Evolution, A TES Fan-Fiction Options

[Zalphon]

Prologue

3E 422

My eyes slowly opened to reveal bookcases lined with books, ingredients and trophies. I had fallen asleep in the Common House in the Wolverine Hall. This wasn’t that—it was something entirely different. The fungal walls were lined with book cases holding books, various alchemical substances and trophies.

I slowly forced myself into a standing position. The cold air hit me as soon as I managed to stand. The icy chill only bit into specific parts—it was as if invisible tendrils had a tightening grip on my body. The tendrils felt much more real when I tried to move my arms. They were completely immobilized by this abnormal cold.

A Dunmer garbed in flowing, ebon robes materialized out of thin air. Four others instantly appeared as well. The Dunmer stated with his raspy voice, “I am Lord Sarthon Kirth and you are in Tel Kirth.” My eyes widened slightly—Tel designated that I was in a Telvanni Tower.

“Bray-Hul demands to know why she is away from her master,” the Argonian questioned. My eyes took a quick glance to notice Bray-Hul was a relatively thin. Her tattered shirt hung off her as if she was only a skeleton and her pants were almost as loose.

“If I may explain,” Kirth responded. “You five are people no one will miss. You’re slaves, outlaws and paupers. This is why you have all been blessed with an opportunity to become Telvanni Wizards.”

The Nord to my right was a young man with shoulder-length blonde hair. He was breathing heavily and his face was flushed. “You damn dark elves are cowards,” the man blurted. “I’ll snap your spine like a skeever.” Sarthon shook his head and extended his open hand. He whispered something and out of his hand shot a bright chartreuse orb that slammed into the young man.

The Nord’s screams were sharp. I watched as the orb burrowed into his chest, dissolving his body as it went. As the screams continued, we all stood in silence as a puddle of viscera slowly formed at his feet. His entire body was eventually liquefied by the spell and then it just—disappeared.

“I do not appreciate threats,” the Wizard continued emotionlessly. “And you all need to learn the rules of what is going to occur over the next twenty-four hours. You’re going to be sent to the Canals beneath Vivec where you four will either kill each other or all die.”

“What—what are you talking about?” the Altmer Girl to my left said. “We…have to kill…each other?” Her voice was cracking as she struggled to say the words.

“You will all wear chokers. They are linked by your life force; if even two of you still live after twenty-four hours, then you’ll all be killed. If only one survives, you’ll be teleported back here and will gain the privilege of studying magic under me.”

What was the point of this game? What was he gaining out of this other than several corpses in the canals beneath Vivec? The Dunmer muttered under his breath and a black-metal collar appeared around my throat. One appeared around all of our throats. What was this thing?

There was a blinding flash of light and when I could see again, the world around me had changed. The bookshelves and walls had changed to a gargantuan metal pipe. In the center was a river slowly moving to its destination. Rats scurried around on the metal side-walks of the large pipe.

With a sigh, I knelt down and looked around for a tool to use in this fight. A skeleton with a steel stiletto between its ribs lay there peacefully. Next to it was a half-empty bottle with a label that was so old that it became too faded to read. And beside the bottle was a note that shared the same fate as the label. My hand firmly gripped the blade. The hunt had just began…

[Zalphon]

Chapter One: The Beauty of Death - Part II

Thanryn grabbed the corpse’s wrists and quickly dragged him out of the bed to the canal. With each step of the Dunmer’s, the trail of blood grew longer. After the corpse was right next to the canal, it was kicked in.

“Why did you do that?” I blurted. “He should be buried at least.”

The Mer did nothing, but motion for me to come closer. After I let out a weak sigh, I took a few steps closer and watched. The slaughterfish were ripping away chunks of flesh from his opened body. “Watch,” he whispered softly. “Through his death, they will live. In a way, he is giving back to the world which he took from to survive.”

I wanted to speak, but something told me not to. It was a different way of looking at things, but in its own way—it was serene. He was right; the Imperial was indeed giving back to the living creatures of Nirn. But such ways were so odd.

With another breath, he walked back into the room. There was a look of determination about him, as if he was looking for one specific thing. But what was it? When I looked back, he was pulling the books out and gently setting them down.

“What’re you looking for?”

Thanryn’s thin lips curled into a small grin as he reached in an arm’s length—likely he had found a hollow hiding spot. As his arm reached out, I noticed that his long fingers held a necklace of some sort. The black-metal chain was connected to a small face. Half of it matched the rest, but the other half was bright gold.

“What is that?”

“It is a rosary,” he explained. “The face is that of Lord Vivec, so that he may always see and guide my actions.” The tone in his voice was one of pride. As if following Vivec was something to be proud of.

“Come on,” I mumbled. “We need to find the other two.” He didn’t say anything, but I sensed by the frown that there was some disappointment. I just didn’t see the point in devoting one’s life to a god. I give prayer when I feel it right, because I feel it right—not because of some obligation.

I don’t know how much time passed as we trekked through the canals. Few things made any of the canals any different than any other. Occasionally some graffiti would be painted on in blood, but seldom was there anything interesting. As I took a step into another room, I found the Altmer Girl sitting against a wall farthest from the door.

She didn’t move much when she looked up at me. Her breathing was slow and labored and I could see that she wouldn’t live long. “What happened?” I questioned as I stepped closer. I noticed she was nursing her side and the entire left side of her blouse was drenched in blood.

“The Imperial,” she looked up at me with peaceful eyes. “He took a stab at my waist with his dirk.”

Thanryn’s interrupted me before I could speak, “He was—armed?” If the Argonian could do that against an armed man in good physical condition, what could she do against us? I had never been in a knife-fight and this man was an old pauper.

“Y-yes,” she coughed into her hand. “He am-ambushed me when I came in here.” The deep-red liquid truly contrasted to her bright yellow skin. This woman wasn’t going to live much longer. This was wrong. But this was Lord Kirth’s game.

I held the stiletto’s handle so tightly that my knuckles turned almost white. For what seemed like an eternity, I waited for her to close her eyes. She yawned and with that, I slid the dagger between her ribs—directly into her heart. For a moment, she got to look at me. It wasn’t a look of scorn, but of placid acceptance.

When the dagger slowly came out, it dripped with her blood. Then she simply fell to her side. Thanryn was screaming at me, but it’s as if his words went in one ear and out the other. All I could think about was what I had just done. What had I just done? I had taken her life. This wasn’t like how I pictured killing—I imagined it to be just a part of everyday life, not something so...gruesome.

The harsh sting of Broodikus’ slap pulled my mind away from her. And my fingers just let the blade go. “Why?” he asked through gritted teeth. “Why did you do it?” His eyes were completely focused on me.

I wanted to tell him I did it for her. I wanted to tell him, but the words just wouldn’t form in my mouth. My eyes moved from him back to her and I uttered at nothing more than a whisper’s volume, “What have I done?”

He looked down at her, “May you find peace in death, Altmer.” His hands grabbed her and dragged her to the canal. As I watched the slaughterfish go into a feeding-frenzy, all I could see in my mind was that look she gave me. There was no anger, but almost thanks. But that didn’t change how I felt. I felt like a monster—and maybe I was.