Chapter Text
My name is Miraak. I am the first Dovahkiin, and I grow tired of my endless toil in the realm of Apocrypha, serving the daedric prince Herma Mora.
I have spent eons in this endless library of knowledge, and have nothing to show for it but nigh endless scorn for my master. I wish to see the sun. To bask in the warm glow of Magnus and taste the sweat and intoxicating flavour of Mead. The endless quiet of the realm has long since driven me mad, the unending knowledge of ages corrupting all thought and emotion, but I am Miraak.
Though madness pervades my very being, its very existence has given life to my goal of freedom. My drive had been ignited so many years ago to leave and feel the flesh of a lover.
So I learned.
Hundreds, if not thousands of years I searched for knowledge and power within the confines of my prison, driven by the succor of clear skies. I had begun to lose hope, when Alduin, the world eater himself had returned and showed me the true path of freedom.
A new fervor had filled my draconic spirit and I began my studies anew. Watching. Awaiting. For years I observed the Last of the Dragonborn gain strength, allowing them the ignorance of my existence as I planned and schemed. Using the island of Solstheim, I used my power to influence the realms and control the weak-minded fools that populated the small continent to build my shrines and temples.
Years passed like this, and my unwilling rival grew to become a legend on Mundus. It was here when I sensed they were at the peak of power, did I begin the first step of my plan.
He had defeated the weakling World Eater, slayed countless monsters, started a family, defeated every possible foe he could find, and then begun his crusade to kill off any remaining dragons still loyal to Alduin. It was here that I sent the idiots of my cult to their death, making use of their worthless lives. I bent the wills of nearly every remaining dragon in the realm and slowly but surely tossed them to be slain by the walking cataclysm.
I let my rival grow gluttonous with excess dragon souls, with power, and began to taunt him by taking what he believed was rightfully his.
This was the weakest part of my plan, as it relied on an innate hunger that drove every dov and dovahkiin alike. I had worried that my observations would be wrong, that I had gotten the personality of his incorrect, but my fears were unnecessary. He was Dov through and through, killing any challenger in his path and collecting anything of worth between him and me. It was almost disgusting how deeply he was driven by his draconian spirit, but I had to remember he was not like me, who had been Dragonborn since the very beginning, and who all others would inevitably be modeled after.
Countless books existed in the realm, filled with forbidden knowledge from across all levels of existence, that I used to learn self-control. It is what led me to wear my very spirit as armour to empower me.
It took me weeks after their arrival to prepare every trap and pitfall that would befall my rival, slowly luring them into my grasp, before he inevitably stood before me for our first, and final battle.
He who I would now gladly call brother, fought valiantly. He was a master of all crafts of magic and combat. Clad in the bones of our dovah brethren woven with ebony, he too wore his spirit like I did. He was beautiful in a way I could not have appreciated when I first walked Nirn.
Fury etched his masculine features for every moment that we clashed at the highest peak of apocrypha, and I could see a deep fire burn within that burned brighter at every cut we laid upon each other. Our very voices shook the realm we battled in and reality itself had slowly begun to sunder itself.
Our battle was legendary.
But as all things were to be, it inevitably had to end.
Our blades continued to meet and our spells scorched the ground, but my foolish brother had decided that this was the perfect moment in our days long clash to pull out a cheese wheel and feast. I was baffled at this decision, but I was loath to let such a perfect opening be without taking advantage, so I thrust and pierced him straight and true, falling to his knees. It was here that I was finally able to catch my breath and truly appreciate how beautiful he was.
My hand tore the helm from his head, tossing it aside.
No doubt Hermaeus Mora was looking at this sacred moment between us, but I let that voyeuristic cur watch. This was the moment that I earned my victory and freedom from the entity's clutches.
I too removed my masque, looking into the eyes of my dovahkiin brother as I tore his soul from his body and took every iota of memory and power he held. Every skill, every mastery, every soul that he held was mine, and it was here that I had an Idea.
Why not take his body too?
Though I held no contempt for my own form, even I had to see that I was no longer at my peak, where my rival was. So using my dragon aspect, I enveloped his corpse and spiritually mantled him.
My original body collapsed, turning to ashes in the wind, and I arose anew.
Healing myself was little matter with how much raw power I now held, and I was back to my peak. It was here that I used my willpower to shatter the shackles of my bondage here and forced a portal to open, where I walked through to finally taste my freedom.
I was not expecting the giant stone towers and blinding lights.