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  Once upon a time, long ago way before the Era known to be First (Merethic Era), lived a man, a Nord whose name history has forgotten, or erased, or became forbidden. No one knows, no one lived till the day to know…… Maybe some did but who would know? Looking after names in this story is not that useful anyway so let’s keep going with the story.

  Like all Nords, he was a Northman that came from Skyrim. He came from Saarthal from old Winterhold and no need for me to tell you about Saarthal or Winterhold, the first City and Kingdom of mankind on Tamriel, the home of Ysgramor himself.

  In his years as a boy, he showed talent to the Clever Craft, to Magic, a talent good enough to make his tutors be all in awe. As he became an Adult, there was no one to teach him more in Saarthal. The path of Magic was the highest honor to Nords back then and he had to leave his Wife and Child to learn the Elven Masters.

  A year became two and two became three. Finally, the road let him back to Saarthal after the events of the Night of Tears. What he found was the city in ashes…… Ashes upon ashes upon ashes…… it was madness, it was grief, it was what bring men to their knees and make tears flow rivers from their eyes.

  A heart, broken! A home, burned! A wife, slaughtered! A child, beheaded!

  Tell me…… what can a man do with all that and what would all that do to a man?

  Simply a man can exist no more…… a man can only be broken after losing everything. No honor to stand for. No love to cling on. No mercy to spare.

  Yes!

  No mercy to spare……

  The man walked among the ashes and stumbled upon a mask. It is…… or was the mask of the Old Priest of Saarthal.

  The man looked down at the mask and the mask looked back at him. Amidst the ashes of Saarthal and in the middle of all that destruction, madness was born. One man knelt down, he put away his shame and pain but above all he put away his name, he then picked up something all new and become someone else…… became something else.

  Who have knelt down as a man, rose up as Ahzidal, the Bitter Destroyer.

  Amid the ashes, in the smoldering ruins of his home, he swore an oath, a terrible but mighty oath, he swore vengeance against all the Snow Elves. Those who sacked Saarthal and those who did not, none shall survive the wrath of Ahzidal.

  But he knew the limits of his prowess and knew how strong the Snow Elves are, he was no pushover. He alone can do nothing but what a thing can Ahzidal do better other than collecting knowledge and casting magic?

  He walked out of Saarthal one man against the world with a mask, a cane and the shade of a thousand ghost haunting his nightmares.

  He walked the land and met the Dwemer (Dwarves) of the Deep, he talked to them and learned what they teach, he learned the Seven Natures of Metal and how to harmonize them.

  He walked the land and met the Ayleid (Heartland Elves) of Cyrodiil, he talked to them and learned what they teach, he learned the ancient runes and the Dawn Magic even the elves had begun to forget.

  He walked the land and met the Chimer (Changed Ones) of Morrowind, he talked to them and learned what they teach, he learned the ways of the Fire and the Flames and was labeled a genius.

  He walked the land and met the Falmer (Snow Elves) of the North, he talked to them and learned what they teach, he learned their code and their secret languages to understand what great knowledge they hid.

  He walked the land and met the Altmer (High Elves) of Summer Set, he talked to them and learned what they teach, he learned the Elder Way and how to handle Magic to its truest potential.

  With that, he gathered all that he can learn from the Elves all while plotting how he might turn that knowledge against them.

  Still, he was alone.

  But not for long as word came that Ysgramor landed north of Skyrim with his 500 Companions newly arrived from Atmora to avenge Saarthal and that’s all Ahzidal needed.

  For three days and nights, he rode north. He met Ysgramor and his Men as they made landfall on the icy coast near the ruins of Saarthal, witnessing the grand event of the ’Return’.

  When Ahzidal arrived, he saw Ysgramor riding on a Storm Atronach Bear holding the Wuuthrad on his shoulder killing a hundred beasts to make a funeral. Ysgramor and the Companions were mourning as one of the ships didn’t arrive and was destroyed in the Storm of Seperation. That ship was under the command of Ysgramor’s oldest son, Yngol.

  Here where Ahzidal became a priceless asset to the Atmorans. You see…… Yngol son of Ysgramor was a cunning commander and a great leader with great potential. He also was the greatest blacksmith of all the Companions and he forged Wuuthrad from the tears of Ysgramor…… if you want to believe that…… Now, it was the time for Ahzidal to shine. He offered his services to King Ysgramor and promised all he had produced in his years of labor.

  The Snow Elves fortified themselves on the Ruins of Saarthal but with the Atmoran Steel imbued with Ahzidal’s enchantments, the Snow Elves were no match for the Companions.

  With that, the oath of the Bitter Destroyer was fulfilled.

  Yet, in his lust for vengeance and power, Ahzidal became ever more corrupted and he eventually fell to madness and became obsessed with Enchanting and Knowledge more and more. His craft had become his life and his hunger for knowledge still gnawed at him, driving him to delve ever deeper. At long last, he exhausted the lore of the elves, but it was not enough. He couldn’t find more to quench his thirst but the most sacred runes of them all, the Dragon Runes.

  At that time, the Atmorans and the Nords worshipped the Dragons and pursuing the path was not that hard. Men haven’t learned the Thu’um yet and there were no Greybeards or anything of the sort. Eventually, Ahzidal’s path led him to the Dragon Cult and he won himself a seat among their high priests, still, it was not enough. And at length, he turned his gaze to the planes of Oblivion and found there both power and madness at which point he subsequently caught the attention of the Daedric Prince of Knowledge and Fate, Hermaeus Mora. He later became a follower of Miraak and fled to Solstheim only to be sealed away by the Dragon Cult within the depths of Kolbjorn Barrow together with the last of his relics, and the once great human became forgotten by history.

  Well well, was that all?

  Of course not!

  Ahzidal still had one last role to play but let’s come to that later.

  The life as a sealed away Dragon Priest was probably not what Ahzidal signed up for, he hungered for power to the point he became a Dragon Priest and that kind of priests is not what one want to be a long life friend with.

  You see…… In exchange for servitude, Dragon Priests were granted immortality by their Dragon Master. As timeless as they are, Dragons for sure can make one immortal as they are beings of Time and the children of Akatosh, the Dragon God of Time.

  So to speak, being sealed with the effect of immortality probably sucks. Ahzidal became a husk of what he used to be especially after the Dragon Wars where all the Dragon Cult got wiped out from the face of Nirn.

  All the dragon priests including Ahzidal were facing mutual problems like dried up skin and their clothes turning to rags but also a considerable amount of power above all that, and the routine…… just thinking of it is sickening. Every day, a different set of draugr would awaken, shamble their way to the sarcophagus of the priest, and prostrate themselves before it. Several hours of this, followed by a meticulous cleaning of the area.

  Everyday!

  Over and over again!

  Put that aside for now, Ahzidal was facing a serious problem with leakage lately as it seemed that a lot of ash was leaking from the surface and under his seal, he could only move his draugrs around.

  But today, today was different! It was a joyous day as some fools managed to break through the tomb and reached the sealing chamber.

  Ahzidal lost the track of time for how many years he was sealed but it wouldn’t be a problem for long. As soon as these greedy mortals come in, he will gain control over one of them and command him to kill the others making a blood sacrifice to undo the seal.

  Just as they went in, a strong magical interference blocked his illusions from affecting them. It was troublesome but given enough time, he would be able to do so. These mortals were too busy looking around for treasures it seems.

  He really tried to gain control over and over but for some reason, that staff in the hand of the red-haired man was blocking all illusions. A unique kind of artifact it seemed.

  More to that, the red-haired man stood near the sealing circle in the middle of the room.

  "By the right of birth, I remove the seal."

  The man spoke these words in the Dragon Tongue cut his own finger to let a drop of blood fall on the sealing circle.

  Ahzidal was not capable of mocking or laughing but to say such laughable words like ’Right of Birth’.……

  Only Miraak has that right.

  Strange enough, the runes around the circle lit up in red and the room started to shake. Jon gave the sign to retreat and everyone into formation.

  A red pillar of light shone above the center of the sealing circle and a strong Magicka was released. Ahzidal felt that the power of the seal was removed and finally he could go free. He rose through the air with his power and broke out of the old shackles that kept him a prisoner for many years, as he went out, a strong roar came from deep within and and a strong shock wave came out with it.

  He looked down on Jon on his companions with the intention of claiming their petty souls to regain his power. In front of him was Jon carrying both the Staff of Sheogorath and the Skull of Corruption, Wulfur carrying a hammer and a shield, Alina wielding a sword in a hand and a Sun Spell on the other, Jullanar with a spear in a hand and a buckler in the other, Bjorna with the greatsword Stormfang in her hands and finally Nefertiti who expanded to her Beast Form.

  Ahzidal wasn’t impressed and and waved his hands to fly higher in the room and sealed its door too. Then all the Draugr in the room started pushing the covers of their sarcophaguses and walked out to surround Jon and his crew.

  Jon sneered and waved his two staves at the same time conjuring many undead in a remarkably short amount of time, the void started distorting all around the room and they heavily armored Wraithmen started appearing from everywhere. Now that Jon is an Expert Mage in Mysticism, Destruction and Conjuration, he was having no trouble summoning a big number of those undead minions at one.

  Ahzidal seemed offended and cast a Flame Cloak spell around himself then aimed his first attack at Jon.

  "Don’t look down on me!" Jon reacted to Ahzidal and decided to go with Flame Spells too.

  Two bright flames appeared atop his staves and he fired at Ahzidal while taking the lead.

  Bjonra and Jullanar started eliminating the undead on the Draugrs on the left while Wulfur and Nefertiti took the left and Alina took the rear supporting with Healing, Wards and Sun Spells.

  Jon was on the lead as usual and Ahzidal started restoring to him. They both started to dish out generously spells at each other not caring for their Magicka at all.

  A Fireball followed another and both cast Wards to fend of the attacks. A draugr broke through the defense formation of Jon’s undead but Jon simply intercepted it with a forward kick destroying its skull.

  Jon was also using the Ashen Flames to confront Ahzidal, these flames were higher in quality to the Flame Magic used by Ahzidal but the old the magic of the Dragon Priest was still powerful.

  In this confrontation of Magicka, one of the two has to fall of short and run from Magicka first, and that was Jon.

  The Dragon Priest had a very incredible Energy Line that was mostly connected with an outer realm, Ahzidal’s power of regaining Magicka has far surpassed Jon.

  Still, Jon wasn’t scared. He would be scared if that fight happened more than a week ago but today it was still manageable.

  "ALL-MAKER!" Jon shouted the prayer to the all maker and a blue light involved him like a glowing pulp. Magicka from all over the place started to gather towards his direction at a fast pace putting him back to full Magicka and still kept going.

  Ahzidal was not in his best conditions but Jon’s sudden empowerment made him feel a bit pressured. He cast a Ward to fend off Jon for now and started raising the fallen draugr to fight for him once again.

  "Alina!"

  "On it!"

  It was Alina’s turn to confront Ahzidal and she started a race against him to raise more undead. She was in all aspects weaker than Ahzidal and to every Draugrs he raised she would raise one or two at best.

  Jon wasn’t standing idle as he healed himself and summoned more Wraithmen at the same time, he was regaining the lost in his troops as quickly as he could and started equalizing the fight once again.

  The circular room was becoming more chaotic with undead fighting each other here and there and bone fragments were flying everywhere.

  "Goddammit! There are too many of them!"

  "Hold still."

  The circle around Jon was growing lesser and lesser as the Draugr in this room were all the strongest servants of Ahzidal and he himself was fighting alongside them, the Wraithmen were being destroyed faster than anticipated.

  "Alina!"

  "A bit more!"

  Alina raising the undead on the enemies team made it a bit chaotic but still, it was fruitless to fight that horde under Ahzidal’s command.

  "Done!"

  Alina said and threw the staff in her hand towards Jon who threw the Staff of Sheogorath towards her and a wide grin appeared on their faces.

  He commanded all the undead that Alina rose to attack Ahzidal all at once without caring about the other Draugrs.

  A total of eleven draugrs followed Jon’s commands and jumped at Ahzidal who wasn’t even going to consider any attacks of such small fries but he didn’t have to be worried of them, he had to be worried of what Jon cast just now.

  Jon aimed at the eleven draugr he commanded and cast ’Corpse Explosion’.

  This was by no mean an ordinary spell, turning a corpse into a bomb meant turning it into something as powerful as a frag grenade…… let alone eleven of them.

  "Now!"

  Alina and Jon cast telekinesis one each hand grabbed their four teammates away from the front where the explosion was about to take place and……

  *Boom*

  A shattering feeling was felt through the room as the draugrs around Ahzidal exploded and dust covered all over the place.

  A few seconds later, the dust settled to uncover an unexpected scene.

  Jon falling his knees with many wounds on his body. Behind him was not Alina but Ahzidal. In front of him was his whole crew that seemed to not be harmed.

  It was not Ahzidal’s doing actually it was Jon who turned around.

  A few seconds ago when Jon detonated the draugrs, he had to pull Wulfur and Nefertiti then cast a spell to block the explosion shock wave but his timing was off…… he had to block it with his back.

  As that’s was Jon’s state, then Ahzidal’s was far worse. A hand was lost and it lost all of its draugrs. Jon really made a cunning move but it had to cost him a bit.

  "……Jo-Jorna." Jon called for Bjorna and she woke up from her shock.

  "All-Maker!" She prayed to the All-Maker and her ability ’Waters of Life’ was activated. All her allies around her were healed in a few seconds.

  As his body was healing, the bone fragments started to fall from Jon’s exposed skin. He was lucky that Savior’s Hide armor was really good against magic.

  "You fucking idiot!" Wulfur was enraged but he knew better not to lose his focus from the enemy.

  Jon smiled wryly and didn’t reply.

  Ahzidal seemed to have been weakened greatly but the power of the explosion has simply made its goal. The Dragon Priest was having problems channeling its Magicka even to his intact hand.

  Jon looked at Ahzidal and puffed cleared his voice

  "YOL TOOR SHUL." (Fire, Inferno, Sun)