor had died, I would direct them to Sky Haven Temple. That was if they wanted to continue to slaughter Thalmor.
Most went.
Due to the illegal nature of the Reforged, they could only be a nuisance against the Thalmor. It never seemed like enough to any of us but at least we weren’t sitting quietly by as the extremists recovered from the First Great War and readied themselves for the next.
Things changed greatly when High Queen Elisif separated Skyrim from the rest of the Empire. For now the province would be an ally of the Empire but eventually neither would depend on the other. Though if a threat like the Thalmor came again Skyrim would sail to the Empire’s aid.
After Elisif’s decision, I could be publicly connected to the Reforged and my men were instrumental in keeping new Thalmor forces from entering Skyrim.
I dove down with my wings tight against my body. Odahviing and Durnehviir, my dragon allies who had taught me how to truly fly, followed me on either side. The former I had won their allegiance by defeating Alduin while the other’s allegiance had been won by simply giving the gift of returning to Mundus.
Both were loyal to me beyond all reason.
“They flee!” Odahviing yelled and veered to the right. “Nikriinne!”
I smirked. The Thalmor would greatly regret their decision to flee. Even if they survived their retreat they might die before they could reach others of their ilk. Durnehviir scoffed and I chuckled.
My egg-brother could have joined Odahviing but his loyalty to me could not be easily undone. It might be that he hoped that even when I retired to Oblivion that it would still be ours to return to Mundus so that he could fly. Or it could be that he truly valued our friendship for more than the things it offered.
Durnehviir stayed in the sky as I landed on a Thalmor. Well…only one of my feet, now a deadly werewolf paw, grabbed her head so tightly she didn’t have enough time to scream. With my hand that didn’t hold a sword, I sent a fireball into another Thalmor that had run towards me and two of my men.
When two more Thalmor bodies fell, I rolled to dodge more attacks.
Quickly I moved to protect my men. Blood soon followed as well as renewed strength in my men. I couldn’t help but notice one of them look up at Durnehviir and barely hold back a shiver. While my egg-brother was dear to me and had fought for three long years in this war, I could understand the discomfort.
Durnehviir had become a necromancer and found himself trapped in a place that was the most unnerving realm I had ever visited. It was only my voice that allowed him a temporary reprieve from it.
I turned my head as Odahviing yelled in the distance. He was too far away for me to easily hear him.
“Some Thalmor managed to escape!” Durnehviir growled.
“Join him!” I yelled. “Make sure no more escape! And after the battle Odahviing may hunt those that managed to successfully flee!”
Durnehviir moved with the speed of a hatchling as he turned to help Odahviing.
It was another bloody hour until the battle showed any hint of stopping. But even though the sounds had lessened there would still be some time yet until it came to its end.
In this utter sense of calm I was able to spare a glance at Sissel of Rorikstead. The blonde haired dryskin woman was drawing blood with a blade and her skills made her kills effective. At the same time she was using her Restoration magic to heal our men.
Death and life in one tantalizing person.
My consort had begun life as an abused girl living in a small village. She had been abused by both father and sister for a tragedy that had not been her fault. Jouane Manette had given her some training that had been taken to its natural conclusion when she joined the College of Winterhold.
Back when she had been young, I had allowed her to work on my plantation when she wished. We had formed a close bond then. For her it had been a crush and for me it had been a friendship.
But I had never seen her as anything other than just another dryskin until she had reached maturity. It was then that I took note of why others would find her a good lover and recognized the growing feelings of lust in my body whenever I looked at her.
I did not deserve such a kind heart as Sissel had to offer. At least after the war she would be able to give it to someone worthy.
No comments:
Post a Comment