Elder Scrolls True Daughter of Skyrim

The second Frodo, Sam, and Fluffy disappeared, he moved in his mist form. As did I, He slammed into me, shoulder-first, and I nearly toppled off the ledge. My boots scraped for purchase on the charred rock, and I forced myself upright, spear vanishing into storage, sword slipping into my hand, trying to find something that would give me an edge. Nothing did.

Every time I lunged, he was gone before my blade hit the air, leaving only that oily wraith-mist drifting where his body should've been. Every time I blocked, my whole body vibrated as if I'd just caught the full weight of a charging troll. I pushed off in sudden bursts, switching weapons mid-strike, aiming to catch him off guard. I even thought about using my frost magic for a moment, but my magicka reserves were shot. I had nothing left.

He wasn't just skilled, he was impossibly strong So much stronger than Aragorn. His blade chipped the edge of my sword, sparks rattling down the stone as I backpedaled repeatedly. By now, my arms felt leaden, and I was sucking in ragged gulps of the sulfuric air.

I had pushed into my alpha state as soon as the fight began, but it didn't even make a difference. Talion was calm, and detached, like he'd seen a hundred monsters stronger than me and killed them all the same. I'd dart behind him in a flicker of red haze, swing with all I had, and he'd just twist aside, slamming the hilt of his sword into my ribs. I bit my lip to keep from screaming, tasting blood, and feeling something crack in my chest.

when I tried something desperate. I feinted with the sword, slipped back into spear form, and thrusted. For half a heartbeat, I thought I'd got him. The spearhead nicked his thigh, drawing a thin line of blackish blood. He hissed softly. Then he retaliated with a brutal overhead slash. I barely raised my blade in time. The impact crushed the weapon down onto my shoulder. Agony tore through me, and I dropped to one knee, teeth gritted.

He tried to move past, making for the tunnel where Frodo and Sam had gone. I forced myself up and intercepted him. He batted me aside so casually. I rolled hard, scraping my face raw on the volcanic rock, vision flaring white from the pain in my shoulder. But I climbed to my feet again. My wounds screamed. My head pounded. 

He lashed out again, and I countered. Metal rang, sparks dancing, and I caught a glimpse of his face, there was annoyance there now, maybe anger. His form shimmered, black mist coiling around him as he tried once more to slip past. I let the red haze of my Elder Blood flare, shifting my position in an instant. We clashed midair, his sword carving a shallow groove across my forearm. Blood trickled down to my fingertips, making my grip slippery. I screamed, a hoarse, ragged sound, and swung wildly. He sidestepped, driving a fist into my gut. Air rushed out of my lungs.

I staggered, hunched over, fighting to stay upright. My legs shook, and I felt warmth spreading across my torso, my blood, seeping through my ruined armor. My heart hammered, and black spots danced in my vision. He was too fucking strong. Every blow rattled my bones, every dodge left me more drained.

 "Not… getting… past gravewalker," I growled.

Talion paused, breathing quietly, sword held low. He tilted his head, considering me. I lifted my blade, arm trembling with effort. We stared at each other for a moment. I saw him tense, as if preparing to rush me once more.

Then something caught his eye. His gaze flickered downward, towards my hand. Towards the ring I wore. The ring I took from Eltariel. He recognized it. I saw a flash of something in his eyes, shock, confusion, maybe even anger. He knew this ring. He knew it well.

He moved faster than I could react, his grip clamping down on my hand with bone-crushing force.

I screamed a ragged, broken sound that tore at my throat. Pain flared white-hot as he twisted, snapping my finger so violently I thought my wrist might shatter along with it. My knees buckled, and I sank to the ground, barely keeping hold of my weapon. Blood trickled over his gauntleted hand, dripping down to the ash-covered rock. All I could do was watch helplessly as he yanked the ring free, the snap of my finger echoing in my ears.

He tossed me aside like garbage. My shoulder slammed against a jagged outcrop, fresh agony blooming across my chest. I coughed, choking on my own blood, struggling just to breathe. Everything spun in and out of focus, Talion's dark silhouette, the glow of Mount Doom's fires behind him, the stench of sulfur and brimstone. The ring was now in his hand.

My vision blurred with tears of pain. I forced my body to move, but nothing responded the way it should. My left arm dangled uselessly, torn muscles screaming every time I tried to flex them. Each breath rattled in my lungs. My alpha form flickered at the edges, and my eyes still glowed, but the energy was draining out of me.

Talion stood there, ring in hand, and I swear for a moment he might've smirked. Then he turned again toward the passage where Frodo and Sam had vanished. He took a step, paused, almost like he was bracing himself, and pressed on. I couldn't let him go. If he caught up to them, it would all be for nothing. Gritting my teeth, I tried to push myself upright. My legs wobbled, and I collapsed onto one knee, nails raking through the grime and ashen gravel.

Before I could so much as shout, the entire mountain groaned. It sounded like the earth itself was splitting open. The ground lurched beneath me, throwing me flat on my side. Talion staggered, a flicker of confusion crossing his face as pillars of smoke belched from the passage. An unearthly roar rose from the fiery heart of Mount Doom, rattling stones loose from above.

Frodo and Sam had done it. They'd destroyed the One Ring. My ears rang with the mountain's fury. The red glow intensified, and the narrow ledge beneath us crumbled at the edges.

Talion doubled over, grunting in pain. The black mist that surrounded him flickered like a dying torch in a hurricane. With the Ring gone, he was losing that anchor. He dropped to one knee, the stolen ring from my finger slipping through his grasp to clatter onto the shaking ground. His sword fell next, the steel bouncing away with a hollow clang.

I felt my vision dimming, too. Everything hurt. I was losing blood fast, and the rush of adrenaline that had kept me upright was fading. My lungs burned with every ragged inhale, and I couldn't summon the strength to stand. Part of me wanted to crawl over there and snatch back the Bright Lord's Ring, but my body wouldn't obey. My broken finger throbbed in time with my heartbeat, each pulse spreading fresh misery.

Talion let out a choked, hollow sound, part growl, part gasp. I watched as his form wavered, growing translucent in places, the wraith-mist peeling away from his body. 

Then, in a final rush of tremors, the mountain roared again, and a rush of heat slammed us both. Talion vanished like a mirage. One moment he was there, flickering with that sickly wraith energy, and the next he just dissolved into thin air. 

I was still left half-dead on the scorching stones. My eyes drifted to the forms of Sam, Frodo, and Fluffy who were carrying them away from the mountain. Where I was they wouldn't be able to see me. My vision was smeared red and black. The heat clawed at my lungs, and every breath felt like inhaling shards of glass. The taste of blood coated my tongue.

Slowly, the world tilted sideways. My head bumped against the stone, and I thought, This is it, I'm done. Everything faded to a muted rumble somewhere, molten lava churned angrily around me but didn't reach my body. I couldn't feel my fingers anymore. My last thought before darkness swept in was that I wanted to go home… I wanted to see Arnovia.

I opened my eyes to the faint sound of singing. It was soft, and melodic, almost like a lullaby echoing from far away. The pain was gone. Or maybe just muted. I sat up, or rather, I tried to. My body felt weightless like I was floating in warm water. I blinked, taking in my surroundings. Everything was… white? Misty? It was impossible to tell how big the place was. There was a vast floor that looked like marble, but I couldn't see any walls. Up ahead stood a massive throne carved out of something that looked like living moonlight. The singing seemed to come from behind it, around it, a chorus of gentle voices mingling in strange harmony.

A shape stirred beside me. I jerked, heart hammering, only to realize it was Aruzhan. She looked confused to but also pissed…. She was as confused as I was, eyes wide, mouth slightly open. "Where the hell are we?" she murmured, voice echoing. I shook my head, unable to answer. I had no idea. One second, I'd been dying on the slopes of Mount Doom, bleeding from a hundred wounds, and the next, I was here.

I wasn't exactly dead, but I wasn't alive either. The injuries I'd sustained were nowhere to be found, and yet… I felt hollow like there was a chunk of me missing. Aruzhan rose to her feet, testing her limbs. She glanced at me. "really after some stupid ring and got us killed...."

I didn't know what to say. I kept silent and looked around trying to think of what to say. truthfully that ring would have been an amazing help to us but I ended up putting my wargs in danger. I was so focused on getting it that I didn't really think of the danger.

That massive throne loomed ahead, gleaming in a way that hurt to look at directly. My ears still caught the singing, but the words, if there were any, didn't make sense. My crown I didn't have it on and I couldn't pull it or get into my storage. Slowly, the two of us approached, caution warring with curiosity. We were drawn forward.

I paused, placing a hand on my chest out of habit. No heartbeat thundered there. Yet I was moving, thinking, breathing. "are we dead?" I asked, half to myself. Aruzhan shot me a look that said, If you're dead, so am I, genius.

We stopped a dozen paces from the throne. Up close, the seat was impossibly tall, the back rising into swirling designs that reminded me of vines or branches made of pure moonlight. The singing grew louder, but there was still no sign of any singers. 

I glanced at my twin. "What now?" I whispered. She shrugged, looking as lost as I felt. Neither of us had an answer. But as I reached out, tentatively, toward the throne, I heard the softest rasp of footsteps behind us. I spun, heart, lurching, only to see… no one. But the singing changed, growing urgent.

[ so this will be it for the week as Im traveling to spend the holiday with family, I hope you all have a wonderful week and until we meet again.]