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Skyrim: A Sorcerer's Tale

A bitter old man gets tossed into the world of Tamriel, as a descendant of a religious madman no less, watch as he delves into the secrets of magic and explores the wonders of this danger-filled world, and with luck and a lot of magic juice possibly even beyond. This is my first attempt at writing a fanfic (or anything for that matter). English is not my native language but I think there shouldn't be too many mistakes. The story will focus on magic and exploration with most likely a bit of romance later on. The upload schedule won't be rigid, but expect five chapters a week. If you want to support me financially and get access to early chapters visit patreon.com/Rastislav156

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Chapter LV: Shaking Oblivion

(General POV)

Within the unknowable realm of Oblivion an upset not seen since the breaking of Jyggalag shook the usually unaffable Daedric Princes. The ancient beings observed an event yet unseen within this Kalpa, a mortal directly harming a Daedra.

A couple of them instinctually checked on their own fragments on Nirn but quickly discarded the idea of withdrawing them to safety. A bit of risk only added to the fun after all.

Within a sickly green forest of books, a mass of eyes and tentacles made a sound akin to a slurp of the tongue as it observed the deed being performed "Interesting" Plans already moved within the creature's ancient mind on how to tempt the interesting mortal without risking its own resources. The woodland man cared only for knowledge, not for thrills.

A creature whose whole being screamed the word "Ugly" looked upon the descendant of pariahs defying those who would disdain him and gave the scene an appreciative nod before returning to watching his own children, a contemplative glint in his eyes as he considered challenging Hircine to a fight over the mighty Orc he had managed to snag.

Within a burning realm, the many armed destroyer gazed upon the act of revolution and smiled with glee.

A city resembling that of White Gold stood covered in pale blue flames, slaves suffering under the vile ministrations of the Dremora all across its ravaged surface. Within the great tower and upon a spiked throne sat a figure so imposing the term may as well have been invented for describing them. The horned giant observed the ongoing events with ever growing satisfaction and as he saw a great blow being struck against his bitch of an enemy he practically growled in excitement.

"Worm." Molag Bal intoned commandingly.

The hundreds of debauched giants within his chambers immediately bowed as low as they could.

"I want every pitiful creature under me prepared for conquest immediately." The Daedric Prince of domination's smile was all teeth "I have a bitch to punish for her defiance."

As was his usual want, Sheogorath stood before his cheese store in Solitude's newly rebuilt sprawl and gazed northwest. The mad god was momentarily replaced with the Hero of Kvatch who smirked in appreciation of what was happening, only for the mad one to reassert himself within a moment and start chasing those damn annoying butterflies again, the sight of divine defiance already forgotten.

And finally, within a vast garden of such beauty, it would blind all those unprepared, sat a trio of grey-skinned Daedra wearing female forms, all of them quietly enjoying tea while they watched the event unfold.

One wore a wreath of flowers upon her head and was the epitome of motherly beauty, she watched her child attaining revenge with an impassive gaze, her thoughts hidden from both her counterparts.

The second, one clothed in what seemed to be a chitinous carapace, carried a much more seductive look than her counterpart, her oddly alien choice of exterior only adding to her exotic beauty. She beheld her chosen's action with unhidden glee bordering on ecstasy, a quiet giggle of pure satisfaction leaving her every moment or two.

The final third of the Tribunal stood perfectly straight, a scarred face carried a vicious smirk as she beheld a mortal overthrowing a god for but a moment. "How disgusting it is that you have already snagged this one." Boethiah sent her spidery counterpart a scathing look.

Mephala giggled into her hand, each movement meant to misdirect and manipulate "Oh I simply gazed upon him at the right time."

The warrior shook her head before outright scowling as she saw the target of their observation choose to release a pitiful soul instead of binding a mighty artifact to himself "It would seem he is a weakling, I retract my earlier disgust."

Even Azura was tempted to roll her eyes at Boethiah's words, a temptation that Mephala did not care to suppress "What a shame, dear Boethiah. He is such a wonderful little mortal yet he is very unlikely to ever seek you out himself."

Boethiah gave her counterpart an odd look "He might not fit all of my domains but there are enough that he has rather high affinity with me." 

Mephala suppresses a laugh before shaking her head "Oh no, that is not the issue."

"Then what is it?" Boethiah near growled at Mephala's coyness.

"Is it the Malakath bit?" Azura piped in, the amusement in her eyes barely hidden.

"it is the Malakath bit." Mephala nodded sagely.

"Fucking mortals." Boethiah looked away with a huff.

"I know right?" Sheogorath asked the air around him before returning to his workplace in confusion.

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(Reyvin's POV)

I do not know how long I sat atop the ruined temple in complete silence but by the time I the Daedra finally stopped staring at me night was already well on its way and I practically halved my supply of cigars.

"Come on then" I voice aloud, shaking my two servants from their bored stupor "Might as well get back to the city."

Davos tilts his head "You aren't gonna just" He snaps his fingers.

I shake my head "No, I think that a bit more fresh air will do me rather nicely."

"As you wish." He simply rolls with it "We did bring an extra horse for you."

"My thanks Davos." My voice retains its current emotionless tinge as I start walking down.

(Davos' POV)

Lord Dagoth walks down without even waiting for the two of us, we both shake our stiffened limbs before moving to follow him.

"Madmer can't even celebrate kicking a Daedra's shit in." I mumble "Fuck this world."

Nightshade tilts her head in a way that I may have called adorable if not for the shitty mood I was in and asks "Will the master be fine?"

I shrug with a sigh "I don't know honestly. Kid has been behaving like he is both older and younger than he really is at times, I don't have the faintest idea how he is going to react to this."

The Falmer thinks my words over before nodding resolutely "Then we must make sure he remains in good health."

"Yeah." I agree immediately, though with a bit less open enthusiasm. Kid may be bloody insane and has a cruel streak large enough to make a sociopath blush but wherever he goes our people prosper and no way in Oblivion am I about to allow that to be ruined. Not even by a god.

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(Reyvin's POV)

Our welcome to Solitude was incredibly quiet and stiff. The entire city was placed under martial law in an attempt to catch the fleeing rebels but their escape had probably been planned out for a long time and the Thalmor and Dragon Cult insurgents definitely did not help the situation at all.

The guards at the gates took one good look at us and called someone over, moments later I saw Bor standing atop the battlements and quickly nodding upon seeing me. The gates opened moments later, letting us in.

The male twin of the Flame-hearts wore full legionary regalia and merely gave me a nod of greeting as I passed. It seemed that he and his sister were under great scrutiny due to being from a Dawnstar clan and he had to uphold discipline to the max.

It is a damn shame I had to agree with the precaution despite my friendship with them.

Time passed in a blink and we found ourselves before the entrance to the throne room, the door was already wide open and the sight within was a dour one. Many of the nobles and housecarls were at least lightly wounded and blood dripped onto the floor despite the skillful banding applied to them. Falk Firebeard even lacked his right eye.

Without a word I levitated a potion to the old Steward and without even looking at what it was the man chugged it down instantly, something he regretted immediately as his face started to itch something fierce.

As I approached the throne, Scorch appeared upon my shoulder and jumped off landing from one head to another and casting restoration magic with disdainful ease. The surprised yelps quickly died down after the first victim showed the others their now healed arm.

"Help around the city when you finish here." I tell him.

"Sure thing pops!"

Finally I stand before the throne, the tired King meeting my gaze "Torygg." I greet him.

"Reyvin." He returns simply "What happened?"

I stare at him for a while, my desire to speak on the subject evident but he does not relent so I let out a tired sigh "Meridia" I practically scowl at the name "Decided that the declaration of rebellion would be the perfect moment to 'punish' Sybille and myself for our defiance, she managed to do one of those things."

The king looks at the floor, his right arm shaking. Sybille was one of the people that practically raised him since childhood, even if deep down he knew her to be a vampire, the royal house of Solitude was not made up of idiots after all.

He raises his head and his eyes meet mine with a resolution forged of duty "And what did you do afterwards?"

My eyes must have glowed because both Torygg and his bodyguard flinched lightly as their eyes adjusted "Since she decided that she had the right to punish me, I decided to return the act in kind."

Torygg looks at me like I just made a joke before his face twists into what I would generously describe as a constipated expression "You are not joking are you?"

Without any further explanation I pull out my new sword and hold it in front of me "Let us just say that Dawnbreaker is no more, and what was once hers is now mine... permanently."

"You..." He trails off before gathering himself "You usurped a Daedra?" He questions with utter incredulity.

Instead of answering I snap my fingers and the three eyes beetle crest on my cloak and shoulders suddenly finds itself accompanied by an ornate blade "Even immortals die, even the gods know defeat." I intone with some bitterness.

I hear the sound of heavy boots behind me and turn to see Rikke in full battle armor "Dagoth" She greets with a smirk but her outward expression fails to hide the the hurt at losing her lifelong friend that lie beneath.

"Legate" I barely incline my head "I trust that you have already begun preparations to crush the rebels?"

Torygg sighs "No, we have to wait for them to start moving first otherwise I would just appear a tyrant to all the eyes beyond Skyrim."

I scoff loudly, drawing eyes from a lot of those present but they fail to hear what I say next "Just have forgeries of scouting reports made, I have no doubt that the rebels are already prepared within hidden camps and you wasting your time while they raid and plunder is not acceptable."

He thinks it over for all of a singular moment before nodding and looking at Rikke "See to it Legate."

"At once your majesty." She bows and leaves.

Torygg winces as a thought passes through his mind but seemingly forces himself to voice it "I... I will need a court mage, especially in these trying times."

"Thank all of your gods that humiliating Meridia was as satisfying as it was." I practically growl.

Bolgeir raises an eyebrow at my declaration but turns away the moment Torygg raises his hand placatingly "I know my request is... uncouth." He settles on the word "But the realm is in chaos and someone of your skill and power is needed."

I slowly palm my face while taking a long breath "The war won't be our only problem and I will probably have to place most of my focus upon the upcoming threats."

"You spoke of this before." He nods "I only need your advice from time to time and your aid in greater operations, otherwise you can do whatever you feel is wise." His eyebrows crease "But Reyvin, what threats are you precisely talking about here?"

My smile might have melted snow if it weren't for the manic look in my eyes "Ever hear of the prophesy of Alduin's return?"

His face pales as his pupils constrict. Wait a moment, is that a grey hair?

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Those Daedra do be throwing stones in those glass houses of theirs.

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