The Return of Sithis, Volume 1: Awakening

"So kinsman, what hole did our mistress drag you out of?" Elena asked jokingly, as the two sat in her personal quarters, some time later.

"A hole called Solstheim," Varren replies, skirting around the truth. He isn't sure how much Elena already knows, or how much he should tell her. Varren smiles a bit as he moves his queen into position. The two have been playing an old elvish board game for some time now, simply talking, and enjoying each other's company. "Checkmate. And why do you ask, anyway?"

Elena expertly counters his move, moving her own piece into position, and effectively trapping his piece. "Ditto. And I was just curious. Lady Nocturnal didn't say much about you, only that you were her Champion, and we were to treat you as we would her. Oh, and that you are to use the Guild's resources as you see fit, and I'm to set up adequate lodging for you. But she never told us your race, name, or anything... So you can imagine my surprise. Outside of the few High Elves still living in Skyrim, I thought the elves were all dead. Killed in the Battle of the Final Era."

The Battle of the Final Era... So that's what everyone's calling it now... "We were," Varren replies softly, his mind wandering. "Myself included. You have no idea what it was like, Lady Elena... You should thank Auriel every night you weren't there."

Not that it would do any good, not anymore, now that Auriel is dead. The Guildmaster of Thieves inhales sharply. "So you were there then," she whispers, almost reverently. "You were at the battle. But... The Thalmor in Skyrim reported no survivors... How did you..."

"Survive?" Varren asks quietly. "I didn't. Nocturnal brought me back."

Elena's eyes suddenly widen. "You certainly don't look like one of the Returned."

He has to resist the urge to roll his eyes. "I assure you Lady Elena, I'm not some shambling skeleton. Or would you like me to disrobe and prove it?"

She blushes a bit, but she does appear contrite. "No, that won't be necessary. Forgive me. I didn't mean to offend you. And please. Call me Elena."

Varren nods, relaxing a bit in his chair. "Very well... Elena. Since you've thoroughly trounced me yet again, what would you like to know? Surely you want to know something. I can see the unmistakable glint of curiosity in your eye."

Elena seems unsure for a moment, even hesitant, but the moment soon passes, and she leans closer over the table. "What was it like?" She whispers excitedly. "To be part of arguably the most important point in history. Were you a common Soldier? A Battlemage? A Calvary Captain? What was the Dread Lord's army composed of? Demons, assassins, monsters? Worse?"

Varren feels a headache forming. He holds up a hand, silencing the elf's excited, if thoughtless, line of questioning. She was acting like a history student at Firsthold's Grand Museum. "What was it like?" He repeats softly, vividly recalling the horror and the terror. "It was terrifying. Blood and death, every way you turned, stretching for miles and miles. Bloody heads and scorched limbs flying everywhere, torn from their owners. The stench of new and old death, baking in the hot sun, and the screams of agony and terror and rage. The sound of lightning, and screams, and steel against steel... It was deafening. You couldn't even hear yourself think. And the perpetual ash rain, blanketing the ground with fresh coats, every time it got too soaked with blood... I watched friends and comrades be torn limb from limb, elves I had known for decades, some even centuries... I watched my people and my culture burn, knowing I was partially responsible for it all.. Was I some common Soldier? No... I lead that battle, in a different life... They called me High King then. I defeated the Listener herself in single combat, on those black shores... And I was killed by the Dread Lord's own hand..."

Elena's eyes had been growing wider and wider as he spoke, and now she was as pale as a ghost. "It can't be," she breathes in disbelief. "I've never been one to really keep up with Summerset politics, as I've always considered myself more of a Nord, but now I remember... I thought your name sounded familiar. You... You're my King.. High King Summerset himself, Ruler of the Aldmeri Dominion... You're a legend. The bards still sing of you, even the Nordic and Imperial bards. I... I'm so sorry. Please, forgive my careless questions. Is there anything I can get you? Food, drink? Maybe some wine? I think I still have some vintage Telvanni brew left."

Varren gives a weary smile at her frantic attempt to placate him. "I'm fine, thank you. I think I just need to retire for the night. I'm suddenly very tired."

Elena quickly nods, rising to her feet so suddenly she accidentally knocks the chair over. It's a little comical, if sad, seeing such a powerful and composed woman so flustered and nervous. "I'm really sorry about all this. Would... Would you like some company tonight?"

Varren smiles, but shakes his head. "Maybe some other time. I need to be alone with my thoughts for a while."

Elena shows him to his own quarters, and Varren is greatly saddened by the change in her behavior. Just once, just once, he'd like to have a normal friend, someone who wouldn't treat him differently... Someone who would care about him and not his crown.

The stranger slowly picked the lock as he rubbed a small golden locket, waiting for it to unlock. With a satisfying click, the lock finally came undone as the door swung open and he stepped inside. He crept up to the door to her room and picked the lock quickly and silently before knocking on it gently.

"May I come in?" He spoke in a much lighter tone than before, but he caught himself and continued speaking in the serpentine tone he had used earlier. "A word with you would be... nice."

"Who am I?" The stranger hissed through the door. "I am hope. I am fear. I am all, and I am none. I'm a stranger, a friend. I'm a lover, an enemy. I see all, yet I am blind. You know who I am. However, I do not know you. Who are you? Odette or Lorelei? Huntress or Archmage?"

"We aren't to far from his shine." Nephle said, placing a hand above her head to block the sun.
In her left hand she held the map. Siegemund nodded, not sure what to do once he arrived. Eventually,
Their feet stepped on solid stone and the brisk mountain air ruffled through their hair. "Thanks for accompanying me on this
Journey, though I have no idea why you decided to, I'm grateful." Siegemund grinned.

Nephle looked over in his direction and shrugged, " I didn't know you appreciTe my company so much."
She sniffed. They both knew she was faking the sniffing part. "Its good to have at least one friend." Siegemund continued.
He didn't wait for her reply as he was te first to step into the Cold halls of the shrine.

Nephle followed him with a slight spring in her step.
"Careful Tiger, this place has many various caverns, ones that we can easily get lost in...forever"
She ended dramatically.

The first cave ended swiftly, leading them to a pedastool with a black book.
"This is the part where we touch the book and the cave begins to rumble." Nephle told him.
Siegemund stepped forth and advanced slowly towards the book.

"Sometimes Nephle, you sound like you're an expert at these things." He replied. He touched the book and picked it up.
The odd thing was that it was a multicolored book that seemed be made of some sort of skin.
"Oghma infinium." Nephle read over his shoulder. He had to admit At first when she started doing that he was a bit jumpy.

One minute he was awake and the next he could hear Nephle screaming his name with Concern.
The welcoming sight he awoke to was... apocrypha with a few changes.

"If you're not Cor, then I don't see why you would have any interest in me at all. So do yourself a favor and get out of this house, before I decide it's better to kill you!" Lorelei yelled as she kept the arrow ready.

"I'm not, nor have I ever been or will be, the Archmage. That's the truth."

Lorelei kept her bow aimed at the man, while she tried to decide if she should kill him or not. If she did, she could claim self defense since he broke in. Then she could leave Solitude after a while, and go someplace else to start over.

"And there are two things I fear; Cor, and Vigilants. Nothing else."

"I already told you the truth! Odette was Archmage, I wasn't!" Lorelei said passionately.

"Odette was a gifted mage, and was always a very good person. She made friends easily, and had many admirers. However, that was also what plagued her. Cor became obsessed with the idea of being with Odette, and tried to win her heart in many ways, each gesture creepier than the last, including the rings he gave her. He seemed to have it all planned out. And despite her attempts to show him that his advances were unwanted, he refused to see anything as rejection, and believed that she loved him. Then, Cor decided it was time to give her one last 'gift'. He ruined her life."

How much more will i have to tell him before he leaves me alone?

"Odette just wanted me to be safe, and escape so at least someone would know what really happened to her. She bought the best equipment she could as she worked on a plan so I could get away. The few things I have that did belong to her at one time were given to me when she told me to run. Including most of her blue malachite, which I used to make my armor," Lorelei said.

Now, how do explain my fear of the Vigilants...?

"As for your last question...it's out if fear that they'll find me guilty by association."

"It's all true! You just have to put two and two together, and then you'll know that I'm not lying to you!"

Lorelei was very angry with the stranger. He didn't want to trust her about anything, and that was absolutely infuriating. If she still had arrows, he would be dead.

"But your theories are correct. If the Vigil ever finds out about what Odette did, they would hunt me down and kill me for it. So I don't go anywhere near those overzealous people. Now, for the last question, yes, Cor is a Breton. Why?"