in the beninging

The first thing I noticed when I opened my eyes was an empty void. As I looked around, an unsettling realization crept over me—was this the afterlife? It felt so empty, so devoid of anything.

There wasn't anything particularly special about me. I was just a normal college student who spent his time watching anime and playing video games. If I were gone, no one would really miss me—except for my family and friends, of course.

But honestly, it was an awesome way to go. I died pushing a family of three out of the way while they were crossing the street. A car, being chased by the police, was heading straight for them. I ran with every ounce of strength I had and rammed into them, pushing them forward just in time. They survived. I didn't.

And now, here I was. In this void.

As I sat there, trying to process my situation, I noticed a figure approaching me. A man. He looked familiar, but I couldn't quite place him. My mind immediately jumped to all the cliché fanfiction plots I'd read before. Was this the part where an omnipotent being would grant me wishes? Was this my time to shine?

The man stopped in front of me, looking at me with an expression that was hard to read. Then he spoke.

"You really shouldn't be dead, you know."

I frowned. "What do you mean?"

He sighed. "The people you saved? That was me and my family. We weren't actually in danger, but because you pushed us, you ended up dying instead. And now, that's caused a bit of a problem."

I stared at him. "Wait… what?"

"I can't send you back to your original world, but I can place you in another."

A spark of excitement lit up inside me. "Do I get wishes? Like in anime?" I asked nervously.

The man chuckled. "Yeah, you get a couple—one or two, depending on what you ask for. But no 'triple O's.'"

Triple O's? Wait… Oh. Overpowered Omnipotent Omniscience. No god-tier nonsense. Got it.

"Alright," I said, thinking carefully. I recalled the two most recent games I had played—The Witcher and Skyrim. I was a collector in Skyrim and had gone through multiple playthroughs, but my most recent character was a pure mage build. Modded, of course.

"I know what I want," I said, looking at the man. "For my first wish, I want to become my most recent Skyrim character, memories and all."

The man nodded. "I can do that. You still have two more wishes."

Nice. That only counted as one.

"For my second wish," I continued, "I want the entire College of Winterhold, along with all of its inhabitants, and Myrwatch—with every artifact, item, and resource I stored there.

This way, I wouldn't waste time gathering followers in my new world. I'd have everything I needed from the start—resources, weapons, and even Daedric artifacts.

The man considered it, then nodded again. "Done. Now, what world do you want to go to?"

"The Witcher universe," I answered without hesitation.

He smirked. "Interesting choice. Alright. Good luck in your new world."

With a wave of his hand, my vision blurred, and everything faded to white.

--

The first thing I noticed when I woke up was that I felt... different. Taller. Stronger. And there was an unfamiliar energy coursing through me. As I sat up, I realized I was in the Archmage's Quarters. It was much larger and more detailed than I remembered.

As I took in my surroundings, a flood of memories surged into my mind. Unlike in the game, where everything happened in a matter of days, here, events had taken months. According to my new memories, I hadn't simply taken over this body—I was Calion. I had been reincarnated, and only now did I remember my past life.

Turning my head, I noticed black hair beside me on the bed. My mind quickly caught up—this was Serana. I recalled downloading a couple of mods back when I played Skyrim. Most of them were meant to improve graphics, fix bugs, and add more spells. But two stood out: Marry Me Serana and Play as a Dragon.

Apparently, I had married Serana a few months after we killed Harkon. She and I had traveled together, collecting artifacts. And as for the dragon mod... It seemed I had fully embraced that power. With the help of Odahviing and Paarthurnax, I had shed my mortal limitations. My true form was now that of a dragon, and this High Elf body was merely a transformation—a disguise.

After taking a deep breath, I got up and stretched. I felt stronger than I ever had before. My body was brimming with magical energy, far beyond what I had expected.

Deciding to get a better sense of my surroundings, I stepped out of my quarters. As I descended the stairs, I heard panicked voices echoing from below. That's when I remembered—the entire College had been transported to the Witcher world.

Realizing that I needed to calm everyone down, I hurried toward the commotion. As I descended, I took in my surroundings, and the sheer scale of the College struck me. This wasn't the compact structure I remembered from the game—it was massive. Searching my memories, I realized that the College here was far more detailed and expansive. Each mage of master rank had their own room complete with a personal laboratory, all housed within the main castle.

The College itself was divided into five floors. The top floor was split into two sections—one housing my quarters, laboratory, and a vast garden, while the other half contained the massive library, storage rooms, and additional laboratories. The fourth floor was reserved for master magicians and their personal laboratories. The third floor housed the adepts and several lecture halls. The second floor was entirely dedicated to lecture halls, while the first floor featured essential facilities such as the Hall of the Elements, a kitchen, a dining hall, and additional classrooms. The apprentices, rather than being crammed into small rooms, lived in towers surrounding the College.

As I finally reached the Hall of the Elements, I saw a large crowd gathered outside, their panic evident. They must have noticed the drastic change in scenery. Pushing my way through the anxious apprentices, I raised both hands and clapped loudly.

Clap! Clap!

The sharp sound cut through the noise, and all eyes turned toward me. I took a deep breath and addressed them.

"Everyone, remain calm!" My voice carried through the hall, firm yet reassuring. "I understand that this situation is alarming, but panicking will not help us."

Some apprentices looked at each other nervously, while others stared at me, waiting for answers.

"It seems that the College has been transported to a new location," I continued, my tone steady. "I highly suspect the work of a Daedric Prince, though I am not yet certain. Rest assured, we will get to the bottom of this."

A young apprentice raised his hand hesitantly. "A-Are we in danger, Archmage?"

I met his gaze and shook my head. "For now, there is no immediate threat. The College remains intact, and we are all unharmed. That is what matters most. However, until we fully understand our situation, I want everyone to remain within the College grounds."

The apprentices still looked uneasy, but some nodded, reassured by my words.

"For now, return to your schedules. I will personally investigate our surroundings and determine our exact situation. If I need any of you, I will send for you."

The crowd murmured but slowly began dispersing. The instructors, however, remained, their expressions tense.

"Archmage, do you have any idea how this happened?" one of them asked urgently.

"How were we transported without anyone noticing?" another demanded.

"And where exactly are we?" a third added, eyes filled with worry.

I raised a hand to quiet them. "I do not yet know our exact location, nor the means of our transportation. However, I will investigate immediately. Until then, I need you all to maintain order and security."

Master Miran, a seasoned instructor with a graying beard, crossed his arms. "You're asking us to hold down the College while you go out there alone? That's a risk."

"I am aware," I said calmly. "But I am the most equipped to handle this situation. If something does happen, I would rather it be me than any of our students. Besides, I will not be reckless. I will return as soon as I have gathered enough information."

The instructors exchanged glances before nodding. "Very well," Miran said. "We'll secure the perimeter and keep the students inside."

"Good. Keep a close eye on everything. If anything unusual happens, I want to be informed the moment I return."

"Understood," another instructor affirmed before they scattered, likely heading for the College's outer walls to assess the surroundings.

As they left, I made my way back to my quarters. Pushing open the door, I found Serana already awake, sitting at the edge of the bed, her crimson eyes watching me with quiet curiosity. She must have sensed the unease in the air.

"It seems the entire College has been transported to another world," I said, leaning against the doorframe.

She tilted her head slightly, her expression unreadable. "Is it the work of one of the Daedric Lords?" she asked, her voice calm yet laced with suspicion.

"That was my guess as well," I admitted. "But I need to confirm it. I plan to scout our surroundings—would you like to join me?"

Serana sighed, stretching slightly before standing. "There's nothing else to do here," she said, brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "Let's go."

Serana let out a quiet sigh, stretching slightly before standing. "Well, it's not like there's much else to do here," she murmured, brushing a stray lock of black hair behind her ear. Her crimson eyes met mine, sharp and calculating. "Might as well figure out where the hell we are."

She reached for her weapons—a finely crafted elven dagger and her signature vampiric blade—securing them at her waist with practiced ease. I followed suit, adjusting my mage robes and ensuring my staff was strapped securely to my back.

Stepping outside, I took a deep breath, trying to gauge our surroundings. The air felt different—cleaner, yet heavier, as if infused with a kind of magic foreign to me. Below, the College of Winterhold stood as it always had, yet… changed. It was grander, more intricate than the game version I remembered, its towering spires and stone walkways stretching further. The Midden, usually hidden beneath the College, was nowhere to be seen—likely buried under the mountain on which we now stood.

Serana hovered beside me, her gaze scanning the vast expanse before us. "I see a fortress in the distance," she noted, nodding toward the northern horizon.

Following her line of sight, I could just make out the structure—a towering stone keep surrounded by a deep moat. To the south, a large encampment sprawled across the land, tents and makeshift fortifications marking what appeared to be a military presence.

I glanced at her. "Which one should we check out first? The fortress or the encampment?"

Serana's expression remained impassive, but there was an edge of pragmatism in her tone. "The fortress. Less trouble. If the encampment belongs to an army, we don't want to walk into a potential warzone unprepared."

I nodded in agreement. "Before we leave, let me secure the College."

Serana folded her arms and watched as I stepped forward, inhaling deeply before channeling the power within me.

"DEY RAH ZAAM!"

At my command, the stone statues lining the College walls trembled before lurching to life. Their enchanted forms straightened, their eyes glowing with a cold, magical light. With heavy steps, they began patrolling the perimeter, their presence an unyielding defense against any potential threats.

Next, I turned my gaze to the sky.

"OD AH VIING!"

The air cracked and rippled as reality itself seemed to fracture. A massive rift tore open in the sky, and from it emerged a colossal figure—Odahviing. His crimson scales gleamed under the sunlight, his enormous wings casting a shadow over the mountainside as he descended. The ground trembled under his sheer presence as he landed before me, his piercing eyes locking onto mine.

"Dovahkiin… it seems you have found yourself in a new world." His voice rumbled like thunder, filled with curiosity and intrigue.

I inclined my head in acknowledgment. "Yes, and the entire College has been brought with me. I need you to guard the perimeter—let no one approach."

Odahviing let out a deep, considering growl before nodding. "I shall watch over your fortress while you are away, Dovahkiin. None shall trespass in my domain."

With that, he spread his massive wings and took to the skies, his form vanishing over the mountain range as he searched for a suitable roost.

Satisfied, I turned back to Serana, who was waiting at the foot of the mountain, arms crossed.

Serana folded her arms as she cast a skeptical glance toward Calion. "You really called Odahviing for that?"

The High Elf gave her a knowing smirk. "Better to be prepared. There's an army stationed nearby, and when they notice a fortress appearing out of nowhere, they're bound to investigate."

She exhaled, shaking her head, but didn't argue further. Without another word, she stepped closer as Calion gathered magicka into his hands. A faint blue shimmer surrounded them, and with a surge of arcane power, they lifted off the ground, ascending into the sky once more.

Their path took them westward, crossing a vast lake before the silhouette of a village appeared in the distance. As they descended, a worn wooden sign came into view, its faded letters barely legible:

Durge →

The village itself lay in eerie silence. No voices, no movement—just the soft creaking of rotting wood in the wind. Houses leaned precariously, their wooden frames aged and on the verge of collapse.

Serana landed beside Calion, her crimson eyes scanning the surroundings with suspicion. "It's abandoned."

He nodded, eyes sweeping across the settlement. "And not recently."

She stepped forward, dragging a gloved hand across the frame of a nearby door. The wood crumbled beneath her touch, flaking away like dust. "What could've forced them to leave? War? Monsters?"

"Possibly both," Calion mused as he pushed open the remains of a door, stepping into a ruined home. Dust hung heavy in the air, the remnants of a long-dead hearth sitting cold in the corner. Most furniture had either rotted away or been stripped, leaving only faint traces of past life—a broken chair, a shattered ceramic plate, the remnants of a fireplace that hadn't been lit in years.

He sifted through the debris, hoping to find something useful—a map, a ledger, anything that could give them a clue about where they were.

Serana wandered through the ruins as well, kicking aside a few scattered remains in search of anything worthwhile. After some time, they reconvened at the town's center.

"There's nothing left here," she said, nudging an old wooden bucket with her foot. It tipped over, rolling aimlessly before coming to a stop.

"The villagers probably took whatever they could carry when they left," Calion remarked. "And anything that remained was picked clean by scavengers."

Serana frowned, glancing at the decayed buildings. "An entire settlement doesn't just disappear like this. There must've been a reason."

"Maybe we'll find out at the fortress," Calion replied, stretching out his hand as dark energy swirled around his fingertips. A moment later, two Daedric horses materialized from the void, their crimson eyes glowing like embers in the dim light.

Serana mounted her steed effortlessly, adjusting her cloak as she turned toward the road ahead. "Then let's not waste any more time."

Without another word, they set off toward the northern stronghold.

After traveling for some time, the fortress came into view. It was primitive—wooden walls, makeshift defenses, and a palisade that looked more functional than sturdy. This was likely Crow's Perch, before Phillip Strenger—the Bloody Baron—claimed it. That meant the current lord was still the one who would later flee to Fyke Isle, seeking protection from a sorceress.

Serana slowed her horse, taking in the sight with mild disdain. "This place looks unstable," she remarked. "The walls are weak, and most of the buildings are just wood."

Calion observed the settlement, nodding. "Either they were too poor to build proper defenses, or this place is still new."

As they approached the fortress gate, two guards stood watch, spears in hand. The moment they dismounted, Calion dismissed the Daedric steeds, their spectral forms vanishing into the void.

One of the guards stepped forward, blocking their path with a firm stance. "Halt! State your business."

Serana parted her lips to speak, but Calion lifted a hand, silently signaling her to let him handle it. She gave him a mildly amused glance but said nothing.

Raising his palm, Calion conjured a small flicker of fire, letting it dance between his fingers before extinguishing it just as quickly. "We are sorcerers," he said evenly. "We seek an audience with your lord."

The guards exchanged uneasy glances, their hands tightening around their spears. The common folk in this land distrusted magic, and few dared to stand against a mage openly. They had likely heard of Nilfgaard's battle mages or worse—stories of those who consorted with demons. Even a simple demonstration of power was enough to shift the balance of control.

After a brief moment of hesitation, the lead guard straightened. "Apologies, my lord. My lady." He cleared his throat. "I'll take you to him at once."

As they passed through the gates, Serana leaned in slightly, her voice low and teasing. "You were awfully sure they'd let us pass."

A smirk tugged at the corner of Calion's lips. "Simple. Everyone's afraid of mages."

She rolled her eyes but didn't argue.

Inside the fortress, the scene was grim. The town within the walls was in a state of disrepair, its people thin and weary. Beggars lined the streets, their eyes hollow and desperate. Children clung to their mothers, watching the newcomers with wary expressions.

Serana's gaze swept over the suffering townsfolk. "This place is barely surviving," she murmured.

Calion remained silent, his expression unreadable.

It seemed they had arrived at an interesting time.

Following the guard, they made their way toward the inner keep, ready to meet the lord of the fortress.