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Xivilli
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re: To Oblivion

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Xivilli panted as he stood on the cliff edge overlooking a beautiful plain of fresh, green grass. His body was tattered and bloody, and he knew he had a few broken ribs. Looking down, he placed a hand tentatively on his chest. There a wound sat, gaping and grotesque, over his heart. A cool breeze blew through his long black hair and goatee, as gentle as a lover’s embrace. Fresh tears cascaded down his cheeks. This wound had been given to him by a General on the battle field for the Imperial city.
House Hlaalu and its allies had decided to launch an all out battle against the Daedra worshipping Imperials. With magic and siege engines they had brought down its walls and froze the Rumare. Xivilli had fought beside his comrades- Idas, Falauren, even Katriel. He unleashed a Lightning Storm spell upon the defenders, cutting a huge hole into their lines. No sword or arrow could fell him as he was able to dodge or block before countering. However, Xivilli was no match for a ballista bolt through the heart, when he wasn’t looking, that had been fired by the opposing General himself, having grown tired of the Dunmer’s lightning.
Had they won? Was the Imperial City now Ebonheart? He did not know. Duel ebony blades in hand, he looked at the world around him. This was not Apocrypha.
Suddenly, the sky rumbled. Storm clouds began to let rain fall onto the world around him and lightning struck in the distance. Xivilli could see figures looming out of the forest that surrounded the once beautiful plain. Eyes widening, he saw numerous beasts crawl out of the wood work and on to the plain, growling and snapping their jaws like hounds waiting for the hunt.
“Welcome, Xivilli, to my Hunting Grounds.”
His eyes shot to the sky. A man, spear in hand, and the head of a great stag skull laughed at the show of his fear. This was no man. This was Hircine.
“Hircine! Why have you brought me here? I am to go to my master’s realm, release me at once!”
“You do not command me, whelp!” Hircine roared, making the earth shake under Xivilli’s feet. “You still possess my gift, my lycanthropy! It is the very blood in your veins that has brought you to me, boy. And now, I shall claim you as mine. Hermaeus Mora will just have to deal with your loss.
“Let the Hunt begin!”
The ground trembled at the pounding and rushing of so many lycanthropes charging from the clearing for Xivilli on his cliff top. More and more bled through the trees, an endless amount of the beasts seeming to come at their master’s call. Xivilli gripped his amulet, calling upon the Daedra inside. The Xivilli burst from the metal, claymore in hand. It looked to its master and smirked.
“Kill any that come up that cliff, my friend.” The Dunmer spoke softly, working up the power in his magic. He knew this would be futile, that they would destroy him, but if he was to be taken then he was going to go down fighting.
The Daedra stood ready, casting magic in his left hand.
Two fireballs, one in each hand, Xivilli launched them at the oncoming tide of wolves. The fire exploded upon impact, taking out two or three at a time. Some were only heavily damaged rather than dying outright, which made him tense. The Daedra beside him launched a few of his own, though they did far more damage.
Hircine laughed at this show of resistance. Not many ever fought with this caliber to reject his Hunting Grounds, and none so far had been able to defeat so many of his minions, but no matter. There would always be more.
Xivilli screamed in rage as he unleashed his signature Lightning Storm, the continuous beam of pure lightning slicing into the wolves as they charged. Some were climbing the cliff, blackening the brown stone with their fur and numbers alone. A wave had reached the cliff’s edge, and the Dunmer smirked. Focusing a blast of magic into his palms, he smashed his hands into the earth. The cliff shook and trembled as the edges collapsed, just and inch away from his fingers. The entire cliff side began to rock and shatter, letting the hordes of wolves fall to their demise by rubble and gravity.
The crash was deafening compared to the thunder of the storm, but Xivilli laughed louder than he had in ages at the small victory. The Daedra beside him grinned in amusement, staring at the new wave of beasts that came for them. Xivilli stood upright in his soaked clothes, blood running down his face, grinning madly as magic coursed through his body.
“I am Xivilli Telvanni of the Great House Hlaalu, and I shall not fall knee to you, Hircine!” He screamed, launching a bolt of lightning straight for the prince himself.
The prince vanished.
Xivilli quickly whipped around, only to be met with a spear being driven through his abdomen.
Before him stood Hircine, the god choosing to stand at the same height as the Dunmer, who chuckled as Xivilli curled slightly in agony. He could tell the spear went through and through, but that did not matter even as the blood in his body continued to flow from the wound and trickles down the spear, coating the Father of Man Beast’s hand. The Daedra from the amulet vanished, indicating to Xivilli that he was dying.
“You could not resist fate forever, mortal.”
Xivilli smirked and looked into the prince’s eyes, “I serve fate, Hircine.”
This angered Hircine as he jerked the spear free, making the Dunmer fall to his knees and cough up a small amount of blood. The Daedra allowed Xivilli to stand on shaking knees, somewhat impressed by his strength of will to not give in.
“It seemed for a moment there… you did fall knee to me. Though, it was painfully.” He could almost hear the smirk in Hircine’s words.
“I serve Hermaeus Mora, Huntsman.” The Dunmer grinned, his vision going dark. “I… serve…”
“And so you shall continue to do so,” said a familiar voice.
From behind Xivilli, a mass of black tentacles shot from the air and pushed Hircine back, knocking the god back a good distance. The Dunmer was confused and fading, until he was impaled by one of the long, black appendages. He went limp in Hermaeus Mora’s grip, and the Prince of Knowledge chuckled as the Huntsman stood, angry at this intrusion.
“You dare enter my realm!” Hircine roared.
“You attempted to steal my minion,” Mora said slowly, “and I’m the one at fault? I have come to take back this Dunmer. He is no longer yours to claim. This one is mine!”
Power suddenly flowed into Xivilli’s body, ripping apart his body in haste. The tentacle allowed the Dunmer to fall to the ground, where he writhed and convulsed before hesitantly standing. All his wounds were gone. His grey skin was now covered in a black and green armor, leaving his head free. The plates depicted tentacles and eyes, which covered every inch of this strange metal that vibrated with power. Xivilli saw that in each of his palms, a bright blew light shined in the form of a rune of Daedric writing, the symbol, “OHT”.
Xivilli’s long black hair had turned silver and blue runes ran across from cheek to cheek over his nose. Grinning, he felt some untold power rushing through the very depths of his soul.
Hircine took a step back, “Mora… you gifted him with Daedra blood?”
“Yes, Hircine,” Hermaeus Mora said, “Xivilli is now bound to my realm of Oblivion by the power of the Daedra. I have tied his soul to Apocrypha. Much like a Dremora, should he be slain, he shall reform over and over for eternity.”
“He is no Daedra!” Hircine yelled, pointing his spear at Xivilli.
“No, he is no true Daedra… but he is as close as a mortal can get. A gift, for my most promising minion,” With that, Mora encircled Xivilli and ripped him from the Hunting Grounds and into Apocrypha.
There, Xivilli stood before his Lord, at the summit of Apocrypha. Tears of mad joy fell down his cheeks, and when Xivilli wiped them away he saw they were black. For years he had dreamed of this moment. He may have lost his life and elvenhood, but he was now here, with the beating heart of a Daedra in his chest. Grinning, he wondered what Idas would say, or even Falauren, if they could see him now.
Mad cackling escaped his lips as power coursed through his veins.
“Will you continue to serve me faithfully, Revus?” Hermaeus Mora asked, his form blotting out the sky.
Xivilli grinned madly before bending knee to his master, the power at his fingertips was indescribable.
“I shall live ever to serve, my Lord.”
Mora chuckled and a tentacle reached down and pulled a sword from the waters of his realm. It was as long as Xivilli’s body and the blade was pitch-black with a decorated guard that resembled a Lurker’s maw and a hilt of intertwining tentacles. Eyes wide, Xivilli reached and accepted the sword from the prince.
“Now go, and retrieve… an Elder Scroll.”
Xivilli looked up, confused.
“The Scrolls are inside the White Gold Tower, my Lord. Are you suggesting…”
“I will not repeat myself, minion.”
Closing his eyes, Xivilli stood and bowed once again. He turned and walked towards the edge of the tower at which he stood. The Dunmer leaned forward and fell off the edge as the waters below parted, a shimmering portal forming before him.
“I guess it’s time to say hello to the House.”
Hermaeus Mora was the Prince of Fate. Why would he need an Elder Scroll? Sighing, he let the portal take him. He would not question it. Xivilli began this path as a servant and here he was a servant once again. A small grin formed on his sober lips.
It seems that despite all his power, his fate is to remain a servant for eternity.
[/i]


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Xivilli
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Joined: 29 Jul 2013
Posts: 760

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re: To Oblivion

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My entry into the Ending Competition, as I've taken to calling it in my head. Submitted and now up for reading, let me know what you think, guys. I do love feedback.


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