1 Chapter 1: The Merger of Souls

A thin, almost skeletal figure was perched upon a high-backed stone chair. The figure sat deathly still as if asleep. The chair itself sat at the center of a large, fog enshrouded room made from white stone. Beautifully carved crystals of an unknown make lined the walls of the room, each placed atop tall metallic sconces. A dim glow was being emitted from each crystal, causing a pallid blue light to be cast across the room. And as the pallid light fell across the lone figure, it began to stir from its supposed slumber.

'Hmm? Why do feel so… empty?'

The figures' first conscious thought upon stirring wasn't about where it was, but instead, about how little it felt. There was no emotion. No physical sensation. Just… an overwhelming and numbing sense of calm. Calm that bordered upon apathy. And although the figure found its lack of emotion to be strange, it was that very lack of emotion which allowed it to adequately assess its situation. One, that in the figure's opinion… was less than ideal.

'Hmm?'

A troublesome thought soon brought forth yet another issue, the first amongst a growing list of problems.

'Where am I?'

A simple enough question. And yet… it was a question that caused the figure immense doubt. How could it not know where it was? Still, even though it did not recognize its surroundings, they did seem somewhat familiar to it all the same. It found the matter to be rather confusing. And try as it may, it could not do away with its confusion. In the end, the figure could only shake its head, deeming the issue to be irrelevant for the time being. Especially as the figure realized that it had a far more serious problem. One caused by a far more perplexing question.

'Who am I?'

The figure could not for the life of itself, remember who it was. Its name? Its history? All of it was missing. Worse still, every time the figure tried to remember something about itself… anything about itself, it would always fall short of its goal. It was as if something was keeping the figure from remembering its identity. Almost as if those memories did not belong to it, at all.

The strange part was that this matter didn't bother the figure either. At least, not as it should. Logically speaking, it understood that not knowing should make it panic. Yet… it again felt nothing. Instead, the figure retained its state of calm. Amidst that calm, however, the figure couldn't help but suspect that something might be wrong with it. A suspicion that was confirmed to be true when the figure happened to gaze down upon its body.

"What… what's wrong with my body?! This cannot be real!"

In its first display of emotion since it stirred, the figure panicked. It had noticed clear signs of decomposition on its hands, arms, and feet. Its torso wasn't moving either, allowing the figure to realize that it was NOT drawing breath. After further examination of its body, the figure became certain of one, unavoidable truth regarding its state of being. It was, in fact, dead. Clinically speaking, at any rate. Yes… it could move about, but a lack of breath only meant one thing… that it was no different from a corpse.

'If… if I am dead, then… how am moving about? Is such a thing even possible?'

Tapping the armrest of the stone chair it was sitting in while lost in thought, the figure soon came to a pause. A strange thought had entered its mind. One that it could not dismiss.

"Wait a moment… if I am a corpse… then what gender am I?!"

The figure could not help but smash its fist into the armrest of its chair at such a thought.

"Does that truly matter right now?!"

Cocking its head to the side, the figure arrived at a perturbing answer to its previous question.

"Hmm… yes! Oddly enough, it does."

Looking down towards its torso, the figure noticed no defining gender characteristics. It was, for all intent and purpose… a shriveled-up corpse. A corpse that found its sudden desire to know its gender to be increasingly disturbing. After thinking about it for a while, however, it soon realized that such a desire most likely stemmed from not knowing its own identity. And given that this desire was amongst its first genuine emotions, it needed an answer.

'Judging by my body's shape and size… I suppose that I am… male? Yes. That seems correct.'

The figure started tapping the stone chairs armrest once more, his mind quickly moving back toward his other problems. Summing it all up for himself, he was in a foreign place with no memories to speak of, and to top it all off… he was a walking corpse. By all rights, he should be losing his composure, and yet aside from the gender issue, he was still eerily calm. It did help to speed things along, though.

'I know that by all rights, I should be dead… but am I really?'

After careful analysis, the figure concluded that if he were truly dead, his body would not function like a living person's. His body would no longer be able to create hormones, such as adrenaline or cortisol in order to induce emotional responses such as fear or stress. That was most likely why he was so… rational.

'Wait a moment…?'

Craning his head in confusion, the figure once more stopped tapping on his chair's armrest.

'Adrenalin? Cortisol… hormones? What are those?!'

Scratching his chin with his bony finger, the undead figure found himself with even more questions. Shaking his head, the figure concluded that he would not get any answers at all by continuing to sit on his bony backside. Slowly rising from the chair, he had woken up in, the figure grabbed what appeared to be a walking staff that was conveniently leaning against the side of his chair.

"This feels… right, somehow."

The staff was made from dark colored wood and had the appearance of a gnarled tree branch. Given his body's withered state, the figure felt that taking it along with him would likely be a sound idea. And after holding the walking staff in his hand, the figure felt that this decision was indeed the correct one. He felt connected to the staff in a way that he could not fully comprehend.

"Well then… huh?"

Once standing, the figure happened to glance back at the stone chair. Upon doing so, an odd thought ran through his mind.

'That's… more of a throne, is it not?'

Upon closer inspection, it did indeed seem to be a throne. One created from ornately carved stone. The figure could not help but ponder, that if the chair he had been sitting upon was a throne, did it mean that the room he was currently standing in was a throne room of some kind? That thought led to yet another question.

'And… if I awoke upon a throne, does that make me a king?'

Lost in his musings, the figure looked about the large throne room. Noticing no immediate exit in sight, his eyes took in the room itself. It was lined by four large braziers made of what he thought to be iron of some kind. Though, he was not certain of that, as he was having trouble distinguishing between different colors and materials in the dim light which illuminated the room.

'Hmm…? Perhaps it is not the light?'

The figure suspected that the former had more to do with his sight itself. He imagined that his eyes were as decomposed as the rest of his body. While he had no mirror to confirm such a theory, he felt quite strongly that this was indeed the most likely cause. In fact, he was certain of it.

'And yet, somehow… I can still see. How is such a feat possible, I wonder?'

The creature found the whole concept foreign for some reason. Even so, this limited form of sight was all he had to work with for the time being. Thinking such, he turned his thoughts back to the task at hand… finding his way out. Luckily, he didn't have to search for to long.

"There."

Looking towards the far end of the room, the creature noticed a strange wall with a glowing motif on it. A branching tree of some sort, judging by the look of it. Hoping for a way out, he slowly walked towards the wall in a low, hunched gait.

Arriving before the wall, the figure was slightly confused at first. Until, that is, he noticed a large stone button to one side of the muralled wall. Pressing it caused the wall to slide downward into the floor in a noisy cacophony of grating stone. What awaited him behind it was a dark stairway that led upwards.

Proceeding forward through a second hidden doorway, not unlike the first, he proceeded through a labyrinth of ruined rooms that followed. Soon, however, the figure realized that he was not alone. Spread throughout the ruins were other… creatures. Their flesh was decayed like his own, but unlike him, they seemed to possess no notable intelligence whatsoever. And given the way they rarely moved, he doubted they had any.

"The glow the creature's give off does attract me, though. It is almost… mesmerizing, in a way."

The glow he was referring to was what had attracted his attention to begin with. It was a hazy, bluish mist that seemed to pour outward from within the creatures' bodies. It became noticeable as soon as he left the throne room. And curiously, he found himself drawn towards it like a moth to flame.

The figure could even see the glow through the walls that surrounded them. It was a most perplexing, yet fascinating phenomenon that had taken him a bit of study to comprehend. The glow that he was seeing was their internal energy. Their lifeforce, so to speak. Although… given that most of the creatures looked to be as dead as he was, lifeforce might not be the correct terminology.

'Hmm… quite a useful ability. I doubt others will have an easy time sneaking up on me.'

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Continuing, past the throngs of 'undead', the figure had proceeded upward. Climbing staircase after staircase, he finally reached what appeared to be an exit. Walking through it led him to where he now stood. Atop a ruined structure, made from the same bleach white stone as the complex beneath it.

Above him, two brilliantly shining moons hung within the night sky. One was a pearlescent white in hue. The other, much larger moon… a deep, rustic red. Around them, was an ocean of stars that sparkled like jewels in the night sky. The scene was straight out of a fairy tale. A fantasy made real.

'Breathtaking beyond reason. I… huh?!'

As the figure looked upon them, his withered body began to tremble. Doubling over in a sudden bout of anguish, the figure found himself clawing at the white stone beneath his feet. His mind felt as if it were being torn to pieces, to only moments later be stitched back together. This continued for seemed like an eternity, as the figure screamed into the night.

"Argh?! AHHHHHHHH!!"

Then, as suddenly as it had started, his body went still. Moments later, following a strange pulse of energy, his body began to levitate into the air, while the confusion that shrouded his mind began to clear. With it, foreign, yet familiar words erupted from his throat in harsh, raspy scream.

"A KNUE AYE TAM-RIEL!!!"

The figure, who had been confused until now, had at last recalled his past. Or more accurately, he recalled BOTH of his lives. His first of a world called Earth. They were uneventful for the most part, save for a series of tomes and games which he had adored. His second, that of a ruler… of the very city he now floated above.

"Miscarcand. My city of magic. My dream, my jewel… my heart."

Looking down form above at the only thing he had ever truly loved in the world, the figure… no, the last King of Miscarcand recalled everything. Most importantly, he distinguished the fact that he had only lived the second life. The first… it seemed, were the memories of another. Moreso, they stemmed from the soul of another.

The King was certain of that much. He specialized in the nature and innermost workings of souls, after all, so how could he not be? Still. the memories were indistinguishable from his own. It wasn't until most of the night had passed that he concluded that such a thing would change him mentally.

Moreso, since both sets of memories seemed indistinguishable from one another, then it was a true merging of souls. Both beings were now one and the same. He was now both, "The Gamer" AND the "Great Ruler of Miscarcand". A completely new entity. Meaning that any changes to his personality would likely go unnoticed. By him, at least.

'Hmm… that's all speculation on my part, really. And at the very least, I now have answers to my other queries.'

The "other queries" being his body's… condition. The King now understood that he was a Lich. An undead sorcerer of great power. A feat that had come neither easily, nor without great personal cost. No, such a magic took time and effort. Long years of study and practice. And finally… the surrender of one's mortal form. If it went correctly, the result was immortality. Life unending. If it went wrong… then it meant the utter obliteration of one's soul.

It was an arduous process that had stolen his very sanity. Luckily, fate had smiled upon him once more. For now, he had something unique… knowledge from another world. And foreknowledge regarding this one. Of magics yet to be. Of events that had yet to occur. It was clear that such knowledge would make him into a formidable existence.

Still, it would take time for him to make sense of it all. Years even. Besides that, the King also needed to discover how two souls from two distinctly different realities had merged into one gestalt being. That was knowledge he would have once killed for. Knowledge he would still kill for.

"Hmm?"

The Kings first guess, given his practical knowledge upon the working of souls, was that the soul of The Gamer was cast adrift from whence it came. It then somehow found its way into the Mundus. That is, the world of Nirn… or the mortal plane. It was rare, but the barriers between realities sometimes thinned. And being a wayward soul, it would have sought an anchor for its new reality. Something to tether itself to Nirn.

'And I… was likely that tether.'

Reaching up with one gnarled hand, the lich scratched his chin before continuing with this train of thought.

'That would explain my amnesia. Such an event would have damaged my soul even mo...?'

Noticing something, he looked towards a far-off tree line in the distance. He stared in that direction for a few moments before his thoughts once more turned inward. Cycling through different scenarios, he arrived at a conclusion.

'I am far from mortal. My soul is far more resilient after my ascension to lichdom. It can repair itself given enough power… and the merger provided it.'

There were risks apparent in all things, magic most of all. His transcendence to lichdom had changed him. Fundamentally, at that. He became a different sort of being. A stronger being. That was the whole point, as by removing the boundaries placed by the divine upon a mortal's will, an individual would gain near limitless magical potential. In exchange, however, it would put the psyche of that mortal at great risk.

It could cause madness, apathy, and a heavy tendency towards megalomaniacal behavior. And sadly… he had been no exception. Even though he had succeeded in transcending his mortal bonds, he still fell prey to those ill effects. He had spent the last ten years in a madness induced haze, blindly chasing down and killing any who dared to enter Miscarcand.

'I truly lost myself.'

Shaking his head, the King looked down towards the white stone city beneath him. Noticing that he had dropped his staff at some point, he held out his hand. A soft, translucent orange light surrounded his palm, while an energy of some type surrounded the staff, pulling it towards him. Grasping the staff from the air, he looked back towards the tree line he had been watching before. Soon, the clash of metal reached him.

"Now… to greet the guests who have so rudely shown up uninvited at my door."

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