#hok!nyx au

[carminite-wyrm]

Hero-of-Kvatch!Nyx AU, Part 3

(Yes, I've finally gotten around to writing the next instalment of this particular AU!)

Part 1 | Part 2

In which Nyx starts the main quest, finally gets out of the sewers, and finds an old friend.

In the aftermath, Nyx and Baurus sat against one of the walls, both of them decidedly looking anywhere in the bloody room other than the cooling corpse of Uriel Septim VII.

“…I’ve failed…” Baurus murmured, staring at one of the puddles of blood seeping from an assassin. The man looked, and sounded, haggard, as if he wished he were the one lying dead on the ground, instead of the one he had been sworn to protect.

Nyx honestly sympathised.

“You did your best.” Nyx managed to say, as he awkwardly laid a hand on Baurus’ shoulder. “You tried, and even if you failed, even if there were some bad calls, you did what you could. I don’t really know anything about this world, or what’s been happening, but I know that your Emperor wouldn’t want you to walk around like you’re the one who died.”

He tried to make his words sound as comforting as possible, but also respectful of the duty he assumed Baurus had held himself responsible for, and the loss the other man had experienced. Nyx himself was…unhappy, even though he had only known Emperor Uriel Septim for maybe a grand total of twenty minutes. Baurus was probably experiencing the exact same emotions Nyx had when he had watched Regis die, and unlike Nyx, Baurus didn’t have an immediately greater worry (such as a murderous traitor commander and a Princess he needed to protect) to sideline the realisation that the man he had sworn to protect was dead.

Come to think of it, Nyx hadn’t even really had the opportunity to properly process the fact that he had died, on top of everything else he’d gone through in the past 24 hours. He had actually died, and all that came of his sacrifice was being flung into an unfamiliar world where he had to watch once again as someone died in front of those who were meant to protect them. He didn’t even know how things had turned out back in Eos. Had Libertus even managed to get Luna out of the city, and safely to the Prince? Nyx imagined his friend had succeeded, considering the main threats of Glauca and the massive daemon superweapons had been dealt with by Nyx, but still, there was a small part of him that worried.

Worried that his sacrifice had been for nothing, and that he was now even further away from being able to help the people of his home world. Worried that even in another world, he would still be unable to protect anyone. Hadn’t he failed to protect Baurus’ Emperor, even though he had been right there?

Nyx tore himself away from that train of thought, instead forcefully turning his attention back to where Baurus had finally calmed down a bit.

“I hate to admit that you’re right.” Baurus finally sighed, getting to his feet. “I’ll…oh shit.”

He frantically moved over to the Emperor’s body, his movements suddenly panicked once more.

“Where is the Amulet of Kings?!”

“He gave it to me. Before he died.”

Baurus turned to look at Nyx in shock, pausing in his mildly amusing attempts to search the dead Emperor’s pockets without actually disturbing the body in any noticeable way.

“He did what?”

Nyx reached into his pocket, and held out the Amulet. Baurus stared incredulously at him, and Nyx shrugged. Wasn’t his idea, after all. The Emperor really had just given the Amulet to him, answered a few of his questions, and then raised several more. Nyx really wasn’t going to focus upon those questions for the moment, however, because he’d had enough of powerful bloodline-tied magic for a lifetime and then some. Slowly immolating from borrowed power once was one time too many, in his opinion. Not that he’d refuse to do something like that again if the price was worth it, if the only other option was to watch everything he cared for burn and die, of course, but Nyx would rather that they didn’t get to that point again anytime soon. Preferably never.

“I…see.” Baurus looked out over the rest of the chamber, and the room beyond, where the other corpses of friend and foe alike lay. “The Emperor must’ve seen something in you. I don’t know what, but I…am willing to trust in it. I don’t know what we’re going to do now though, the Amulet is but a trinket without one of the Dragon’s Blood to wield it.”

“The Emperor asked me to bring it to some guy named Jauffre? Apparently there’s a hidden son that only that guy knows where to find, so I don’t think you’re out of luck just yet.” Nyx shrugged awkwardly at Baurus’ incredulous glare.

“You didn’t think to lead with that?!”

“I was a little preoccupied with the whole ‘failed to save someone, again’ part.”

“…Fair.” Baurus sighed, reaching into his pocket and holding out a key for Nyx. “Here’s the key to the sewers. You’ll be able to exit that way, it’s where we were trying to get to originally. Jauffre is the Grandmaster of my order, he should be in Weynon Priory. Tell him what has transpired here.”

“You’re not coming?” Nyx inquired, reaching for his shortsword, as he prepared to continue onwards.

“No, I’ll…stay here, make sure the bodies are…properly taken care of. And make sure that anyone else who comes either knows what happened, or is dealt with.” Baurus nodded, resting one hand on where he had two other katanas on his belt.

“If you’re sure about it.”

They briefly shook hands, before Nyx departed. The sewers were remarkably easy to navigate, for some reason, with many of the passageways blocked by barred doors and locked gates, but eventually, Nyx managed to make his way outside.

The sound of a flowing river, coupled with the light breeze, and the brightness of day, nearly brought a tear to Nyx’s eye. It was as if, upon emerging from the underground tunnels, he’d truly realised that he was not only alive, but also in another world. No place on Eos was like the realm he now found himself to be in, even the ruins across the river from him were completely unlike the Solheim ruins scattered throughout the continents of Eos. Even the very air seemed…lighter, almost, as if there had been a shadow lying upon his home world that could not be found in this realm. The water of the river in front of him seemed to sparkle in the sunlight, and he could distantly hear the bustling noise of a crowded settlement from somewhere behind him.

Turning around, he saw the walls of a city, but what caught his notice was the tower that seemed to stretch all the way up to the sky. Distantly, he wondered if any of the high-rises in Insomnia were actually the same height as it, or if they too were dwarfed by that tower. From where he was standing, at the base of the hill the city had been built upon, he honestly thought that this tower would actually be the taller structure, somehow.

He shook his head, too busy basking in the warmth of the sun – a warmth he had been certain he’d never experience again – to give that curiosity any more thought. Sure, it was the sunlight of a world that seemed to be exactly like a ten-dollar fantasy novel, but regardless of that, it was still proof that, against all the odds, he was alive.

Even if he seemed to have been thrown into the thick of things once again, well, at the very least, he’d gotten practice with the whole ‘escort item and person of importance for the sake of the world’ thing.

Ha, practice.

More like a handbook of things that could go wrong.

Things had ended terribly, he decided, even if there had been that undercurrent of hope at the very end. And well, he might as well try to ensure that this time, he got the happy ending. If not for himself (and a peaceful retirement) then surely for Baurus’ sake, because Nyx knew what it felt like to be a failed protector, and he’d already made a promise, to a certain extent, to the Emperor. And you didn’t break promises made with the dead.

Nyx nodded to himself, satisfied with his chosen course of action. First, he’d get something better than his current sword, because surely there had to be a blacksmith willing to let him borrow their forge, or someone he could commission, at any rate. It was a shame his kukris hadn’t come along with him, but he figured that they were still lodged in Glauca’s corpse, so that…wasn’t too bad. He’d made his kukris himself, after all, even if he lost one of the original pair during the Fall of Galahd, and had to replace it with a Lucian-made version. He could always make, or buy, himself a new pair, a set fitting for this new chance at living he had been given.

And after he got some new weaponry, he’d set off for Weynon Priory.

Nyx paused, halfway up the hill as he headed towards the city.

Where…exactly was Weynon Priory? He’d actually forgotten to ask Baurus.

Nyx sighed. Looked like he’d be doing a little more in the city than just re-equipping himself, from the looks of things.

A few minutes later, standing outside a shop he assumed was a blacksmith or a weapons vendor (judging by the signage), he realised he had also overlooked one more thing.

He didn’t have any money.

Specifically, he didn’t have any of the local currency, and none of the gil he had in his pockets seemed to amount for anything, considering how they looked too odd for any merchant to be willing to even trade for them.

Nyx considered his options, as he sat down on a nearby bench.

Back home, he could have always looked for a tipster to find a hunt to make some money off of, since there were always daemons or dangerous wildlife that needed to be killed before they could cause further harm and destruction. Hunts were dangerous, yes, but as someone who had been first trained as a hunter back in Galahd, and then became one of the best members of the Kingsglaive, Nyx was perfectly capable of completing them.

He idly stared at his bare arm, the sleeve burned out by the power of the Kings of Yore. From the looks of things, the scars of that particular deal would remain with him, the vein-like patterns still glowing ever so slightly with the same blue-violet hue even though it had been more than an hour since his death.

He supposed he could look for a tipster here, or someone who acted to the same effect, though he wasn’t certain how reliable he’d look, dressed only in a ragged uniform and with only a slightly-rusty sword to his name. He slowly got to his feet, still sore from both the events of his death, and then the fighting that he’d already done here, and made his way to the nearest tavern or inn. Tipsters tended to be found in places of rest, food, and drink, and hopefully that would hold true even in another world.

Thirty minutes later, he didn’t have any outright jobs he could undertake, but he did have a lot of rumours, some of which probably would result in a quick job, whereas others were more the type of gossip one would encounter in a crowded city.

There was one rumour, however, that seemed to be a little more substantial than the rest. A few of the merchants around the Market District were having issues with a new merchant, and wanted some help investigating the man.

It seemed harmless enough, and considering they were willing to pay him for his help, Nyx figured he could quickly resolve whatever burgeoning dispute the merchants were having. He wandered over to the shop belonging to the lady that the other merchants had directed him to, intent on asking her for more details about the situation.

However, when he arrived, she was already talking to someone, a hooded figure who had a stave slung across their back. The merchant, Jensine, noticed his entrance, and called out to him.

“You here for business? I’m a little busy, but I’ll be with you shortly.”

“Actually, I heard about the uh, problems you were having? With the new merchant? I was hoping to be of assistance.”

“Ah, another one. Well, better two heads than one, I suppose. You’ll have to share whatever payment comes out of this, of course, but I suppose travellers like yourselves can’t be picky,” Jensine nodded. “So, as I was saying-“

“Hold on.”

Nyx froze, as the hooded traveller held up a hand. He knew that voice. The person spun around, and Nyx nearly crumpled where he stood from the shock and…relief, as he recognised the person in front of him? He wasn’t sure if he’d call it relief, but it was definitely a welcome sensation.

Especially considering the last time he’d seen Crowe, she’d been in a body bag.

And yet, here she was, looking hale and whole, the collar of her Kingsglaive uniform peeking out from underneath the hooded robe or cloak she was also wearing.

[carminite-wyrm]

FFXV + TES:Oblivion Crossover AU

To kick things off, here's a ficlet for an AU in which, Nyx Ulric wakes up (to his surprise) after dying during the Fall of Insomnia, and finds himself right at the start of the events of The Elder Scrolls: Oblivion.

Ficlet under the Read More.

The first rays of sunlight had broken through the horizon, slowly banishing the shadows that had arisen from the smoking wreckage of the city, as Nyx Ulric drew what he knew to be his last breath. The price of wielding the power of Kings was a deadly, painful one, but at the very least, Nyx thought, as he stared out into the sunrise, it would be worth it for the future of Lucis, and the very world, come to think of it.

Or, at least, he hoped it would. He trusted Libertus to get the Princess, and that Ring, out of the city and to safety, at any rate.

He beheld his last sunrise, waiting for death to properly claim him, as the sensation of broken concrete and soft, warm light faded away, and he finally fell away into the darkness of death. For the briefest of moments, he thought he could hear the voices of King Regis, of Crowe, of his sister, before that too faded away, leaving nothing behind but a lingering sense of peace.

Peace that was rapidly disturbed by the sound of someone agitatedly trying to get his attention.

Nyx groaned as he cracked open his eyes, a sharper sort of light temporarily leaving him blinking away spots as he looked up at what was bright midday light spilling through a barred window. His entire body ached, as if he had gone several rounds with an iron giant and then had an entire building fall on top of him…which had basically happened, on top of the utter shitshow that was Crowe dying, the Empire invading, half the Glaive and bloody Titus Drautos turning out to be traitors, the King dying-

And wasn’t he meant to be dead?! The Kings of Yore had said that was to be the price of wielding the Ring, wasn’t it? Nyx had thought, in the few timeless moments he’d had to think about it, that he was prepared for that, and hadn’t he paid that price?

Then why was he waking up in what was definitely a cell of some sort, the tattered remnants of his Kingsglaive uniform still clinging to his battle-worn frame?

It was at that moment, lying on his back in a patch of warm sunlight, that he finally noticed the origin of the agitated voice.

With only moderate amounts of incredulity, because it’d only been maybe an hour or two since he’d yelled at a bunch of spirits and then used the power he’d gotten from said argument to bring some giant statues to life to kill an equally massive daemon superweapon, so he was pretty much ready to go ‘yep, this might as well be happening’, he beheld the person in the cell across from his.

The other man was dusky-skinned, much darker than anyone he had ever met, even back home when Galahd had not been ravaged by the Niflheim Empire, pale hair hanging limply even as he sneered at Nyx. Most strikingly, however, was the very obvious pointed ears that the other man sported, ears which Nyx knew was a characteristic of the elves in some of those fantasy novels he had seen on sale in the bookstores in Insomnia.

This has got to be the strangest afterlife ever.

Nyx gave himself a pinch as the elf– holy Shit that was an elf! He wasn’t dreaming or hallucinating! –continued to laugh at him mockingly, more concerned about the fact that it really was sinking in that 1) this was real, and he was alive, somehow 2) in a cell, and 3) had no clue where he was, or how he had even gotten there.

“I’m sorry, what?” He finally managed to croak out, shifting to sit upright and get a better view of the occupant of the cell across from him. He grimaced as his movement jostled the injuries that still remained despite his – Reincarnating? Potential afterlife? Somehow not having died?– his left arm in particular aching terribly even if he wasn’t currently burning from the inside out.

If this was an afterlife, then whatever had dropped him here really could have done him the favour of getting rid of the injuries he’d sustained fighting daemons, traitorous Glaives (Luche, you fucking bastard), and Drau- Glauca, on top of it all. He slowly lifted his injured arm, wincing at the crackling scars that somehow still shone with the blue-violet hue of Lucian magic, and the faint imprint that the ring had left upon the base of his finger.

“Didn’t you hear me? You’re going to die here!”

Nyx turned his attention back to the elf across from him, as he slowly managed to get to his feet, muscles stiff and almost making him topple over even as he used the wall to help steady him.

“Die?” Nyx almost scoffed at that. He’d literally died moments earlier; it’d be the height of his very dry sense of humour if he were to die again so quickly.

“What are you, deaf? That’s what I-“ The elf paused in his tirade, cocking his head to the side. “Hey, you hear that?”

“Hear what?” Nyx narrowed his eyes, looking around for the source of whatever the elf was hearing. He didn’t see anything, only the chains hanging ominously from the wall of his cell and the small table opposite them.

“The guards are coming…for you!” The elf began to cackle once more.

Five minutes later, Nyx was staring at an elderly man, and his entourage of bodyguards, as the elderly man talked about fate and prophecy in a manner so alike the King he had watched die.

[carminite-wyrm]

Hero-of-Kvatch!Nyx AU, Part 2!

aka, Nyx continues to not have a great time in the tunnels beneath the Imperial Prison.

Again, story under the cut.

Part 1

The most ridiculous part of this whole matter, Nyx decided, was not the not-daemons (the creatures had certainly looked the part, but they hadn’t disappeared into a cloud of miasma after he’d killed them) he had encountered in the tunnels as he made his way out of the prison. It was the fact that no one had commented on both his injuries, or his tattered uniform that was very much not fitting the ‘high fantasy novel’ aesthetic he was also wrapping his head around.

Even as the brisk pace that the elderly man – who was apparently Uriel Septim VII, the Emperor of the nation Nyx now found himself in – and his entourage set through the tunnels did wonders for working out the lingering stiffness in his body, (as did the vaguely nightmarish path earlier full of the largest rats Nyx had ever seen), Nyx found his mind starting to spiral off into multiple tangents, trying to process the wealth of information he had already managed to gather.

He had died, that was almost an undeniable fact. And then he had awoken in what he was now absolutely certain was a different universe, to find himself in a cell that he was shortly released from by the Emperor of the land of Tamriel, who was fleeing cultist-assassins who had most likely already claimed the lives of his heirs. On top of all of that, the Emperor (and Nyx, apparently), were mixed up in some sort of shared fate or prophecy, that likely had to do with the gods of this realm if Nyx was understanding things correctly.

Nyx was fervently doing his best to try and ignore how the situation was rather similar to what he had just lived in his own world. It had been almost too easy for him to slip back into the role of a bodyguard and defender of a King, to the point that one of the guards, Baurus, had given him several suspicious looks when he had found their group once again, and introduced himself as Nyx.

He silently cursed the lack of his kukris, the weight of the short sword he had found in the tunnels slightly awkward in his hand, as he fended off one of the strange assassins that were chasing their group, the blade nevertheless good enough to sink through a chink in his opponent’s armour. Even the slightest drop of magic to blast some of them away faster would have been useful, but he was fairly certain that the magic he once had was now gone. Dead and gone, vanished when Regis’ body had-

He grit his teeth, shoving that thought away along with the dead body that slid off his blade.

Even if this Emperor Uriel was supposedly meant to die at some point in the coming future, Nyx would do his best to help him avoid that ‘fate’. Quite frankly, he’d had enough of talks of fate and destiny, and the fact that the Emperor looked about as resigned to his fate as Regis had been-

The group halted as they found the way to the sewers to be barred, and Nyx suddenly had a sinking feeling. He readied his sword, just in time for one of the guards– Blades, the Emperor had called them –to call out that it was a trap. He followed them as they tried a side passage, only to find that it was a dead end.

“Wait here with the Emperor,” One of the Blades ordered, as the sound of assassins entering the previous chamber grew louder. “Guard him with your life!”

And before Nyx could even muster up a shred of disagreement, that perhaps leaving their Emperor with a man who they had previously thought to be a criminal, and also visibly injured even if he wasn’t actively bleeding or burning to death was a terrible idea, the two Blades had rushed off to engage the assassins.

“Well, at least this room is somewhat defensible,” Nyx sighed, readying his sword as he briefly gave the room a once-over to see if there was something he could use to barricade the entrance. Finding nothing, he instead took up a post by the doorway, readying his sword. Once confident that he’d be able to see any danger that would appear, he turned his attention back to the Emperor, only to find an amulet with a bright red gem being held out to him.

“…Isn’t that yours?” Nyx asked, a sinking feeling starting to settle into his stomach. This was starting to look very, very, familiar. “Why-“

The Emperor’s eyes were startlingly clear, and kind, as he explained that this would be where he was to die, and that he wished for Nyx to not only take his amulet, but find his last son, a secret son that only another man named Jauffre knew the location of.

“This amulet…it isn’t just some family heirloom, is it?”

The Emperor shook his head. “It is the Amulet of Kings, and must pass to the last of the Dragon’s Blood.”

“…Don’t tell me this contains some sort of great power that only someone blood-related to you can wield, a power that was granted to you by a dragon god. And that it will help to end a world-ending calamity.”

“That…is exactly it.” The Emperor gave him a curious look. “That is not common knowledge.”

“I…I’m not quite sure how to explain it.” Nyx admitted. “It’s…a long story.”

“Take the Amulet, and then in the little time we have left, I would hear what you can tell of your story. Your fate lies past the moment of my death, I do not worry that you will fall with the Amulet.”

Nyx glanced around the room, finding it still clear of danger for the time being, even if the sounds of fighting had moved ever so slightly closer to them. He slowly took the Amulet, tucking it away in one of the pockets in his uniform.

“So…Would you believe me if I said that I’m not from this world? Or universe, probably.” Nyx began. “And that I had died, then woken up in that cell, and then a few minutes later you and your guards showed up.”

The Emperor’s eyebrows creased in thought, before he nodded slowly. “The ways of the Divines are mysterious indeed. But you are here, as I have foreseen. Your origins, or your past deeds, do not concern me.”

“I’ve already lived through this!” Nyx blurted out, before he realised that probably wouldn’t make sense without some level of explanation. “I mean, the events leading up to my death, are startlingly similar to what’s happening right now!”

He agitatedly twisted one of his braids in his free hand, decidedly not looking in the direction of the Emperor.

“You are afraid.” Nyx snapped around to stare at the other man.

“I-“

“Even though we have only just met, and yet you still care enough to fear the consequences my death will bring.”

“I just. Don’t want to fail to protect another person. I don’t want your guards, your Blades, to also fail to protect someone they swore to keep safe.” Nyx muttered.

“Oh.” The Emperor sighed, and briefly closed his eyes. There was a sudden presence in the room, ever so slight and yet Nyx could sense it, almost vibrating through the vein-like scars on his arm, the feeling similar to the rush of power that he had felt when confronting the old Kings of Lucis when he had put on the Ring.

The Emperor opened his eyes once again as the moment passed, and looked straight at Nyx, his gaze this time almost as piercing as Regis’ had been when he had spoken up for Nyx in front of the old Kings.

“Your kindness, and dedication, is a gift in these dark times. I am honoured to have met you, Nyx Ulric, and to have been granted the knowledge of the weight you bore before you were brought here. I regret the fate that has been passed onto you, so soon after your sacrifice in your old world, but, I have faith that you will not only face it, but also surpass the expectations laid upon you by the Gods. After all, this new life you have gained will not be without its blessings.”

“Wait, what do you mean-“

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a now-familiar flare of red magic, and broke off as he spun around to meet the assassin, the enemy’s mace rattling against the blade he just managed to bring up in time. The two traded blows furiously, moving across the room as Nyx attempted to use his free arm to gesture or herd the Emperor back away from danger.

Nyx hissed in pain as the mace briefly slid past his guard, the sharp edges of the weapon slicing sharp lines through the side of his uniform. The enchantments that had once been imbued into the fabric clearly had not survived his appearance in this world, though that was not surprising, given how they had hinged on Lucis Caelum magic anyways. He stumbled back a few steps from the impact, and ducked as the mace came down at his head once again. This assassin was clearly a cut above the others they had encountered earlier, Nyx thought, briefly eyeing the cracked stone where the mace had hit.

The assassin cackled, and moved to attack again, when Nyx heard the sound of stone grinding against stone. He looked around for the source of the noise, and spotted, in that half-second, a figure in red robes, wearing an even-more ornate set of black armour, a wickedly-long dagger in his hand. And that figure was stepping out of a passage that had just opened up, right next to where the Emperor was standing.

Instinctively, he flung his sword at the assassin, bracing himself for the pulling sensation of a warp. And then he remembered.

He no longer had the ability to warp.

“Shit!” He yelled, now scrambling under the first assassin as he tried to reach the new assassin in time, trying to reach the Emperor before– and why was he just standing there?! – the new assassin struck.

His fingers had just skimmed the edges of the hilt of his sword, other hand outstretched to try and push the Emperor or the assassin out of the way, when he saw the knife sink into the Emperor’s heart.

He watched as the Emperor toppled to the ground, the assassin’s knife dripping blood onto the stones. He heard, more than saw, as one of the guards appeared in the doorway and gave an anguished cry.

And then the assassins were attacking them again, and he had no time to further process the situation as he and the guard – Baurus – ended up fighting back-to-back, a grieving desperation in Baurus’ attacks as together, they managed to kill those last two assassins.

There was silence, finally, as the last assassin slowly bled out on the ground, and Nyx watched with blurry eyes as Baurus fell to his knees next to the corpse of his Emperor.