Dancing Strings of Fate

4E 160, Hew's Bane, Hew's Mane Inn. One week after Urezur won against the Khajiit, Ma'urabi the Scum. Becoming the youngest Ranker in Hew's Bane's Arena.

As a ranker, his cell was transferred to a much bigger and much cleaner Cell.

Strangely, when he took out the Young Snow Wolf, who he decided to call Lunaris after knowing that it was female, the deformed woman and the Nord Man weren't present in their cell.

In fact, when he checked the stone bed of the deformed woman and the cell of the Nord man, he never noticed that everything was always spotlessly clean.

Frowning slightly as a small bad feeling grew in his heart, he shook his head as he left with Lunaris following behind him, waving her tail.

As determination replaced the bad feeling, he walked to his third match along Lunaris.

Feeling the hot sands of the Arena between his feet finger, the arid penetrating his green skin, the scent of lingering death as probably millions already died there, Urezur smiled widely. Lunaris just glanced at him as if he was the weirdest weirdo in the world.

Fully appearing in the Arena, the public shouted in enthusiasm.

"Urezur!" "Urezur!!" "Urezur!!!"

Opening his arms wide, Urezur closed his eyes as his name was shouted louder and louder.

"... Can you feel it, Lunaris?" Urezur asked his companion, making Lunaris roll her eyes in exasperation.

"... This is our new home... This is our place to become better... Faster... Stronger than anyone..." He said to Lunaris but she also felt as if he was saying it to himself.

Ayred, who watched both of them, smiled widely as he calmly massaged the nearby masked woman's left buttock.

Slapping hard as always, the public quieted down as their glared at the beautiful face of Ayred.

"Ladies and Gentleman!! Look at them! Urezur Hardwood and his little puppy!! By Auri-El, aren't they so cute, so young, so... small!?" He shouted in 'worry'.

"But, I can't be unfair..." He said as he wiped a fake tear as a smirk appeared soon after.

"Since they're fighting as two, we can't allow a two versus one, do we?" Laughing, he continued.

"Practicing the most hated magic school in the world, a strange-looking mustache that everyone hates, and bloody annoying smell, our least favorite necromancer, Rank. 6069 Asmos the scorned!!"

Opening a gate, a Breton slowly walked up.

With a mustache that in another time period would be the most macho mustache, he glared at Urezur.

Looking at the weird-looking necromancer, Urezur resisted the urge to smile in ridicule and glared in concentration.

His survival instincts were screaming. Something was up. Something very wrong was up.

Bored, Ayred shouted, "... Let this begin already."

Since the beginning, Urezur found it strange that the necromancer didn't enter the Arena with any summoning.

Confusion flashed in his eyes before his eyes widened.

"You seem to misunderstand the situation, young orc." The Necromancer said with venom in his voice.

"Looking at you confused, you seem to think that I'm alone." he continued as his right foot tapped the hot sand.

Various types of bones slowly penetrated the sands as they formed a bone throne under him.

Bored, he sat on the throne as he said, "This Arena... is not only a gigantic mana fountain for people like me thanks to the spell Transmutation... it's also an infinite amount of-..."

Before he could finish, a green-skinned fist was about to connect his forehead when it stopped midway.

5 giants walls made of pure bones stopped

"You should listen to your elders, young man." The necromancer's voice sounded from behind the walls as his mustache danced beautifully in the arid air.

"..." Urezur glared at the wall before saying, "You speak way too much, old man."

Seeing the wall regenerate the damage he did, Urezur frowned deeply.

Gritting his teeth as his eyes flashed red, his other fist made a small sound barrier break as it impacted the first bone wall.

Like paper, it shattered in pieces as the fist continued its path.

The second, the third... the fourth.

Every wall it touched, they shattered like glass windows.

The public gasped as they knew how ridiculously powerful necromancers become when they are with so many corpses around and extinguished life forces.

They thought this would be the end for the Necromancer but they saw that the Necromancer didn't even flinch or panic.

in fact, a cruel smile appeared on his face.

He studied the young orc for days.

From the first day to the last day.

Remembering the information that he received days ago, his eyes narrowed.

Weak mentally. Broke down puking on his first day. Cried for mommy as well.

'... In the end, children will be children... Always crying and shouting in despair...' He thought as he remembered other children.

Children he killed or children his colleagues killed.

Remembering how even after death, their souls cried as he transformed them into zombies or walking skeletons, a warm feeling enveloped his dark heart.

'... Is this how happiness feels?... I like it.' The necromancer thought as he closed his eyes in bliss.

of course, he didn't care about Urezur. Because as soon as the 4th wall was destroyed, the 5 walls made his fist stop.

Not because it was so hard it could stop his ridiculous strong punch.

In fact, not only it stopped his fist, it made Urezur's eyes wide in surprise.

Faces. The wall was made of thousands of female orc skeleton faces.

As Urezur was building his fate in the hot sands of Hew's Bane, the world of Nirn wasn't as peaceful.

...

4E 160, Skyrim, Windhelm, outside Candlehearth Hall Inn.

Three 13 years old children were playing with wooden swords.

"I'm going to protect Empire from the Thalmor!!" One of them shouted with extreme vigor as he raised his wooden sword toward the sky.

Raising both of their wooden swords, the other two shouted as well, "We're going to protect the Empire!!"

Bursting out of the Inn, a blonde little girl shouted to the trio, "Ulfric! Galmar!! Rikke!!! Breakfast is ready!!"

Laughing loudly, they rushed to the Inn. "We're coming! Elda."

Inside Windhelm Palace, Throne Hall.

A man with a glorious beard, black hair, a bear cape, and sculpted muscles, was sitting on the throne as he said to the man in front of him.

"As per the agreement and as the Blue Palace already decided, Skyrim and Windhelm will be on the Empire's side in the upcoming war... Captain Tullius."

Nodding, Tullius said smiling, "I was sent here just to be completely sure. Thank you for your cooperation."

"No need to thank us... The Empire's fate is Skyrim's fate."

...

4E 160, Skyrim, Falkreath.

A small Altmer kid was running with an apple in his mouth.

With torn clothes, she ran like wind as shouts came from behind her.

"That little devil! Damn thief!!!" "Get her!!" Stop! You violated the law. Pay the court a fine or serve your sentence!!"

Laughing, the kid continued to run but, as if destiny was playing with her, she stopped in front of a statue.

Akatosh Statue.

...

4E 160, Summerset isles, Capital Alinor. 1 Month after Urezur's arrival at Hew's Bane.

It's been a hundred and forty years since the Thalmor, a radical and xenophobic political movement that espoused the absolute supremacy of Elves over all other Tamrielic people, took control of the Homeland of the Altmer as they overthrew the old monarchy of Alinor and established Third Aldmeri Dominion.

As small Altmer children played as Thalmor soldiers winning against evil Empire minions, inside the Golden Gryphon, an Inn near the gates of the city and the only place where Mercenaries or private soldiers could find work, a hefty discussion was taking place.

A group of people was in front of a request post.

"Thalmor Army Recruitment:

Requirements:

- Adept-level on any kind of weapon. Physical or Magical.

- Ready to accept the Oath of Acceptance from a Thalmor Justiciar."

Everyone in the group had a very stiffy and frowning face.

After all, this request was akin to total slavery and canon fodder for war.

But, they can't do anything about it.

Since the Thalmor took control of the Aldmeri Dominion, any race that wasn't Altmer and was present on its territory couldn't just leave.

The weak were forced to minor labor and the strong to hard work along with taking 'annoying' enemies of the Dominion.

Although they understood it, they also found a worrisome fact.

War is coming.

Not only was this Recruitment suspicious but also the Thalmor were making huge moves like moving gigantic amounts of personnel all over the borders of the Dominion.

And they all knew who they were going against.

The Empire. The only truly worthy enemy of the Thalmor.

"... Looks like this is it." One of them said. An old Dark Elf that lived long enough to have seen the time when Summerset Isles Capital was the most peaceful elven city.

He said that because it was either die in the frontlines as canon fodder or die protesting.

As the Inn started to become messy and loud, the bartender, fully cloaked, with only the bottom of her face showing, slapped the counter loudly with her only arm, and she shouted, "Enough! You damn lousy bastards!!"

Hearing her shout like that, everyone stayed silent.

After all, they knew who she was and what happened one month ago when she was placed as a bartender there.

Fortunately, she wasn't under an Oath of Acceptance from the Thalmor anymore.

Looking at the deformed and burned green skin on her only arm, her right arm, they only knew that she arrived at the City imprisoned by the Thalmor, extremely injured, almost burned to death.

"If anyone of dare says anything wrong about the Dominion, you better be ready to die."

As everyone closed their mouth in fear, they slowly left their room.

Under the cloaks, a beautiful female orcish face was gritting her teeth in hatred and pain.

That was all she could feel.

All she could remember since she woke up one month ago.

Hatred for two names that stayed in her mind, no matter how much time or how much she wanted to forget.

"... Hardwood... Stros M'kay..." She said as veins pulsated hard on her forehead.