YolGoraagSingh

Makor yells in rage "That bastard will pay for this, he will not harm Sauriil!"

Qorian nods to Makor. "Yes, he will pay... but first, lets hurry up. To the Healer's Center, make haste!" He jogs forward, ushering him and his guards to follow, a grim look of determination set on his face.

Falin forced her eye open, managing to glare at him through a new wave of tears. No matter how she looked at it, she couldn't find an answer to his questions.

He then lets her go, allowing her to drop to the floor as he strides towards her. The process was nearly complete, he just had one more thing left to do... Gain her willing alligiance. He holds out a hand to her.

"Come with me, and we can set things right in the world. Bring peace to Nirn, unite it under a single banner, and end all wars. We can punish the Altmer for their purges they launched in Valenwod... We can rebuild your home. This, I promise."

Falin studied him in silence, unable to speak. You . . . I . . . But, why?

His normally emotionless, echoing voice takes on a barely perceptible pleading tone as he speaks once more, his helmet hiding all emotion.

"You are not Altmer, so thus, you do not deserve this. None but the Altmer do. And soon, the First Order will know justice. Please, do not resist this."

I don't . . . I can't . . . A new tear rolled down her face. She closed her eye and lay there in silence for a long time. Finally, slowly, weakly, her hand reached up for Tiberius.

His larger hand encircles hers in a near-gentle grip, still naturally firm given his size. He, as gentely as possible, pulls her to her feet, before summoning more magic in his free hand.

"Prepare yourself, this will be unpleasent." He then shoots the black sorcery into the mark in her forehead, this time nowhere near as painful as any other time. Soon, she would notice she slowly gains feeling in her lost arm once more, as well as the sight to her lost eye returning. She also feels... other changes. Both physical and mental. ( I'll leave you to post her reaction to her newfound height of... 7'8" and her new, dark form. :D )

Falin groaned, stumbling back into the wall. Her still weak form struggled to stay standing. She looked at Tiberius and blinked. She was almost eye level with the once towering Imperial. "What-?" She hesitated, her voice sounded different, though she couldn't place what it was. She looked at Tiberius confused.

He then takes hold of her hand, guiding her to his personal quarters and revealing a large mirror. He shows the front to her, letting her take in her new, larger form. He crosses his arms as he stands behind her, his emotionless helmet hiding all but his blood-red eyes, as usual.

"Gaze upon your new form. A more perfect form. Perfect in all ways."

Falin gasped. Her right arm looked as if it was made of black fire, yet she could easily move it. Hesiating, she leaned closer to the mirror to examine her new eye. Black mist rolled off it and the blood red iris glowed faintly.

"I . . . wow." she said quietly before blinking. She hesitantly pulled her lip and saw that her lost teeth had grown back and all of them her longer, sharper even. Her gaze traveled over the rest of her form. Many of the scars had faded, though her skin was now much more pale.

Allowed himself a small smile, barely perceptible and easy to miss, as he removes his helmet and tucks it underneath his arm and he continues to look into the mirror. He chuckles slightly, a faint noise, one only an elf or khajiit could pick up clearly. Afterwards, he frowns a bit, before speaking.

"If only the other Immortals would realize the perfection that comes from... this." He raises up his free hand, summoning a swirling, black ball that seemed to bend the very light around its edges (Like a black hole in space) as it noiselessly swirls in his hand.

"Let us hope, that it is not too late for them..."

Falin studied the swirling energy in his hand. "No," Her voice sounded almost cold, distant, "It is too late for them."

On the outside, he is as cold as ever, but on the inside, he is glad so much progress is being made so quickly. He then dispels the energy, before turning to her.

"Now then. As for my promise..." He then walks over to his desk, setting his helmet on it with a thick 'thunk' as he picks up a quill and parchment and rapidly begins to write something out. After a couple of minutes of writing, he folds the parchment and sends it away with a flash.

"Repairs for the forests and homes of Valenwood will be underway shortly. But... I need to know, where did the others flee to?"

She tilted her head slightly, studying him. "I'm surprised you haven't found them already. They fled to Akavir, one of the few so called free places left."

He widens his eyes, before smirking slightly as he chuckles. A soft, genuine sound, yet still hollow.

"Akavir? They will either be devoured by the Tsaesci or be destroyed by us. But before we make any warplans, I shall arrange for you to be settled in, starting with clothes to cover yourself and a true meal, as well as several potions for your health." He calls to the door in Cyrodiilic, several servants coming in with their heads lowered out of respect. Genuine respect, as well as a mixture of fear. One could gather that the people, generally, love and fear him, all at once.

He then barks out something else, them bowing before they scurry off to their respective duties.