Chapter 1: The Doors of Oblivion: Extended

"We should wait, Master Zenas. You're not well, and you could navigate Oblivion better than I ever could," I pleaded, despite knowing the answer already.

"Nonsense, Seif-ij. You're fully capable, and we've waited too long for this. We finally have the chance to explore Oblivion and grant Tamriel the knowledge it craves about the mysteries of Oblivion. We know so little about the Planes of Oblivion and their respective Daedric Princes. We need to know more about our universe." Morian Zenas reclined in his bed. "If I can't cure this affliction with magic, this could very well be the beginning of my end. We can't risk losing this knowledge."

"But Master, if we could just wait a little longer to see if you get better--"

I won't take that risk. Morian spoke directly in my mind through our accidental mental link. If you get into trouble, I can aid you and maybe even pull you out myself. You know how to exploit the portals of that Telvanni wizard. All you need do now is apply that knowledge. Your excellent memory will more than suffice for your inexperience. I looked at him, his aged Altmer face set in that stubborn expression where it'd be easier to bend the will of a dragon than convince him otherwise.

As you wish, Master. I'll make sure I gather as much information as I can. I stood up, left the room, and went into the vault where Morian conducted all his dealings with lesser Daedra. I muttered the incantation. A portal opened before me on the floor, the portal that would lead me to where few mortals have ever gone and returned from: the Planes of Oblivion, and perhaps even to their gods, the Daedric Princes.

I took a deep breath, and took the plunge.

Noise. 

The first thing I noticed was the noise: a cacophony of dissonant sounds, each vying for my attention. A scream here, a clang there, a hiss just behind me. It was only when I went to look behind me that I realized I was in free fall. The moment I realized this, however, the void again confused me. I was not in free fall, but floating up. Then, I was flying to the side. The orientation of gravity seemed subject to whatever realms I passed through. I opened my eyes to see thousands of colors flashing before me, some barely noticeable under the afterimages of the more vibrant ones. Suddenly, some sort of dust flew into my eyes, and I yelled out in pain. When I breathed in to replenish my air, I didn't breathe in dust. Instead, the air was ripped from my lungs with such force that I was amazed I hadn't felt anything tear. When I finally hit the ground, I did so in a heap. I pushed myself up, wiping dust and tears from my eyes, and looked around.

The sky was red, streaked with bolts of lightning that seemed to hover behind the clouds. The sand beneath me was hard and red, but just to my left I could see bits of life, including large roots that seemed to be inching towards me. On instinct, I cast an intense bolt of lightning at them, and they dodged it. I scrambled backwards, and the roots also retreated. To my right, the ground ended in a steep cliff that led to a sea of magma that stretched as far as the eye could see. In the distance, I could only just make out a single tower, with great spikes jutting out from its sides. The heat around me was intense, but the dryness made it bearable.

What news? Morian's impatient voice appeared in my mind. I should've been used to it, but by the Nine did it make me jump. Where are you?

I'm not sure, I replied, and then I described my surroundings.

You're in the Deadlands of Mehrunes Dagon, he said, sounding completely sure of himself. Be sure that the Dremora don't see you; they'll hunt you down and flay you alive. Thunder rumbled, and the clouds began to thicken overhead. Can you harvest any of the plants there?

Not without them trying to attack me. I eyed the creeping root, which was presently still as a stone. I might be able to burn off a section, but Destruction magic isn't usually my forte.

That'll do. Without hesitating, I sent a few fireballs at the roots, which let out a sound eerily close to a human scream. Rather than scorching a few spots around the bit of root I wanted to sever, it immediately burst into flame. When it cleared, there were a couple small bits of root that seemed mostly untouched, so I telekinetically brought one to me and pocketed it, noting the effort it took to bring it to myself that way.

Destruction magic seems to be amplified here, I told Morian. Both my fireballs and my lightning bolt were unusually intense. The sky began to darken, and a stale wind began to blow, carrying with it the stench of decay and burning flesh.

Fascinating, he murmured. Is it just Destruction magic, or other kinds as well?

I think just Destruction. Telekinesis took the same effort from me as usual. In the distance, dark droplets began to fall, a wall of liquid moving steadily closer. It makes sense. Mehrunes Dagon is the embodiment of destruction and change. I looked around for some cover, but found none as the storm approached.

What's your fear, Seif-ij? I can feel it.

A storm is almost upon me. I'll see if I can protect myself from it. With the wall of dark drops rapidly approaching, I began to cast an invisible umbrella over myself to shield me from whatever was falling from those clouds, but a deafening shriek cut through my focus and almost made me jump out of my skin, and I turned to see a huge lizard-like beast shake itself and begin lumbering towards me.

A Daedroth. I immediately cast a bolt of lightning at it, and it fell to the ground, twitching and croaking. Another bolt finished it off, but more were trying to hide behind boulders, as if I couldn't see them. Stupid creatures, I thought, and then the storm hit. Dark, oily liquid seeped into my robes and hair, dripping into my mouth with a copper taste even a dimwit could recognize as any visible light faded away, blocked by the stormclouds.

Blood.

I coughed and gagged, hastily casting a protective spell around myself, and although it slowed the onslaught slightly, more blood rained down upon me.

Seif-ij! Morian cried. Get out of there! This isn't worth your life! I collapsed and curled into a ball to stop any more blood from entering my mouth, and quickly wove the spell necessary to bring the next portal of the dead Telvanni wizard to me. Light shone from behind me, and without hesitation I rolled backwards into the portal.

This time, there was no such chaos like when I traveled from Mundus to Oblivion. The cold hit me first, biting deep into my body so that I immediately felt a deep ache in my bones. As I stood up, the ground sank ever so slightly beneath me, as if I were in a bog, but it didn't suck at my feet so that I would become stuck. I cast flames all around me, which helped to mitigate the chill, but not by much. I found myself missing the oppressive heat of the Deadlands.

Everything was dark. The sky was blue, dancing with blue flame. The rocks and trees were twisted and black, and any sort of plant life had long died. Hanging from various dead branches and outcroppings of rock were empty chains that jangled despite the still air.

I'm in Coldharbour, I told Morian, then relayed what I observed.

Do not tarry, he immediately warned me. The Lord of Domination knows you're there. He will seek you out, and if he finds you, there's little hope of escape. Get whatever information you can, but get out before Molag Bal finds you. I shivered, this time not entirely due to the cold, and pressed onwards, though not before cutting down a piece of a vine and pocketing it. As I roamed the wastes, I recognized some of the structures as broken, rotting pieces of the Imperial City, but that couldn't be true. The walls between Oblivion and Mundus were sealed; that's why it took Morian and I so long to find a way through in the first place. I shuddered and kept moving. I passed countless tortured slaves, who cried out to me even as they labored in their useless tasks, gathering up rubble they couldn't hope to clear in several lifetimes. I cast a spell of invisibility on myself, and was pleased to see myself easily fade from sight and for the slaves to cease their crying out. As I walked around a particularly large pile of rubble, the Imperial Palace came into view, but it was all wrong. The White-Gold tower was broken, its top crumbled down and the spire ending in a jagged stump. The Imperial Palace was covered in blood, gore, and corpses in various states of decay and intactness. The stench hit me like a chariot, and I had to quickly cast a spell to empty my stomach before I vomited.

"Awful, isn't it?" I froze. The voice that spoke behind me made me want to curl up into a ball and surrender, and I hadn't even seen the owner. "It is the inevitable future of your world, though. You might as well surrender. Make it easier on yourself."

My body flickered once, twice, and the spell of invisibility I cast on myself faded entirely. I shuddered, but drew myself up to my full height. "Only a fool surrenders to the King of Rape. I know you, Molag Bal." Something struck me in the back, and I went flying face-first into a boulder. My nose broke, and white-hot agony shot through my fae as blood began to flow, freezing to my face as it left my nose.

"Only a fool thinks he has another option!" he roared, his breath even colder than the rest of his realm. "Your knowledge makes you an ever greater fool, Seif-ij Hidja!" I flinched. "What, you thought you could hide from me in my realm?" Hands grabbed hold of my wrists and ankles, and I lashed out, my animalistic impulses taking over. They were too strong for me though, and I was turned around and pinned to a boulder by his withered slaves. Before me stood the Lord of Lies, the Prince of Schemes, Molag Bal.

He stood several times taller than any man, skinnier in proportion but no less terrifying for it. His skin was mottled black and blue, and appeared chitinous. My gut told me that nothing but the power of a god could pierce it. His legs ended with thick, reptilian talons, and he wore only a tunic crafted of skin and bone. His head sprouted twisted black horns like those of a bull, and they were stained with what could only be blood. In one hand he held a mace larger than me, and in his other he held a slave, writhing in his grasp but unable to break free from the crushing grip encasing its torso. His forked tongue flicked out, licking the slave's face, who screamed before being thrown at me. All the air was forced from my lungs as the slave exploded in a cloud of blue vapor, all of its blood long gone. As I gasped, he turned his eyes to me, pits of blue fire that danced with a hatred to rival his very sky.

"You may think you won't surrender. All the fools think that. In the end, even the most dimwitted fools are able to make the realization that resistance is pointless." He swung his mace at me, and I screamed as my right leg shattered. He swung again, and the lower part separated entirely. He picked it up, bone protruding from the knee, and shoved the jagged end into my throat. As he ripped it out, my blood began ro rush out, and I felt my mind fading. At least I won't surrender, I thought as I breathed out and couldn't find the will to breathe in again….

A slap to the face. I started awake, fervently hoping it was just a horrible nightmare. As I flexed my legs, I breathed a sigh of relief, before realizing that I couldn't move my ankles, and all my limbs were being stretched away from my body. I opened my eyes to see the King of Strife grinning down at me.

"You didn't think death could stop me, did you?" His voice rumbled in my ears, and I wanted to cry. "I am the Lord of Domination! Not even death holds dominion here! Again!" And thus the pain began anew. With a small movement from my hands, I cast a spell of silencing on myself, so even if my will broke I couldn't surrender to him. As my existence became nothing but torture, I heard a faint but insistent presence in my mind.

Seif-ij! Morian's voice was frantic. Just hang on! I'll try to summon you back to Mundus like a Daedra! I felt a tugging on my soul, but my body stayed put. The torture ceased for a moment, though, and Molag Bal began to laugh.

"So you have another Conjurer on Nirn, do you? A clever trick, but nobody leaves my realm without my permission!" He lowered his mace. "I'll give you your second chance to surrender early. Such a clever trick merits a reward, don't you think?"

Master Zenas, I mentally shouted. When I start to Conjure them, send more my way!

Will do. Anything to get you out. I undid the silencing spell, then began to wiggle my fingers madly, whispering to myself as I did so.

"SPEAK UP, MORTAL!" Molag Bal's voice thundered all around me, and my heart nearly stopped before I cried out.

"I surrender! I surrender!" His face split into an even wider grin, revealing sharp teeth stained with gore, until I thought his mouth would reach all the way around his head and the top would simply topple off. I felt my essence being sucked away, and knew I had only moments to spare before my surrender would turn me into one of the slaves around me.

"There, was that so hard? Slaves, release him!" The hands gripping my limbs disappeared, and I fell to the ground, still contorting my fingers and softly chanting.

When I finished, I shouted, "But not to you!" As I felt my energy returning to me from my false surrender, the Daedric army Morian and I had summoned fell upon Molag Bal from behind.

"TRAITOR!" As I healed myself, he swung his mace, and a battalion of Dremora fell to the side, bloodied and broken. "YOU THINK TO INVADE MY REALM?" Another swing, and a group of Xivilai collapsed.

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"No," I gasped, casting one last spell. "I think to escape it." As he turned towards me, the cold flames in his eyes burning out to consume his face, I dove backwards into the portal before blacking out.

When I came to, it was to my master's mental shouting. Yes, yes, I'm awake.

I feared you were dead. You need to come back. You're not ready for this. Concern tinged his thoughts.

I'm fine, Master Zoran. By the Nine, together we tricked a Daedric Prince. We can summon an army of Daedra if we have no other options. I'll be fine. I stood up and brushed myself off. Once I turned my attention outwards, I gasped. It was beautiful. Too beautiful. I saw flowers and waterfalls, growing larger with a beauty beyond compare. The trees that grew shone with the brilliance of the moon, and a city of silver rose before me. All the colors, so many, I was half-blinded by them. They ran together like water. No, it was raining, and the rain carried with it the scent of light perfume. Master Zenas… it's beautiful. I'm half-blinded by the beauty, and I'm having trouble thinking. What place could this be?

He was quiet for a moment. That must be Moonshadow, the realm of Azura. You are indeed lucky to have made it there. I couldn't help but agree with Morian. I wandered about, with only the memories of my torture in Coldharbour keeping me from frolicking there forever, when I stumbled across a gateway crafted of thorns and roses. When I entered, the most beautiful woman I'd ever laid eyes on sat upon a throne of rose petals. To her right was a crescent moon, and to her left was the image of the sun. I fell to my knees, with no doubts as to who this woman was.

"Well met, Lady Azura." My voice trembled, and I could barely do anything but gaze upon her beauty. Her form seemed ever shifting, but she was never beautiful in a way that a man might seek to claim her. No, her beauty was that of a goddess, radiating power and inspiring worship and reverence.

"Greetings, Seif-ij. What brings you here before me?" I told her everything, of my and Morian's research for a Door to Oblivion, of our mental link, of how I finally slipped through, and my experiences in the Deadlands and Coldharbour before finally arriving at Moonshadow. She listened to my breathless tale with a smile as radiant as the moon. "You have come far indeed, Seif-ij. You have interested me with your tale, so I will offer you one in return. Have you heard of the Nerevarine Prophecy?"

"Yes, Lady Azura. The reincarnation of Nerevar will come one day to unite Morrowind and cast down the usurper gods. The Tribunal condemns it, though."

"They are no Tribunal!" she snapped, and her beauty gave way to a terrible visage of anger and indignity. "They are pretenders to the thrones of we who founded Morrowind!" In her eyes I saw infinite depths of anger, the likes of which made Molag Bal look like a petty child, and I shrank back in fear of her cosmic power.

"Of course, Lady Azura," I heard myself stammer. "I meant no disrespect." She calmed, and returned to her previous beauty, though I now saw what wrath she was capable of.

"No, of course you didn't. I blame the usurpers, not you. Know this: the prophecy shall come to pass. Not in this era, which will last many more centuries, but the next. No matter the claims of the false 'Tribunal,' they will fall, and their unrightful godhood shall be severed through the actions of the Nerevarine. He shall outwit gods and Daedric Princes alike, a vessel of power unimagined in mortals.

"Now I offer you an invitation, Seif-ij Hidja: if you like, you may stay here in Moonshadow for however long you wish. Your cleverness and bravery make you a powerful being, and worthy of being by my side."

By the Nine! Morian's voice filled my mind. An invitation like that is unheard of! A great part of me wished to accept, to reside in Moonshadow, half-blinded by beauty forever. However, a greater part of me knew that I had to press on, for the sake of Morian and Tamriel's knowledge.

"I am honored, Lady Azura, but I must continue on my journey."

"Then I bid thee well, Seif-ij. May you find the knowledge you seek." Her radiance dimmed until I was standing outside the gateway of thorns and roses without having walked an inch. I plucked a silver rose from the ground, hoping to take a sample back to Morian. Closing my eyes, I chanted the incantation to summon another portal and stepped through. 

I entered into a bleak land. The sky was purple, scored with what looked like still lightning. The ground itself was barren, with only a few barnacle-like plants growing here and there, and fissures seeping purple energy cut through the sand, dirt, and rock. Some Nordic-styled buildings dotted the landscape, but those shouldn't be in a realm of Oblivion. Where am I? I thought to myself. One of the Nordic towers had an open top, upon which rested what looked like a giant soul gem.

Morian understood just a moment before I did. You're in the Soul Cairn, he said with wonder. The land of the Ideal Masters. How you slipped in here is a mystery, but let's not complain about our blessings. Did you bring a soul gem with you?

Yes, Master Zenas. Several, in fact. They jangled in my hip pouch. Even a couple black ones.

Where did you-- nevermind, we'll discuss this at a later date, Seif-ij. He sounded reproachful, but it was overshadowed with a thirst for knowledge. Those fissures, if I remember correctly, are where souls flow into the Soul Cairn. I'm afraid I'm not as much an expert on individual pocket dimensions as I am on Planes of Oblivion. Take your black soul gem and hold it to the fissure. A soul should flow into it. With any luck, we'll get a black, sentient soul that we could study.

I'll do it. I approached the fissure, but as I did I felt a drain on myself. It was as if my energy was being slowly sucked out of me. Shaking it off as just the loss of Moonshadow's beauty, I knelt down beside the fissure and held the black soul gems just above it. Instantly, I felt the gems fill with black souls, or souls of sentient creatures like humans or elves. In response, I felt the drain on my energy increase, and it was difficult for me to not collapse into the fissure. My mind felt like it was expanding, taking in too much information and simultaneously losing it despite not learning anything new.

Seif-ij! Morian's mental voice sounded urgent, but tiny and distant. Get out of there! It's trying to suck out your soul! He had to repeat this several times before I understood him, and even when I did, I didn't feel the energy for fear. I was tired, so tired. I murmured the incantation, stumbling over the words, and when the portal appeared in front of me I simply fell in, not having the energy to walk.

When I hit the ground, I opened my eyes to a storm, one that blocked out nearly all light, save for enough to cast dark silhouettes of twisted trees and creeping roots. I could already feel myself getting stronger, recovering the energy the Soul Cairn tried to steal from me, and I shuddered at how close I had come to death and how I had barely even cared. I took out a lesser soul gem and crushes it in my hand, absorbing the soul's energy and taking it in as my own. A vile practice, but it wasn't like the soul had much use for it anymore. Master Zenas, I'm back in the Deadlands.

Keep your wits about you, he said. Maybe you can get another sample. I stood up, my energy replenished. As I moved to cut a branch from a tree, though, reality shifted. Suddenly I was on a ship that was being sucked into a maelstrom, the ship itself manned by nobody. Just before a flying oar would have brained me, reality shifted again. This time I was in a den of raging animals, who all looked at me the moment I appeared. Terrified, I conjured up every manner of Daedra I knew of to defend me, but they all drew their weapons and turned on me instead. I wildly cast bolts of fire and lightning, and was pleased to hear their flesh sizzling as they were all laid to waste before me.

I'm not in the Deadlands. I think I'm in Quagmire, the land of Vaermina, Queen of Nightmares. Suddenly I was covered in webs, a giant spider crawling towards me. It spat venom at my face, but just before it hit me, reality shifted again. I was in a coffin, but the lid was off. Dirt hit me in the chest. I tried to move, but I was paralyzed as I was buried alive. Just before it first entered my mouth, I was free falling in the sky. Terrified, I shouted the incantation, and a portal opened below me. I passed through the portal and hit the ground hard. I looked up to see… books. Thousands upon thousands of black books without titles, pages fluttering in wind that I couldn't feel, and a sea of black tar from which tentacles rose up and waved menacingly. I felt ghostly impressions of others flipping through the pages, ever searching.

I'm in Apocrypha, I told Morian, still shivering from what I'd experienced at the hands of Vaermina's whims.

Oh, how I wish I could be there! He replied, longing and excitement warring for dominance in his voice. Hermaeus Mora's land of forbidden knowledge, all there is to know. What I wouldn't give to read one of those books. You should read one. Maybe you'll find out more about Oblivion.

Uh, Master, maybe that knowledge is forbidden for a reason? Even though it was just a mental link, I could hear him scoff.

Nonsense. What use is knowledge if nobody is to know it? Just one book couldn't hurt.

Fine, I said, and grabbed the first book I saw. It was thin, so hopefully it wouldn't warp my mind that much. I opened it and started reading. No, I thought. No, no, no, this can't be.

What can't be? Morian barked. What did you read? I could barely pay attention to his words. Frantically, I flipped through the book. No, the world can't end like this. There must be a way to stop it. There, that book! That one will give the solution! I opened it and flipped through the pages in a frenzy, desperate to save the world. No, no, it can't be just a dream. Nobody would ever guess the truth… Seif-ij Hidja! Stop reading those books right now! Morian's commands were insistent; I was having trouble focusing with them in my mind. So, I distanced my mind from his. I picked up a third book. I had to learn more, more, MORE. I felt a tugging on my soul, and I knew Morian was trying to summon me as if I were a Daedra myself again, like he tried to in Coldharbour. Thankfully, in one of the books I'd read, I learned how to resist even a Master Conjurer's summons, and I broke his magical attempts to transport me back to Mundus.

I rifled through book after book, desperate for answers. Several times when I looked up, I saw a mass of eyes and tentacles peering down at me, no doubt studying me for more information. Such was the nature of Hermaeus Mora, hoarder of all knowledge. Each time I looked up, however, was shorter, until I finally never did. I always had at least two books in my hand, one that I was reading and another to immediately open when I finished the previous book. Not even when I felt weightless did I look up, not until I reached for another book and found none.

I was in a verdant field, with giant twisting mushrooms reaching hundreds, thousands of feet in the sky. Man-sized insects roamed in the distance, and though it was night the multitude of stars in the sky meant I could see clearly for miles. Strange, frog-like creatures bigger than men swam in pools, and the flora looked bright and deadly. Far to what I assumed was the east, the land suddenly transitioned to dark, twisting roots, rainstorms, and walking tree creatures. Wherever I was, I wasn't in Apocrypha anymore. I frantically tried to cast my portal to go back, but it wouldn't open. 

"Oh! A new arrival! I'm so happy, I could just… tear out your intestines and strangle you with them!" The voice behind me was heavily accented, but not one I'd ever heard or, more importantly, ever read about. I turned around, hoping beyond hope that Hermaeus Mora was playing some trick on me, but instead I saw a bearded man in flashy regalia and holding a cane topped with what looked like an eyeball. He grinned, and I felt my mind shudder. In an instant, I knew who he was. How could I not, when I'd hungered for so much knowledge?

"You're Sheogorath, Prince of Madness. And this is--"

"The Shivering Isles, yes yes. And you're Seif-ij Hidja, apprentice of Morian Zenas. Charmed."

"The portal isn't working. Why isn't it working? I need to go back. I need to know. I need to--"

"The portal isn't working because I'm not letting it work. You've gone mad, plain and simple. You don't even realize you're speaking Gibberish, do you? My favorite language, incidentally." He seemed quite pleased with himself, but I recoiled, my heart being gripped by a cold hand.

"I'm not mad! It's just… I need to know more! The knowledge, it's all I have! I need it! I wasn't meant to understand, but I do! I handled it!" I paced around, already extrapolating new ideas from the old ones I learned. I needed more.

"If you weren't mad, old Mora wouldn't have given you up to me, now would he?" The Madgod laughed. "Face it, son: you're madder than a hatter. Of course, my old hatter died, so anyone's madder than a corpse, really, but you get my point. Or maybe you don't. Who's to say?"

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no," I chanted. I started running in circles. "I'm not mad, I'm not mad, I'm not mad, I'm not mad!" I collapsed.

"Here now, take some Greenmote. It'll help you out." He gave me a strange, green, mold-like thing, and without thinking I shoveled it into my mouth. The world around me began to swim, and I saw new patterns, new knowledge, new understandings the likes of which even Hermaeus Mora would give anything to know. "Welcome to Sheogorath's Madhouse, Seif-ij. Enjoy your stay."

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