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donnetellotheturtle · 9 months ago

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Prophet of Valdre W.I.P

Soriva groaned as they sewed up their own wound. The blood had already gotten through their shirt, and they were already feeling lightheaded. Maybe from the long journey from Galores temple combined with the bleeding.

Once it was fully sewed, they snapped the string with their teeth, and put away their medical equipment.

The wind snow and ice whipped outside of the cave. Their small fire crackled. It wouldn’t last the night at this rate. But they couldn’t risk braving the storm to get more. They sighed softly, unsure what to do.

Great. Two months without Galore, and they were going to freeze to death.

They set their head against the cave wall. Might as well try to get some sleep.

They were in pain. Red hair fell on their face as they breathed heavily. The chains kept their arms bound outward, thwarting any tries of escape. The whip snapped against their back again.

“I will cast the darkness out of you.”

They cried out in pain.

“I will save you for Galore.”

Another snap. They sobbed. A hand grabbed their face roughly, forcing them to look at pure white eyes.

“Our holy pain will save you, child.” The head priest-no cultist, said. The tears dripped down Sorivas face without their permission. The shaky breaths were not out of fear but pure pain. They glared silently. They wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of hearing their voice.

The scene changed suddenly. They were running. Long teal hair whipping around as they tried to find their way through the storm they had gotten caught in.

“Help!” They called. The voice was not their own, but one that was extremely familiar. An arrow whizzed by their ear, drawing blood from their cheek. Turning, there was an archer dressed in complete white, nearly blending into the storm if it wasn’t for Galores symbol in the center. A white lily flower, outlined in gold.

They knew this archer never missed on accident. Especially not this close to his target.

They were jolted awake by yelling. Not far from the cave. It sliced through the screaming wind. Soriva picked up their sword and ran out without a second thought.

The woods were covered in white but Soriva saw them. A nymph like themselves on the ground with a bleeding cheek, the red dripping into the snow. And the archer or Galore obviously sent to kill them.

The archer notched another arrow and aimed it at the nymph who scooted back. “no…please!”

Soriva ran in as the archer let loose the arrow. Their sword cut through it and darkness spread from their feet. They reached out a hand and the archer was pulled to their knees, arms behind their back in magical binds. He glared at Soriva, who turned to the other nymph.

They paused. Their face was familiar. Their former betrothed. He was staring up at them with fear wonder anger and sadness all at once.

“…Zavi.”

Zavi swallowed hard. “I…”

Soriva offers a hand. “Lets go. Those binds won’t last forever.”

After a moment, Zavi nodded, and grabbed their hand, being pulled up.

“Don’t say a word. If you try anything, I’ll kill you myself.” Soriva said, venom dripping from every word. Zavi said nothing, for once. Usually he talked without end. Usually about himself.

Soriva led him back to the cave, where the fire was still crackling. Zavi shivered and warmed his hands as Soriva created a barrier for themselves as well as a proper disguise. They took a shaky breath, loosing their footing for a moment. Black spots speckled in their eyes.

Too much magic on top of the blood loss. Great.

“Are you alright?” Zavi asked.

Soriva turned and scowled, then stalked up to him, putting their sword to his throat. “I am fine.”

Zavi just nodded, putting his hands up in an effort not to get stabbed. Soriva took a deep breath and sat down, sword still close to their side in case he tried anything.

It was silent save for the crackling of the fire for a couple minutes.

“…Soriva.”

They looked at him with heavy eyes.

“Thank you.”

They opened their eyes a bit more, looking at him. This was the first time they’d actually looked at him. Teal hair. He didn’t have that before. As the chosen, his hair used to be pure white with pure white eyes…eyes they used to have.

But his eyes were deep blue now. Almost green. Soriva looked over his arms. Whipping wounds that had old blood through his clothes. Just like theirs.

“…What happened?” Soriva asked. “Last I saw you, you were trying to convince me to stay.”

“I could ask you the same thing…I see you’ve cut your hair.”

“That’s not an answer.”

Zavi folded in on himself. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Soriva recognized that look. The look of sadness and fear and the want to let the storm take them. They came over to his side, sword still held close if he pulled a dagger.

“…whips?”

Zavi just nodded.

“Me too.”

Zavi, to Sorivas surprise, looked regretful and sad. Soriva had never seen him look that. Always prideful and perfect. Not now though. “…Im so sorry. If I had known what would happen I-“

“You wouldn’t have done anything.” Soriva said. “Youre only sorry because it happened to you too. I tried to tell you. But you wouldn’t listen. So don’t sit here and act like you’d change anything.”

Zavi opened his mouth to argue. Then shut it with a defeated noise.

“…You’re exhausted.” Zavi said instead.

“I said im fine.”

“Rive, I know you. How long have you been awake?”

“None of your business!”

Zavi moved back at the sword coming to his throat again. Soriva scowled.

“Don’t pretend to care about me.”

“Okay…” Zavi moved back. “How about I don’t want the one person who actually still has magic and a pointy sword to defend with to pass out?”

Soriva opened their mouth to retort, then sighed softly, dropping the sword. “Fair enough…wait, still has magic?”

Zavi bit his lip. “…Yeah. Funny story. When you leave Galore without switching gods like you…well, you’re left extremely week…loose the hair color too…”

“That explains the teal…”

“Look, I know you hate me. But you can search me for weapons. I don’t have any. I want to survive. Obviously you do too. We stand a better chance if you can defend us.”

Soriva hated that he had a point.

“How do I know you won’t stab me in the back first chance you get?”

Zavi shrugged. “I can’t promise that I won’t. But I can promise that it won’t be tonight. Not when I need your magic. Not when I need your skill. Those guys are relentless and won’t stop until they kill me. And now that they know you’re alive…kill you too. Like it or not, I need you.”

Soriva rubbed her forehead. They were exhausted. There was apart of them that worried that this was a trick. Then they looked at Zavi’s face. He was terrified.

“….Okay.” They walked to the farthest end of the cave, making a sort of bubble for themselves. It would ensure that nothing would harm them while they slept. The spots in their eyes got bigger, nearly overtaking their vision before they laid fully down.

They let themselves rest.

When they woke up, the storm had passed, the moon and stars shining into the cave. It was comforting. They looked over, seeing Zavi had fallen asleep on his end of the cave, shivering.

The fire had gone out but at least now they could search for wood.

A shadow appeared on the wall over Zavi, It was humanoid, with what looked like three pairs of bat wings going down their back. Silver eyes stared down at him. Soriva didn’t need to be told that this was Valdre. Their god. The one who had saved them.

“Valdre.”

The shadow moved across the wall, over them. The darkness felt like being covered in a warm blanket.

“Hello child.” They said in a whisper.

Soriva smiled. “Where have you been?”

“Organizing things on my end.” Valdre smiled. “I’ve arranged safe passage for you through the shadowed woods with Balknor.”

Soriva smiled wider. “Thank you.”

“who is your friend?”

Soriva groaned. “Hes no friend.”

“Nevertheless, who is he?”

“Zavi. My ex betrothed and by the look of it, Ex chosen.”

“I see…what is he doing here?”

“Saved him from some of Galores archers. I don’t trust him though.”

“You said he was Ex chosen?”

Soriva nodded.

“Then he’s like you. Without divine intervention.”

Soriva rolled their eyes. “Hes also the one who sold me out. He’s the one who wanted so badly to be the chosen that he was willing to send me to be whipped. Hes the one w-“

“Soriva.”

They looked to their god.

“I understand you are angry. I would be too. But you are not the only one in pain.”

“So im supposed to what? Forgive him? Trust him?”

“No. He could very well be tricking you. He could stab you in the back…but, I encourage you to understand.”

“Understand?”

“To open your mind beyond your own. You have never been alone…hes been alone all his life. Never more so than now.”

“That doesn’t make the shit he did okay.”

“I never said it did. Abuse is a chain. You broke the chain. I would encourage you not to reforge it because of your own pain. Even if he did hurt you.”

Soriva thought about their God’s words. Maybe they had been a little short.

“You don’t have to be kind. You don’t have to trust him. You don’t have to reach out for him. That’s all work he needs to do. All you need to do, is not create a new chain.”

Soriva nodded. “Thank you, Valdre.”

She could practically feel his smile. They stood, and stretched.

“I will be by your side for now on. May the stars guide your path.”

Soriva knew that prayer was extremely literal. They moved over and shook Zavi, who shot awake, eyes wild and afraid as he yelled out.

“it’s just me, dipshit.” Soriva said.

Zavi stared at them. “….Soriva….sorry.”

“Lets get moving. Galores men don’t travel through the night.” They stood and offered a hand. Zavi slowly took it and was pulled up. Soriva pulled on their small backpack with the medical kit and small amount of rations they had left. They’d have to hunt for food in the forest.

Zavi didn’t say anything as they led the way out of the cave, looking around for anything that could hurt them. The night was silent except for the firefrogs.

The two traveled in silence towards the woods.

“…Where are we going?” Zavi asked after a couple minutes.

“the shadowed woods. Valdre has made a path for us.”

“…He would do that?” Zavi asked in disbelief. “Gods…gods don’t mettle in our affairs.”

“To every God their own, I guess…” Soriva shrugged. “I’ve learned a lot in the few months I’ve been out here.” They held out a hand upwards, measuring the stars. They nodded.

“What are you doing?”

“Way finding. Valdre taught me.”

“He taught you?”

Soriva looked at him with a chuckle. “pretty cool right?”

“But…but with most gods-“

“Not most gods.” Soriva interrupted. “Through prophets like me, they can effect the world.”

“Youre a prophet? That means you’re a chosen.”

Soriva shrugged. “Not really. You were chosen by people to serve a purpose. I was asked by a God if I wanted out of that place. No strings attached. If I wanted to leave at any time, I could…but hes…” Soriva looked for the words. “…Comfortable? I guess? He feels safe.”

“…Galore felt safe once…”

Soriva paused, opening their mouth to tell him off.

“He doesn’t anymore.” Zavi clarified. “Not for me anyway. Maybe no God ever will again.”

Soriva was unsure what to say to that. They couldn’t imagine a world that didn’t have Valdre in it now. He was a good friend and a constant companion. They didn’t know how they would have done this alone.

“Soriva?” Zavi asked.

They looked over.

“Are you sure you can trust Valdre?”

Soriva nodded. “With my life.”

“…then I guess, for the time being, I will too.”

Soriva looked at their feet. “Youre different.”

“…That’s what being cast out does, I guess.”

“No I mean, you’re quieter. Not a total ass. Not-“

“prissy and perfect and unable to do anything wrong as I was the example for everyone else being the chosen?”

Soriva nodded.

Zavi chuckled. “…I was miserable. And I guess I took it out on you…sorry.”

Soriva looked into Zavi’s eyes. He was genuine. Valdres words rang in their mind.

“I didn’t know you were miserable.”

He chuckled. “Truth be told? Neither did I…until…you left. In a way, you saved me.”

Soriva was speechless. Zavi walked forward, not saying anymore.

Then they got to the entrance of the forest.

There was no turning back.

#my writing #prophet of Valdre #my oc stuff #my oc #my ocs #my story #soriva #Zavi #valdre

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vampire-kaelthas · 5 years ago

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spill the tea about them half dragon ocs!!

ok so like this is gonna be longish I guess because there is 3: Seline, Nikoli, and Kilana.

Seline

Both her parents are Imperials, from the Imperial City. They ran a small book shop, which helped Seline become the booknerd she in. She was not born with the horns, scales, or tail. When she was about 14, she noticed her skin started to feel weird. Her parents just assumed it was dry, and it would fix itself. But it didn’t. It got worse. It started to turn into scales, first slowly, then what seemed like overnight. It went from her shoulders all the way down to her fingertips, around her torso, up her neck and around her face. She was devastated. She already was pretty lonely, but this didn’t make it any better.

The Tail started growing next. It wasn’t over night, but it was within a month. Same with the Horns. Seline just stayed in long robes, tucking the tail away so no one would see when she went outside. She kept a hood on to shade her face, but it got harder and harder with the horns. When she was 17, she looked like how she does now. Scales over most of her body, a long tail, and large horns. She left home with some money her parents had saved for her over the years. She left for Skyrim, to join the College of Winterhold, and to find answers.

Kilana

Kilana had nord parents, born and raised in the woods of Falkreath. They had a house in the woods, next to the Lake. She had a normal childhood, hunting with her father, cooking with her mother. Once a week they would head into town to pick up whatever they needed and get lunch at the inn.

It all changed when she was about 20. She had gotten back from a hunt with Valdr and a few friends. When she arrived home, it was dead quiet. Too quiet. There was none of her mothers singing, no loud laughter from her father. It was dead silent. She walked into her parents when she saw them, or at least, what was left of them. She went back to town to tell her friends, and to tell Runil she would need a burial service soon. She cleaned the house and left, traveling skyrim picking up bounties, earning enough gold to stay in a tavern a few days at a time.

Her Dragon Looks didn’t show until later. She had been traveling back to whiterun after taking care of a cave of bears down in the mountains when she heard an earth rumbling roar. A dragon. Heading right towards the Watchtower. Then it just fell down. She couldn’t tell if it was magic or the dragon crashed into it or what. But something in her blood, it started to sing. Something in her told her to go over there, that maybe soon her days of drinking her emptiness away might be gone. So she did. She ran all the way to the watch tower, and helped take him down with arrows. When the dragon fell to the ground, the earth shook with the impact, then, the dragon seemed to glow. Kilana fell into a trance, standing right up and slowly walking towards it. She walked up to its head and placed her palm on the head. Everything seemed to glow, her and the dragon. When the glowing stopped she was different, in looks and physique. Before, she was thin from not eating much. Now, she was built with muscle that made her look powerful. But the biggest change was the dragon aspects. She had long curling black horns, that seemed so black they absorbed the light. A black tail, thin compared to the rest of her body. And the scales on her went from her neck to her fingertips, up across her forehead. The scales were also a greenish black. She looked like power. She was a Dragonborn.

Nikoli

Nikoli was born to an Elven father and a Nord mother. But when he was born, he had the scales and the tail, with the horn growing in when he was a few weeks old. Of course, his nord family blamed his father, and cursed the elf. His mother told him to leave and never come back, which he did. He said good bye to his son, only a few months old, and made a vow to see him once again.

Nikoli and his mother lived in seclusion in the Mountains between Falkreath and Bruma. Occasionally, his mothers family would make it out there to say hi, and to catch them up on whats been happening throughout Tamerial. On his 12th birthday, Nikoli woke up not to a birthday cake and a gift (he had been wanting a fancy hunting knife, to go with the bow his mom had), but to his mom packing. She simply told him to pack his clothes and whatever else he wanted into a backpack, and they left the house, never looking back.

Within a week and a half, they arrived in Rorikstead. It was passed midnight, so the tavern was pretty empty. Nikoli was half asleep, but he does remember his mother hugging him one last time saying “I love you, no matter what you hear”. And left him there with Erik and Mralki.

Nikoli and Erik were inseparable from day one. Erik had been lonely, with only becoming friends with people who traveled and never stayed for long, and Nikoli had never had a friend. The only people he really knew was his family. They end up as lovers, and when Erik turns 19, him and Nikoli leave Rorikstead to travel as mercenaries.

#oc:seline #oc:kilana ebon-talon #oc:nikoli #long post #tes #tes ocs

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