God of Madness

Chapter One | Recognition

Sheogorath was not pleased.

For two hundred years, she allowed the gods to take away everything she knew and loved on Nirn when she ascended as a god in Jygglag's place. But she was not a fool. She knew she had a rare influence on the outcomes of the world when she had been a mortal; she had changed the Dark Brotherhood, became the Gray Fox of the Thieves Guild, the Arch-Mage of the Arcane University among various other titles and responsibilities. Sheogorath had been an unusual mortal who had garnered the favor of both aedra and daedra. She had become so powerful her name was only whispered in legends and the courage of mead. Because as much as an impact she had made on Tamriel, the true height of her influence had been overshadowed by Martin Septim's sacrifice.

And she was fine with that.

If not for the fact that the moment her dearest friend saved the world, he had fulfilled his role to "close shut the jaws of Oblivion" it became clear that she was no longer needed on Nirn. Her influence had become too great to allow the smooth transition of the next hero, the last Dragonborn, to change the tides of the world. All her friends, her home, and all she held dear was taken from her the moment she stepped through the portal into Shivering Isles. Now she was the madgod, and even that was more of a presentation than a role.

These thoughts often plagued her musing as she sat on her throne, overlooking the red and green divide of her kingdom.

But she had things to do.

"Haskill!" She shouted with a wave of her hand, summoning her advisor to her throne room.

"Oh, you summoned me again. Joy," the man deadpanned, but the effect was ruined under the illusion of the old Sheogorath wearing his face. By the twitch of her lips and his long-suffering sigh, he knew it as well. Deciding to be merciful and not draw this out, she dismissed her crafty illusion allowing his true appearance to show. Gone was the bearded, graying face of Sheogorath as the people on Nirn knew her as and in its place was her exhausted servant looking for all the world that he rather be in his quarters resting than here. Pretending to be the old Sheogorath had always been draining for the man.

"Don't be like that," she waved, chuckling half-heartedly as she shifted in her throne. Her back ached from projecting the demeanor her loyal subjects expected of her. It took a certain temperament to get through the insanity her subjects often projected as problems to her. Finding a real problem among hundreds was difficult as it could be.

But, the last few decades have reaped more candidates of madness. In their arrival, she learned of the current times the gods among the world tried so hard to isolate her from.

Her smirk disappeared, and the air turned serious.

"What have you learned?" She asked her spy.

Haskill frowned - noticeable only by the tightening of his wrinkles. Sheogorath flexed her hands over her staff to hold her back from yelling at him to spit it out already.

"The Dragonborn has been discovered. Akatosh's children return to Nirn," he sighed before continuing. "Already, the gods are seeking his favor. Hircine, Hermaeus Mora, Sanguine, Nocturnal, and Merida have already begun to influence the actions of the young Nord."

Sheogorath stood. The eyeball on her staff glaring at Haskill for the dreaded news.

"So this moment has finally arrived," she announced as she walked down the stairs from her throne. Her staff tapped against the ground as she left through the doors of her castle, her loyal servant two steps behind her. "A mortal of great prophecy and influence has already begun to change the tides of this world. He, too, will know the height of darkness, the taste of power, and the love of the people."

She threw open the last doors that led to her gardens, the night sky glistening as the last of the constellations in the night sky finally formed.

"I have waited two-hundred years for this moment," she whispered, her eyes locked on the only piece of this realm that she loved. This sky was not like the one on Nirn, but it continued to take her breath away even after centuries.

"My lady?" Haskill asked, eyeing her with a single eyebrow raised in question. It was the most expressive she had seen him since Jygglag left her in charge.

For so long, she had waited. Plotted and planned, dreaming and longing to escape the chains of this position that was forced upon her by another god. To be barred from returning to Nirn because the gods could only influence the world through their followers. To have the daedric artifacts and blessings of the aedra robbed from her when she could no longer spread their influence in the world—losing her closest friends to the whims of the gods and ancient prophecies.

Now, the opportunity to be free of their influence had arrived.

She turned away from the night sky and met Haskill's eyes clearly. "It's time you take the throne, Haskill."

A place in her kingdom her subjects would kill each other for, simply left her advisor slumping his shoulders with a mournful sigh. He never was one for responsibility.

"Will, you ever return, my lady?" He didn't want to hold the responsibility forever, after all. Pretending to be the late Sheogorath was hard enough for him.

Sheogorath smirked in answer, although her shoulder shrugged in uncertainty. "Not if I can't help it, my friend."

"Now I know the world is ending," Haskill stated. She never complimented him so frankly.

"It is ending," she agreed, her hands tightening on the wood of the staff. She could feel it's power embedded in the blood and the wood.

She handed her symbol of power to her successor.

Blue eyes met brown.

"But," she said as she gave the stars that had guided her all these years a mischievous grin. "With every ending follows a new beginning."

Sheogorath stood in the ancient tree inside her throne room with her instrument of escape in the palm of her hands. A single scroll had driven dozens of her followers into madness for reading into this before their time. But the stars had told her this moment in history would arrive and now a fragment of creation lay in her hands.

To her knowledge, Elder Scrolls were pieces of history that foretold possible pasts and futures. Once read by her, whatever she gained from it would become fact, and the scroll would record the event in the flow of time. Those who had a destiny in the time-stream could read the scrolls without going blind - or mad.

Sheogorath was always going to leave Aurbis. She was sick of the gods' influence on her life. And once she swore she was going to do something - she never backed down on her word. She never gave up until she finished what she set out to do - that had to create a potential future, right?

Either way, her life would change when she opened this scroll.

She took a deep breath, straightened the straps of her knapsack, and reminded herself she had everything she needed to whatever place this scroll would send her if it sent her.

If it didn't blind her.

Fear never held her back before. It wouldn't start now.

She opened the Elder Scroll.

White light flashed before her eyes, and the Breton was thrust into the shining lights of the scrolls symbols. Her body was sent hurtling through the void and constellations that were not her own passed by her. She tried to make shapes out of the stars and was surprised when more and more stars decorated the void. There were more in the distance and far more than Aurbris ever had.

A small orb of light and a large orb of fire revolved around a rotating planet, much like Nirn.

As she moved closer to the planet, a wave of cloudy white mist rolled over the surface of the planet. Pressure pushed down on her as the divine power of the universe made itself known. She could sense the various influences among this universe and its source appeared to be coming from the planet rather than the void she was in.

There were gods here.

The symbols of the elder scrolls resurfaced in the space in front of her as she fell to the subject of their influence. It was a reminder of why she opened the Elder Scroll. Her destiny was written in the fragments of creation here, and that meant she was needed here.

The false god closed her eyes and embraced the white flash of the elder scroll's departure.

The warmth of the sunlight rays woke her from her slumber. Without a word, the young Breton sat up, her eyes opening to scan her surroundings. She was in a forest.

For a different universe, this one didn't seem too different from Nirn.

Her armor creaked as she rose to her feet. The metal plating was miraculously unbroken, which led her to assume she hadn't fallen from the void as the elder scroll led her to believe.

"Strange," she muttered to herself. As similar as their worlds appeared to be, there was one stark contrast. There was no magicka satiating the air. She walked to the nearest tree and pressed her palm against the bark.

There was power in the trees, and in the soil, they grew from. But it wasn't like home - these trees were not given to the people of this world. They instead belonged to someone, nurtured and looked after by them. Her brows furrowed as she considered what role the 'aedra' of this world took here.

Luckily, magic had been a gift everyone on Nirn was born with the ability to use. Even the Nords could use it - as often as they voiced their distaste for the arcane arts. A power that came from within and not from the world around them.

Sheogorath called the magicka from within and felt the refined power of centuries of training lick under her fingertips as the energy practically vibrated in excitement. She sighed, feeling the chameleon spell crack over her head like an egg as the illusion clung to her body like a second layer of armor.

She would have to reapply the spell frequently, but she didn't know what this world was like. If she could walk into a castle dressed as an assassin with no one trying to arrest her on sight because of this spell, then it should work here as well. Instead of experiencing this world invisible to her surroundings, she would instead blend perfectly in. People, animals, and creatures would see only what they wanted to see when they saw her. Instead of seeing an assassin, the guards saw a peasant. Instead of a wolf seeing a trespasser, they would see a member of the pack.

Confident in her camouflage, Sheogorath moved forward to explore the forest the elder scroll had dropped her in. Unfamiliar plants intruded her path, and out of habit, she nibbled on them to learn their uses.

She snapped off a petal of a small, yellow flower and chewed on it. Light, airy, easily dissolved on her tongue. She tried a leaf and noted that it was weaker. Better to use the leaves as a part of a salve. Like a bandage.

So, " a healing property," she concluded.

Next, she picked up a spotted red mushroom hiding in the shadows of a tree. She grimaced as she bit into it. "Mushrooms suck," she said as she put it in the poison reagent bag.

Nausea swept through her, and her stomach voiced its discontent. Quickly, she applied a soothing blue aura to her hand and pressed it against her throat to ease the inflammation, pressed it against her stomach to cleanse the toxins and her heart for good measure.

Satisfied with her findings, she continued on her way. She passed wolves, deers, boards, and birds without a sign of human influence. At least some of the plants here were recognizable, and she was able to find branches to make kindle and arrows with.

The lack of mortal presence was on her mind, though. There was no dirt path back to civilization. No sound of hoofs clicking along the road as a horse took its carrier between cities—no abandoned tents.

Maybe these gods never created a mortal race in their own image? Or maybe, the races they did create don't look like men or mer or even beastfolk? She took a deep breath, reminding herself to keep an open mind. She needed to look at this world, not like Nirn, but like Shivering Isles. Nothing is known.

As she settled down for the night, she cleared her mind of questions as she set up camp. She dug a pit, set up a stone barrier, and added enough branches to burn through the night before she sent a spark of flame into it. The fire instantly roared to life, licking against her hands in a kind warmth without harm to protect her from the chill and darkness of the night.

But she didn't sleep.

Instead, she took a branch from a nearby stack of kindle and a dagger. Methodically, she began to craft arrows - the one replenishable resource she was always quick to run out of and spent a fortune buying arrows from cities before she finally learned to make them herself.

She could always use conjured arrows, but she couldn't enchant those with her magic like she could these. Hours passed before she had feathered the wings of her last arrow she had scrounged up from the ground that all she had left to do was craft a quiver.

But unlike the blacksmiths on Tamriel, Sheogorath doesn't know how to make anything outside the basics. The best she can do is make a fur quiver using the hide of a large animal. Like a bear!

"Are there bears here?" She asked herself, thinking of the animals she had already recognized from her world.

A yawn broke through her musings, and she resolved to hunt for a suitable animal in the morning. Removing the straps of her knapsack, she laid the pack against a tree stump before untieing her bedroll attached to it. It may be over two-hundred years old, but it smelled like home and had seen much use throughout her adventures.

She smiled as she laid it down on the grass by her fire with the company of the stars looking after her. Only, these stars were not the lights that had guided her from High Rock to the Imperial City. They were not the stars the guided the Emperor to her cell.

Sheogorath wondered if they had the same influence in this world.

The madgod fell asleep under the new moon, her imagination drawing lines between the stars in an attempt to discover what they represented.

If only it was so easy to understand this world.

Sheogorath tried not to think about all the things she missed about Tamriel when she was barred from ever returning. But, when she woke up this morning to see the sunrise, she felt the anguish in her spirit settle. There were many things she regretted when she lived in Tamriel. For so long, it felt like time wasted, but now... she would do it all again just to see this.

As she cleared the signs of her presence and packed up her camp, she tucked her stack of incomplete arrows under a bush. A feather drifted by close to her, and she looked up to see a straggle of birds flying west. "Odd," she commented.

Animals and birds usually avoided people, even if this world was absent of civilization, the fire from her camp alone would've kept them away. But instead, they've been passing through her camp like there was a forest fire coming after them.

She turned eastward to gauge what was heading her way, but there was only the wind to ruffle the leaves of the trees. Pursing her lips, she wasted no time to shoulder her knapsack and strap her weapons on her back. Sheogorath could stand still and let the threat hit her, but this wasn't Shivering Isles where she could literally create and destroy anything in her way. Neither was it Cyrodiil, where it was her duty to face a greater threat when any other person would flee at the mere rumor of.

But ultimately, no matter how confident she was in her own capabilities, she knew that confronting an unknown enemy with reckless bravery was foolish.

She mimicked the animals' movements by running in the other direction. Decked in heavy imperial dragon armor, a face mask, and a pile of weapons weighing on her back made it easy to feel the weight of the sun on her back. She cast a cooling spell on her neck to encase her entire body and prevent her from collapsing from the strain after running non-stop for hours.

By the time the sun was overhead, she had realized whatever was coming from the west wasn't stopping, and she wouldn't be able to outrun what was coming. The madgod continued to run forward, deciding to find the opportune moment to set an ambush. By the time the forest was split into a clearing, she had discovered that a few deer had stopped to graze. Sheogorath still needed that animal hide, and this was the perfect place to hunt.

She unsheathed her dagger and looked for the tallest tree with the most branches before starting to scale it. Her blade dug into the wood until she reached the lowest branch, out of sight from those approaching below that were not actively searching for her. She renewed her chameleon spell for good measure and crouched low as she waited for the scene to unfold.

A part of her itched to run at the unknown, to confront her enemy and slay it like she has slain all those that came before. But the part of her that has been hardened by the Dark Brotherhood told her to stay hidden and wait it out, strike only when her target had left itself vulnerable for exploit.

She waited.

And her patience was rewarded.

A creature stalked out of the forest that was as monstrous as it was magnificent. She understood why the animals fled the way they had but questioned the instincts of the deer that continued to graze even as the clearly malicious creature crept up behind it.

It was like a minotaur - a hybrid - but more than that. It had the body of a lion but the face of a man. An armored tail coiled overhead that had a deadly stinger of spikes dripping a dark liquid that aged the grass black and old. The rays of the sun shone off the golden fur and red mane of the lion. Rows of gleaming white fangs peeked through its lips as a mockery of a grin twisted its face.

If there was ever a monster in a man, this was it.

The beast was built strong and bulky, each movement slow and calculated, and Sheogorath was sure that the monster had made its presence known clearly to its target. But the deer continued to pull berries from a bush as though oblivious to the monster's presence.

Sheogorath furrowed her eyebrows at the scene. Was it possible the animal couldn't see the monster as she could?

The monster circled its prey, and the deer never looked up.

Then it struck: jabbing his stinger down in a single motion that hit the deers rump before withdrawing. The deer cried out a terrible noise that made her want to clamp her hands over her ears. The deer had been crippled by its pain and was thrashing frantically on the ground like it was struggling against an unseen force pinning it down.

And the monster was just standing over it, grinning maliciously as it watched its prey squirm. Sheogorath curled her lip. Even she, who had been in the dirtiest business in Tamriel, made her kills quick and clean unless specifically ordered otherwise.

Watching this cruelty erased any doubts that she would need to face this enemy and destroy him.

Sheogorath watched the sun as the monster drew the deer's fate out. The kill was slow, the stinger was only needed once as the prey's pain was unending, and the creature never stopped crying out. After that, it went for the most painful injuries and avoiding the lethal points.

This showed intelligence.

So the monster was not only invisible to animals and extremely dangerous but also intelligent.

By the time the deer had finally bled out from its injuries, the monster had sat down on its haunches to enjoy its kill. Only, it didn't just tear into its meat. A soft hum emitted from its throat - a sharp contrast to its intimidating appearance - and what sounded like a song left his mouth as he chewed. The creature was crooning, and Sheogorath was annoyed at herself at how beautiful the song was. It was like the chant of Sithis. Beautiful but a promise of their terrible end.

Sheogorath remained in the cover of the trees as she waited for the creature to finish its meal. She knew better than to attack it while it ate - that was when they were most vicious. It was better to wait for the creature to have its fill and then be vulnerable during its digestion period.

But instead of settling down to rest or even move on to find shelter, the monster instead began to circle the field as it sniffed the air. Sheogorath checked her spell, making sure her chameleon spell was still active.

It was.

Then he crooned again, but this time with words.

A language she understood.

"To live without evil belongs only to the gods," the tone was mocking like the creature didn't believe its own words sung. His eyes were scanning the area, different colors, one brown, and the other blue.

"But time sees all and hears all, exposes true evil," he promised and roared into the sky—a warning to all who heard his words. Sheogorath wondered for a moment then, if the creature was talking to her.

Sheogorath tucked closer to the tree, deciding to wait out the confrontation to this creature. This was not an enemy she could fight as she normally would. And eventually, the monster left the clearing in a relaxed stature like it was unconcerned of other predators or attack after leaving an obvious source of food from its leftover prey.

She jumped out from the tree, tucking her knees close as she executed a perfect summersault before landing in another roll. She smiled at the adrenaline rush and slowly went over to the deer remains to learn more about the predator.

It was a grotesque sight, but she had seen worse from people like the King of Worms and Mathieu Bellamount. She grimaced at the thought of the latter. His actions were the sole reason she was glad to have escaped the influence of Sithis and the Night Mother. They had known all along what Mathieu would become and simply watched as he single-handedly destroyed the family that had welcomed her using her as his blade.

The gods had no value of mortal life.

Shaking those ancient musings away, she inspected the manner in which the creature had feasted on the deer and the little it had left behind. A carnivore with what appeared to be an unsuitable bloodlust. It ate like the deer was a small meal and not what would sate full-grown lions for several days.

She brushed her fingertips against the indentions of its pawprints that were heading north. It changes it course from the east... why? Surely it had not traveled so far for so long for a simple deer? It's cryptic song left her with many questions toward the intelligent creature's intentions.

It had to be hunting something else. The deer was just a happy encounter to quench its thirst.

She was wary but there was no one else that needed her and no hints of civilization to help her find a quest to adventure on. So, this was her best chance at learning more about this world and-

Damn it all, she longed for a good fight!

Sheogorath stalked after the monstrous creature well into the evening, the sun sinking lower and lower in the sky as darkness encompassed the shadows of the trees. A white light encompassed one of her blades as the blade transformed into its sapphire-jeweled counterpart. She cast a night-eye and detect life on herself as she relentlessly pursued the predator, her eyes easily seeing through the dark and pink auras of insect life forms announced their presence well before their sounds.

She hadn't seen the monster's aura yet and assumed she was out of range. That was fine. Any closer and the creature may become aware of her presence. Their instincts would make them cautious and a cautious creature that already has great intelligence would become a greater threat to her.

Sheogorath was led through the forest until she had made it to another clearing. Though this one led downhill between mountains with what looked like a road splitting through the mountains. Like a trench in the terrain but the road seemed unsuited for horses.

Curious by the sight, she crouched down to slide down the hill, one hand dug in the dirt as she steered her fall. Reaching the ground, she approached the road and kneeled to press a hand against the greyish white texture. It was rough, quick to harm a horse running at full speed for long distances and surely no mortal would walk on a road like this for days?

An odd sound seemed the thrum in the distance and she stepped away from the road, eyes drawn to the source of the noise. Her eyebrows shot up as she saw the strangest thing she'd ever seen her life. It was a blocky thing that was moving on wheels like a wagon but not - for even the wheels looked odd because they were so much larger and thicker. It moved without any indication of being pulled or push and unleashed a foul smell as it passed by her. The wagon was even carrying people who she could see through clear glass. They looked uninterested in their means of transportation and bored as though this was such an everyday activity it didn't deserve the awe Sheogorath felt seeing it now.

Before she could see if she could run as fast as that thing moved, she remembered herself and what quest she had given herself. The monster she had been tracking! She looked up at the hill she had jumped down from and found a good boulder to launch herself from. She sprinted at it, crouching down as she pushed up from her legs and carried herself with the momentum to sink her hands into the thick dirt. With skill harbored from years of practice and repetition, she easily scaled up the hill without a slip or tumble.

By the time she reached the top, a few more of those moving contraptions had zoomed by on the road and she grinned when it hit her that there were people in this world! They might be weird but at least they were here!

With a hop in her step, she went back to following the monster's trail well into the night.

Only to realize too late that the forest was too quiet and she hadn't spotted a single pink aura in miles. There was not even the tiny presence of insects to make the forest feel more alive than the animals. The wind was still and only the light of a thin crescent moon afforded her natural light to avoid.

Her heart stuttered in her chest as she realized she was about to be ambushed and she quickly ducked behind a tree to scope her surroundings. Then a cannon went off.

Sheogorath flattened herself on the ground, looking overhead for an iron ball to come crashing through the trees, but a few heartbeats later and there was nothing. Logic kicked in and she remembered how there was no source of water outside some river streams. Nothing big enough to hold a pirate ship.

She got back on her feet but stayed low, keeping her back close to the tree as her spell saw through the foliage for her and in every direction. The cost of such vision was the range but if this was the ambush she thought it was only a matter of time before she saw them.

The sound of more cannonballs echoed through the area, her ears ringing in protest, and the sound of what felt like a stampede alerted her to the incoming threat. She deactivated her spell the moment she pinpointed where they were coming from because the aura would completely conceal their appearance and become a hindrance to her.

She sacrificed her ability to detect the monster she had been tracking.

But at least her night vision served her well enough to see what was coming for her. Six massive dog-like creatures were making enough ruckus to sound like a hoard of daedroths. They were easily taller than her and their body was as wide as an ogre's belly.

If not for her spell she may not have been able to feel confident enough to fight them. Their fur looked course and black as ebony, their eyes as red as ruby gems, and their teeth gleaming white fangs that poked out of its lip. She cast the Aegis shield fist, the spell coating over her armor like a second layer of plates on her armor, and doubling its durability.

Sheogorath then focused on creating two powerful balls of fire, executing the motions painstakingly slow, and only her leveled head kept her from diverting her fire into a wall of defense. She breathed carefully, separating her hands as she widened her arms as far as she could reach, the fire in her hands quickly devouring the oxygen until they grew into the size of a goblin's head.

Fire in a forest was a recipe for disaster but as long as she made this quick, she could stop it from spreading to an uncontrollable degree. Just as the dogs were closing in she slapped her hands together then pushed them downwards into the ground. Instantly, the perimeter exploded into flames and the dogs were sent flying away from her with a piercing cry.

Suddenly, a dog was on her. She stumbled back when its razor long claws screeched against her armor. The dog fell at her feet and without a weapon in her hand, she quickly shot a bolt of lightning at it. The dog yelped as it was pierced through and seized violently as electric blue lightning coursed through it until it dropped dead at her feet.

She jumped several feet back, trying to figure out how the dog got the drop on her. The Breton watched two dogs covered in fur-singing flames running around in a panic ahead. The flickering fire of her attack was casting long shadows. If she hadn't been watching she wouldn't have witnessed one of the flaming dogs disappearing and reappearing in the shadows of her flames not two feet in front of her.

Startled, only her reflexes spared her from claws as she rolled to the side. Her forest fire had cost a lot of magicka, and conjuration was a costly source of magic, but she needed to create a diversion and split up the pack. Purple energy swirled around her fist before she pointed at the space in front of her, opening her palm to open the black portal as she called forth her creature.

The skull of a wolf chomped down on the neck of the dog closest to her, it's bone teeth digging deep as she shook his head hard, snapping the neck with a violent crack. The skinned hound bowed its head in submission to her before sprinting through the fires unharmed toward the remaining threats. Two down and two left between them.

Sheogorath unsheathed the black claymore of her shadowrend and prepared herself for the next attack.

A cannonball sounded behind her and she took a single step back before spinning around just in time to slam the pommel of her sword into its jaw. It cried out and collapsed at her feet, dazed. Sheogorath finished it with a violent jab through its spinal cord.

A cry echoed out in the distance but whether it was a massive dog or her hound was a mystery.

The sound of whistling air drew her attention, and she turned just in time for several projectiles to embed themselves in her shoulder instead of her chest. A strangled shout left her lips as agony blossomed out of her shoulder to encase her entire body.

"Poison," she gasped at the familiar feeling. The poison had been her specialty as an assassin. But this, this poison was as potent as the juice from a poisoned apple. But instead of instant death, it felt like an instant explosion of her nerves and spots coated her vision as she was drained of energy. It was hard enough just to keep her eyes open as the pain ripped through her body and made her feel like she was reliving her worst injuries all over again.

A jaw tried to clamp down on her shoulder, but her enchanted armor ensured its fangs merely screeched the metal as it slid off. Sheogorath moved to impale the dog when she realized she had dropped her blade at her feet and she didn't have the strength to pick it up. Her hands glowed green as she reached out and paralyzed the dog before its teeth could clamp down on her hand. The dog went rigid, it's crimson eyes locked on her own before it tilted over like he was made of stone.

Gritting her teeth, she found the will to press her hand against the paralyzed dog's head one more time to press an insidious dark purple spell into it. Its skull was crushed as she inflicted a major wound on mere touch but in return, she had almost completely exhausted her magicka.

She cursed.

"Mortals always think they are invincible," a familiar voice crooned as it made its presence known. Its stinger was swishing back and forth, side to side in a lethargic manner. The false god looked up from where she kneeled by the bodies of the dogs. A statement.

He seemed amused by her prowess.

"No matter how powerful you think yourself to be, in the end it's your own mortality that cripples you." He stalked toward her like a confident mountain lion. "My poison has left you in agony, unable to use your own strength to fight back... unable to do anything but scream as I rip you limb from limb. I will break your bones, clamp my jaw through your ribcage until your organs explode! You will suffer until you have lost your last ounce of blood."

Sheogorath frowned. Her targets also monologued when they thought they won.

Right before she killed them.

The monster trodded past the fire without hesitation, the flames wrapping around its body without catching on fire. She wondered if the creature was mocking her by showing how well she decimated the dogs with her magic but in comparison to him - the dogs were nothing.

Lightning sparked in warning from her fingertips regardless. The monster laughed as it looked down at her.

"I may not have tasted the flesh of gods, but I have feasted on your brethren for thousands of years. You are nothing against me."

Sheogorath raised her head tall despite the pain seizing through her. "You have not faced me before," she growled, her willpower alone lifting the handle of her blade back into her hands. She knew what she had to do. "I represent a part of you: I am the shadow in your mind, the obsession in your heart, the reflection you cannot see for yourself."

The whites of her eyes turned black as glowing yellow consumed blue.

She opened the door into her mind.

"I am the God of Madness!"

Instead of being hindered by the agony coursing through her veins, she got high off of it. Like she had gotten ahold of tree sap and drank several bottles of it. She laughed as the pain excited her, throwing her into memories of adrenaline and the fun of having her life on the brink of death.

Mushrooms sprouted from the ground and grew the size of Telvanni fungal spores. The monster leaped away from her as her hair went from pale blonde to ghastly white. A black and gold aura surrounded her as a personification of mania and dementia.

Thunder roared overhead and rain fell over them, quickly dampening the fire at the sudden downpour. Lightning crackled and scorched the ground where the monster stood. "You want recognition," her voice echoed with a masculine overtone. She laughed at him and the creature bristled at the mockery.

"Do you wish to be recognized? Recognized as something different? Or perhaps you want to recognize yourself?"

She rose to her feet, taking her sword to stab it in the ground before taking her duskfang in one hand and her dagger in the other.

"Perhaps time brought you to me to find your recognition!"

The monster roared at her in fury.

"God or not, I will feast on your man-flesh!"

Sheogorath sent a ball of golden light at one mushroom and a ball of black light at another. The black later created a disgusting creature with unsatiable Hunger while the white light transformed the mushroom into a deer - not unlike the one he had feasted on earlier.

The God of Madness pushed her ice into her blades creating jagged pieces of glass-like ice that would slice and bleed and freeze the wound until he couldn't move his limb any further. But when she reached him while the deer was hopping away with the monster trying to stab it with its tail and the hunger was quickly torn to shreds under its claws she found herself changing tactics. A mushroom sprouted underneath the monster's feet throwing it into the air with an angry croon. Sheogorath just laughed.

Spikes flew at her but she just spun around in a circle to deflect the projectiles. The manticore roared at her, he was done playing around. One moment he was on the other side of the clearing and in the next he was in front of her, moving to chomp down on her sword arm only to chew on a mushroom.

She spun around to slice at its ankles only for deep lacerations to turn out to be mere paper cuts against its skin. Sheogorath backed off, throwing down her swords in opposite directions as she pulled out her shield to take the defense.

A mushroom fell to the ground as the monster spit it out, his face now a mockery of a man's with a malicious grin too sharp and toothy to be anything but a monster's.

Sheogorath turned more mushrooms into creatures and animals until several bunny rabbits and skinned hounds were filling the distance between her and the monster

But it didn't waste any time with the summons.

The monster was on her again with its claws scraping against the metal of her shield, its maw opens wide as it went to clamp down on her only defense but she simply sent a puddle of frost under its feet causing it to lose its footing and slip under itself.

Sheogorath jumped back some more, creating distance between them. A forest of mushrooms quickly surrounded the clearing obscuring the forest so that the monster's focus would only be on her. By the time the monster was on her again, it had landed in a puddle had left behind from her thunderstorm and she didn't hesitate to send a stream of lightning at its feet.

The monster reared back on its hind legs, taking one and then two steps back until he was right where the god wanted him to be.

Before the monster could realize her intentions, she had shot her hand forward and pulled her abandoned blades toward her. She stood in the east, and the swords flew toward her from the north, the south, and the west. Oblivious to this, the monster leaped at her, and she was wide open.

But so was he.

The blades cut threw his tail stinger in a single blow, all three blades working together to remove his main weapon. The creature wailed in agony as dark purple liquid splattered unto the ground. In its pain, crippled by the injury, he had collapsed by her feet while his body writhed.

A wicked grin graced the god's expression, daedra eyes taking great enjoyment in the monster's pain. Slowly, lethargically, she removed the spikes still embedded in her shoulder one by one until she held them like throwing knives between her fingers.

"How does it feel to be recognized by neither a god nor man?" She asked, then threw one needle into its eye. Unlike its skin, the eye was vulnerable to the weapon, and it shrieked in greater agony than before. She smiled, crouching down beside it - in front of its especially dangerous teeth like it was no concern. Another needle sunk into its remaining eye until he was completely blind. She spun the remaining needle in her hand, her ivory skin now wet with purple poison.

She dropped her sword by her feet to lift both hands on either side of his head. "Let's see if your immune to your venom if it's injected in your brain!" A single push of telekinetic energy sank the needles through its eyes and into its brain in a single breath. The monster seized violently and then collapsed like a necromancer's doll. Dead.

"Awe, did the wittle bitty hybrid get killed by its prey?" She giggled. Her grin was so wide it was unnatural. A ball of gold and black fire flickered in her hands as she held the power of her madness in her hands. Something dripped off her chin, and her grin fractured when she pressed a hand against her cheek.

Memories flashed through her eyes in a frenzy she couldn't control.

Grey-green skin of her mentor and friend stood in front of her with his sword and shield hanging loosely in his hands. Eyes of self-loathing betrayed the person he once was as he begged her to kill him. She knew he was acting weirdly after she returned the diary to him. She knew he would have to die when they faced each other in the Arena, but she still respected him.

He called her a friend. In return, she broke his spirit with the truth and killed him when he was defenseless in the Arena. She wanted fame and recognition. When she finally had it, the other contestants lost their respect for her and her fans loved the image she projected in the arena. Not who she really was.

That same night Lucien Lachance confronted her with an invitation to join the dirtiest business in Tamriel. She accepted in the hope that she wouldn't need to project the cold-hearted killer in the arena - she would become that person.

Sheogorath collapsed, her tears turning black as her mortality was returned to her. The door closed with a slam and her madness withdrew to the darkest part of her soul. The pain returned full-throttle but Sheogorath barely felt it after unleashing her godly curse. She could hand over the symbol of her power to someone else but she couldn't transfer this power. No matter how much she wanted to get the god of madness out of her head.

Madness may have been a part of everyone, mortal or god, but in her, it was as endless as the void of Sithis. The Dark Brotherhood has been a prime source of her fractured mentality.

She was Sheogorath: the mortal who was given the position against her violation and forbidden from ever returning to her homeland. She was not the God of Madness: the deity that brought out the worst in people gave them the truth that breaks them with great joy, whose hobbies were torture and taking pleasure in others' pain. Someone who could easily destroy thousands of lives without a single care.

It was a constant battle to not let that side of herself come out. Now, barely a day into a new world, and she had already opened that door. She scrubbed off her tears and set fire to the remains of the god of madness. Her tears, the mushrooms, and the beings she had conjured were all burned into ashes. Ashes that disappeared when her magic took care of her godly remains.

When the clearing had returned to normal but all but the puddles of rain and the earth that her fire had consumed before putting out, she looked to the monster she had slain and was surprised to see it gone.

Where the monster had been, there was a neatly rolled-up golden pelt that had greatly resisted her magic and weapon attacks. Sheogorath tried not to question the logic of this world and instead tucked it inside her knapsack. It would make for a good shawl to protect her against her cold. Maybe she could add it to her rain cloak?

She shrugged, choosing to think about it later. Then winced when the movement jarred her open wounds. The poison seemed to be wearing off but it had lasted long enough to leave her particularly suspectable to madness. She needed to avoid any more of these monsters in the future.

When she moved to check the dogs, she found their bodies in the same state. There were six dogs, and in comparison to the pelt of the lion-like monster, their remains were less than impressive. She picked up a crimson eye.

There was no way she would chew on this, but she was certain it still had alchemic properties. There was a paw with its claws still intact, a tongue, a handful of fangs, and a still-beating heart. Her alchemy bag became a little fuller, and she resolved to experiment with what she found the next time she set up camp.

She was still injured and she needed to treat the poison because there are probably other effects outside the agony. But most of all, she needed to find a human civilization that she now knew was here.

Sheogorath felt like the prisoner back in the Imperial City when she was first released. Her rescuer dead in the tunnels with a prophecy and a promise from her to find his son and close shut the jaws of oblivion. She felt so lost. But she knew her duty.

And now, she was needed here.

This fic is pure self-indulgence. A low-effort means of getting my mind off things, and if someone happens to enjoy reading this along with its creation, then all the better! (Seriously, I'm making this up as I go!)

On that note, I hope you enjoyed reading this and look forward to staying tuned.

- GR

Credits

"Hide nothing, for time, which sees all and hears all, exposes all." and "To live without evil belongs only to the gods." - Sophocles

The Manticore is a little different from the one in the Percy Jackson series. It is a mixture of Harry Potter's manticore, and a little lore tossed in from Wikipedia. There's gonna be a lot of changes in Percy Jackson's universe so that it's a little more... let's say connected to lore. And realistic consequences. Hopefully, it will be interesting even so.

I tried not to bore anyone with Oblivion facts and magic. If it's a little off-lore, I'll have you know the Elder Scrolls has an extensive one. Feel free to offer constructive advice if you think I got my facts mixed up, but remember if it's not to your liking, feel free to exit my story. There are plenty of stories provided by the fandoms.