The Return of Sithis, Volume 1: Awakening

"Such a charming Imperial. You remind me so much of the others who came from Cyrodiil, always whining about the cold and the Nordic way of life. Welcome to Skyrim," she said as she shot the Familiar, banishing it. Lorelei's accent revealed that she was a Nord, and took offense to the man's comments, and his attitude in general.

"And I'm only interested in talking about how you're going to make up for letting that group of elk get away. I had been tracking them all day. How am I supposed to pay my rent if I can't hunt?"

"You could, um, uh, adventure? Loot? You look, quite, um, capable." Avenicci stuttered nervously as Dorian rolled his eyes. "If you're up to it, you could do some mercenary work. I, uhh, have some leads and, here!"

Avenicci awkwardly tossed a small silver ring to the huntress only to accidentally hit her in the face. 

"Sorry..." He whimpered quietly but she probably couldn't hear him. 

Siegemund glanced at the sun. It was near nightfall he gathered.
The recollection of Hermaeus rung through his head almost like yesterday.
"... I guess I should do as he says." He muttered and made his way to the front.

"Awake are we?" Nephle asked. Siegemund fumbled with his torn Shirt (didn't know spell check added a curse word)awkwardly, "well, uh... I spoke to Harmaeus Mora, a Daedra prince."
He chuckled. He jumped back as Nephle grabbed the upper hem of his shirt.

"And you made a deal with him?! Well I guess it givese something to do, starting an open road business." She replied wryly.
Siegemund gently removed her fingers from his already torn shirt.
"Skyrim, Home of the Nords. He also promised me my past." He explained.

Nephle looked into his eyes intensly before she sighed.
"What mission did he give you? I'm not even going to try and stop a Nord.
Kyne forbid their determination." She said.

"Kill Sithis." Siegemund answered, looking into her eyes.

The sound of a body hitting the floor was her response.

She fainted... Wonderful.

"I guess I could do that..." Avenicci pondered a bit as he turned to face Dorian whom had visible palm marks on his forehead. "Should I?"

"Of course." Dorian replied with a sigh as he whispered in his master's ear. "I was hoping you had grown past this stage. Afraid of women? Seriously? You sound like a character from one of those Akaviri stories about people with weird hair and weird magic and weird names."

"I'm not afraid!" Avenicci objected loudly as he jumped. "They're just odd and, feminine. Too squishy."

"This one isn't, and by Septim, you're the squishy one!" Dorian flared up at his failure of a master before returning to his normal demeanor. "Talk to her."

"Fine." Avenicci responded with a little spite as he walked back to the huntress. "I could just bring you the gold, but couldn't you just make a fortune off of enchanting services? That armor too, it's strange. I've seen something like it, back in Skingrad. It's blue malachite, isn't it? That stuff isn't natural."

"Are you really sure?" Avenicci asked with a hint of irritation. "I probably have enough net worth to be able to buy several houses. It's no problem to give you money. I don't hunt, but what I do have is a very particular set of skills; skills that I have acquired over a very long career. Skills that make me a blessing for people like you. If you let me give you gold, that will be the end of it. I will not look for you; I will not pursue you, but if you don't, I will look for you. I will find you, and I will pay you back."

Avenicci paced behind her as he ranted and stealthily pickpocketed the ring he had given her only to show it off after he had finished. 

"I think you might realize what I can do."

Lorelei laughed in his face, and then stood up as straight as she could, looking very threatening. "What's wrong? Afraid of animals? Well, allow me to be very clear. If I even so much as suspect that you've left me any gold, even one septim, you'll have a different Skyrim native to fear! I don't want any of your gold."

She then went back to the path she had been following to get there, and started to walk towards Solitude.

Lorelei used another bound arrow to banish the daedra, just as the man started pulling on her arm, trying to keep her from walking any farther.

What am I supposed to do to get rid of this pest?!

On instinct, she started to cast a Whirlwind Cloak spell. Just as soon as the annoying Imperial finished asking his questions, the spell's effects kicked in, and sent him flying several feet away where he landed near his friend.

I...I had no idea I could use that spell...

She then started walking again, hoping that he would finally leave her alone.

"Answer me!" the man yelled, and Lorelei froze in place long before a bound arrow landed by her feet.

---

"Please, answer me!"

---

She clutched her head with her right hand, and her eyes looked empty as the memory continued. The man also kept pleading with her, but she didn't really hear what he said, so it didn't do any good.

---

"I have so many questions, and I have to do something. I need answers. I'll do anything!"

The silence continued, which felt so much like the silence from her nightmares. The only reason she knew she wasn't asleep -not that she actually could sleep-, was the absence of any type of blood or gore. No, the horror here was the silence, the answers that never came, and the unsettling presence she could feel nearby...

---

Lorelei dismissed the bound bow, and then stumbled forward for a few steps, before pausing again.

Is it over...? I only saw a small part of it this time, unlike the others. Still, it's been a while since the last time I had that flashback, or any of the others like it.

Varren awakes to cold, hard dirt and the worst stench imaginable. It is a stench he knows well, having spent the majority of his adult years on a battlefield. It is the unmistakable stench of death. He slowly pushes himself to his hands and knees. His muscles are tense and heavy from lack of use, or more precisely from being dead, and his thoughts are sluggish at first. While he did have a physical form in Evergloam, it was... Different. Here, on Nirn, his body felt heavier. More cumbersome. In fact, it felt like he stepped into a high intensity gravity field, compared to Nocturnal's realm. Carefully, he pushes himself into a kneeling position, and falls back on his haunches. And, as he looks around at his surroundings for the first time, the battle hardened Warrior-King's eyes widen. Surrounding him, extending in every direction for miles and miles, is a mass graveyard. Corpses lay strewn about the landscape by the thousands; the bodies of his fallen people.

Varren immediately turns away and pukes, falling back to his hands and knees. He attempts to stand, but his legs buckle, and he falls right onto the dead body of one of his former generals. A trusted friend and comrade Varren had known for decades, and had given his life to protect his king. No... Not a king. Not anymore. What is a king without people? My family, my home, my kin... All is gone. I am the last of my kind. I am the last of the Elves.

Varren's eyes suddenly narrow. It was that monster... It was he who stole everything from him... Sithis, the Dread Lord. And now, he will pay. Varren's hands stop shaking, and he stands. This time, his legs do not buckle. This time, as he looks out across the desolate landscape, his eyes focus on the horizon. There, somewhere beyond all this death, Nocturnal's promised ship awaits. And that's where everything will truly begin.

"You were a fool Sithis," Varren breathes under his breath. "Any true warrior knows overconfidence breeds carelessness. Your ego will be your downfall. For the true 5th era starts now, with the dawn of a new Dominion. A new Empire."

Varren casually begins walking towards the horizon, the lone survivor amidst an ocean of dead, stepping over friend and comrade alike. And even now, as he walks through hell, the constant rain of ash and soot persists. Here, on this desolate island lost in time, the ash still falls.