The Villain Rehabilitation Programme

The Villain Rehabilitation Programme

"Why do I have to wear this infuriating form?" grumbled Caprifexia as she hiked up the narrow, windy, snow covered path with her silly little booted mortal feet.

"You know why Capri," said Einar. "The Psijic monks are already annoyed at you as it is, no need to compound matters by making them realise you're actually a tiny dragon in addition to being a fate-wrecking menace."

She and her dragonist-apologist so-called friend were following after one of the Neckbeards, insane mortals who chose to live atop the frigid mountaintop despite being a squishy and eminently freezable. The sun overhead was obscured by grey clouds, and there was a brusque, cool breeze that pulled at her coat and carried small flurries of snowflakes. Normally Caprifexia didn't mind cold weather, since unless you could find a nice volcano, warmth generally meant bugs. Now, however, the frigid wind seemed only another layer of irritation.

Beneath her the eastern reaches of Skyrim and whatever the region beyond it was called stretched out into the distance. If she squinted particularly hard she could make out the lake-side town of Riften where the College had teleported to a week and a bit earlier. There were also, moving slowly along the roads, and small as ants, a constant stream of refugees heading south and east, fleeing the calamity that had so far claimed two cities and twisted and corrupted a huge swathe of central Skyrim. The train had thinned out over the past few days, but there were still a significant number of people on the move. It took time for most of an entire province to evacuate, which according to some of the Psijic monks was what was happening.

Caprifexia rubbed her eyes. She was tired. She hadn't been sleeping well the past few nights, in part because of the irritatingly loud fight that was still going on over near Solemnity between the plane's so-called Gods and the massive Faceless, in part because as the, alleged, 'day of the battle' approached she had been feeling… on edge. Sometimes, if anyone could actually believe it, she might even have described herself as irritable.

She didn't think it was something she'd eaten, and obviously dragons didn't get scared, so she could only put it down to being crammed for days and days and days into the monastery-come-fortress filled with two whole army's worth of suspicious, ungrateful, and nosy mortal mages that complained endlessly: 'hey, don't leave the doors open, it's 'freezing' outside!,' 'hey, she stole my boring and poorly written book!,' 'hey, someone's improved the stupid mortal nonsense I was enchanting and now I'm stroppy about it for totally unintelligible reasons!,' 'hey, she set my bedroll on fire!'

The whinging was constant.

"Why do I even have to be here!?" she continued after a few seconds of tedious silence. "This is boring! I want to go back!"

"Capri, for the love of Mara, I've told you, six times, I don't know!" groaned Einar, as if she was somehow being the unreasonable one. "All I know is that Brother Arngeir was very insistent you come with him, and since I've been told not in no uncertain terms to let you out of my sight, I have to come too. I'd rather be back in the warm monastery too! So stop complaining to me about it!"

Her friend had been appointed her 'chaperone' by the irritating, insolent, patronising, and incredibly ungrateful mortal fools after the alleged 'disastrous meeting' that had been her patiently and diligently explaining the situation to the Psijic fools. Of course, the meeting hadn't been a debacle, and their characterisation of it as such was simply another example of how terribly fragile mortal feelings were.

"Why did it have to be so early?" she said, continuing to critique the situation. "The sun's barely up! I'm hungry! This is boring!"

"It's nearly noon, and you're the one who didn't want to eat breakfast," said Einar. "You shouldn't have stayed up so late reading!"

"Why couldn't we have this meeting in their ridiculous, but at least warm, headquarters!?" said Caprifexia.

"I don't know!" shouted Einar.

Caprifexia glared at Einar, and was about to say something else insightful and brilliant about the unfair and stupid situation when the Neckbeard came to a stop.

"Now Miss Caprifexia, Master Einar," said Arghgear, turning to them. "What I am about to reveal to you is the order's most closely guarded secret, the true leader of the Greybeards-"

"The who?" asked Caprifexia, frowning. She was fairly sure she'd never heard of such an organisation, so why would she care who their leader was? The mortals had gotten her up for this?

Beside her Einar covered his face with a mittened hand and swore softly.

"The- the Greybeards," said Arghgear, thrown by her simple question. "The… Order of which I am a part? You have been staying in our monastery for quite some time."

"Oh, the Neckbeards," she corrected, brushing some snow off her shoulder. "Fine. Continue."

"That isn't… well, I suppose it doesn't matter what you call us," said Arghgear, somewhat thrown. "As I said, the identity of our leader, Grandmaster Paarthunax-"

"Why does your leader have a proto-drake name?" interrupted Caprifexia, translating the mortal's poorly pronounced fake-dragon. "'Ambition, Overlord, Cruelty?'"

"Proto-drake?" said Arghgear.

"She means dragon," said Einar. "She has, err, unusual definitions."

"I… see," said Arghgear. "But yes, as you have surprisingly surmised, Miss Caprifexia, the leader of our Order, the one who taught us the Voice is a dragon, a 'proto-drake' as you say-"

"You serve a villain!?" hissed Caprifexia, summoning lightning to her fists. "I knew there was something fishy about you! Prepare to die, Arghgear-"

"Capri, no!" said Einar, grabbing her wrists before she could heroically atomise the Neckbeard.

"But he's a villain-" she said.

"No," said Einar firmly, giving her a look she knew meant that she was, allegedly, 'in trouble,' before addressing the self-confessed villain-supporter. "Paarthurnax was the one who turned against Alduin, right?"

"I see you know your history, Master Einar," said Arghgear, nodding, seemingly unaware that he was mere moments away from righteous destruction. "Indeed he was, and for years beyond counting he has stayed here in seclusion atop the Throat of the World."

"That doesn't sound villainous, now does it?" said Einar, having the audacity to glare at Caprifexia. "Saving people?"

"What about the Friendly Lich rule?" she protested, nevertheless letting her gathered lightning dissipate.

"Doesn't apply here," said Einar arbitrarily.

"But-"

"Doesn't. Apply,' said Einar firmly. "The Greybeards, and their leader, are our allies. Understand?"

Caprifexia grumbled. Honestly, he liked to complain when she made 'errors,' but then when she tried to follow the heroic rulebook he got all annoyed. It was so unfair!

"Why would I want to speak with an, allegedly, non-villainous proto-drake?" said Caprifexia.

"Master Paarthurnax wishes to meet you, it is true," said Arghgear. "But in this meeting he is merely a facilitator, the one he wishes you to meet is Alduin himself."

"Alduin!?" said Einar, taking a step back. "Fucking Alduin!? The dragon that wants to destroy the world!?"

"I told you this Neckbeard was a villain!" said Caprifexia. "You never listen to me!"

"It is not that simple," said Arghgear, quickly trying to cover up his clear and present villainy. "As you can see, in the plains below us and the sky above, this is not merely a battle for the continuation of man – it is a battle for the continuation of Mundus itself. The Dovah are mighty, and if they can be turned to our cause we just may prevail."

"I… I guess," said Einar, clearly unhappy, but still willing to pathetically contemplate such a compromise. "I suppose we need all the help we can get. If he's willing to help us stop Mirael…"

"This is ridiculous," said Caprifexia, taking control of the situation before her weak willed and gullible friend could spiral into supporting outright villainy. "We spent ages looking for a way to kill him, and now, all of a sudden, we're working with this villain? No, I refuse! I am a hero! The greatest hero! Heroes don't work with villains!"

"Capri, look!" said Einar, turning and pointing behind him, out over what had once been the Plains of Whiterun to where in the distance the huge monstrosity was still battling against something, or somethings, in the clouds. "Look!"

"No. No I say! The 'Friendly Lich Rule' isn't something you can just ignore when convenient," protested Caprifexia, stamping her foot on the snow so hard she sank up to her knee. "It's ironclad. Absolute!"

"The 'Friendly Lich Rule' was about getting you to think through the outcomes of your actions," said Einar. "And to make sure you weren't being tricked into helping a villain. It isn't about working with a villain because you have to to avoid a greater evil."

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"This sounds like typical mortal equivocation," said Caprifexia, wrenching her foot free with a shower of snow. "Are you short-lived monkeys absolutely incapable of moral consistency!?"

"Capri, you know how strong Mirael is," said Einar in totally unjustified exasperation. "We need absolutely every bit of help we can get."

Caprifexia crossed her arms and looked away. It was true that Mirael was horrifyingly powerful. Enough to mildly frighten a mighty dragon like herself. Very mildly, mind you. More gently perturb than frighten, really. But that didn't mean that it would be heroic to work with a nasty, villainous proto-drake.

"Alright… alright," said Einar, massaging his temples in the face of her unshakable draconic ethics. "Look at it this way you're… tricking Alduin into fighting more effectively against Mirael, who the dragons are already battling, by giving him information on how to fight her. Which is something that will ultimately benefit you, and make you… even more heroic!"

"Tricking him…?" said Caprifexia speculatively. She did like tricking villains, that was one of her favourite parts of being the multiverse's greatest hero. "Like diplomacy?"

"Yes, that's heroic, isn't it?" said Einar, nodding. "Convincing a villain to do what you, as a hero, want. Very heroic."

"I suppose," said Caprifexia contemplatively. "Alright, yes, I'll diplomacy him into helping us. But only because I was going to anyway."

"Thank Akatosh," said Einar, praising his probably non-existent 'dragon-"God,"' rather than the very real and clearly superior dragon right in front of him.

"Well then…" said Arghgear, who had been watching their high level debate on heroic ethics with a look of confusion. "Shall we?"

"Very well. You may lead on, Arghgear," nodded Caprifexia, before lowering her voice. "But I'm watching you, maybe-villain."

"That isn't my- never mind…" muttered the old man, leading them further up the snowy path. A few hundred yards later they rounded a large rock and emerged onto the peak itself. The top of the 'Throat of the World' was a large, vaguely circular flat plane of snow with a sharp rocky crag on one side, beneath which sat an ancient looking ruin covered in proto-drake writing.

Sitting on the ruin were two large proto-drakes. The first, and smaller of the two inferior, would-be dragons, looked old and haggard. Here and there bits and pieces of their scales and teeth were chipped, and their eyes were dull and glassy. The second of the faux-Wyrms was larger, and in a pale reflection of her own majesty had glossy black scales, and deep, burning red eyes. Aldoon, she assumed.

"Grandmaster," said Arghgear, bowing his head. "I have brought the young Fracture, as you asked."

"This is the one that disturbs the cycle? The one who erased the Dovahkiin from the Kalpa?" growled the large black proto-drake, who didn't intimidate Caprifexia at all. Nope, not one bit. "A mere elf?"

"Elf!?" spluttered Caprifexia, utterly outraged as she transformed into her real, majestic form and rose into the air. "I am no elf. I am a true dragon! I am Caprifexia, Queen of the Black Dragonflight, Scion of the Titans, and the greatest hero in the multiverse! I am creature of might and magic beyond your comprehension! See, I have four legs-"

"Capri!" hissed Einar, grabbing her tail and pulling her down.

Caprifexia's outrage mounted as she turned back at Einar, snapping her maw at him. "How dare you-"

"Capri," he whispered, a note of pathetic quavering desperation in his voice. "Please, please don't enrage the world-eating dragon!"

"He isn't a dragon-" corrected Caprifexia.

"It is small," growled Aldoon glaring at her with his red eyes.

"Small!?" spluttered Caprifexia, forgetting about Einar. "I'm not small! You're small! Tiny! My father was ten, no, a hundred times your size-"

"Capri, for the love of Akatosh, shut up!" wailed Einar.

"She is what we call the 'Lesser Fracture,' yes," said the Arghgear. "And possesses information on the sorcery employed by our true, mutual enemy. She is, however, ahem, difficult."

"I'll give you difficult, you decrepit mortal maybe-villain-"

"We cannot afford to turn away help, brother," said Paarthurnax. "She possesses wisdom we require. Ni Vus Fahdon, Okinan Ahst Grah."

"Paarthunax, you waste my time with these mortals. What can a tiny elf-lizard hope to teach us?" said the black proto-drake, responding entirely in their silly fake-draconic.

"More than you can possibly comprehend!" shot back Caprifexia in the same tongue. "And I am no 'mortal,' or 'elf-lizard!' I am a true dragon!"

"You speak the tongue?" asked Paarthurnax, clearly awed by her incredible proper-dragon powers.

"I speak all tongues," said Caprifexia, flaring her wings menacingly. "You pathetic drakes are but insects compared to my kind!"

"It is insolent," growled Aldoon, raising his head and baring his teeth.

"You're insolent!"

"Alduin, you have felt the severing of threads as I have. Unless we alter course, all shall end. There shall be no rebirth," said Paarthurnax. "How many Dovah have fallen to these pale creatures, never to rise again? Even Father struggles to wound the monster beneath this peak permanently. We cannot continue as we are. What harm is there in hearing this strange creature out?"

The giant black proto-drake growled, and glared at Caprifexia for several long moments.

"Pruzah," muttered the ebony lizard, switching back to Imperial. "What do you know of these twisted things, these Sivaas Nol Zeim, these creatures from beyond, that resist our Thu'um?"

"Oh, so now you want my help?" sneered Caprifexia.

"Capri!" begged Einar. "Please."

Caprifexia harrumphed. Fine, she'd impart a fraction of her great wisdom, but only because Einar had asked nicely…

"They are creatures of the Void," lectured Caprifexia. "Faceless. They are non-beings that exist in the space between worlds, a realm on anti-reality that constantly seeks to enter and destroy the various planes of the multiverse."

"And why does my Thu'um fail me?" said Alduin.

"Because your silly little proto-drake language is commanding this silly little reality to do things, and they're not part of it," said Caprifexia. "Because, you know, it isn't real magic."

"Capri," said Einar. "Why not some more… constructive suggestions? What could they do to harm it?"

"They could try not being so useless," said Caprifexia. "It might be hard though, since they're not real dragons-"

"Capri!" whined Einar.

"I don't know," said Caprifexia, brainstorming for a moment. "They could try to physically trap, rather than directly harm It. Faceless still need to obey reality to some extent in this realm, so, I don't know, you could put It in a pit or something? Bury It under rock? Impale It with spikes? It will get out eventually, but it might take It a while."

"We have not yet tried this," said Paarthurnax. "I have been unable to speak to Father, have you-"

"His attention is consumed, he does not hear me," said Alduin, shaking his ugly fake-dragon head and flaring his silly arm-wings to leave. "But I shall tell the other Dovah, perhaps he will notice our actions-"

"Great Alduin, please, a moment more," said Arghgear, obsequiously bowing his head to the villain like the spinless mortal he was. "The creature you face on the plains is not what we believe will strike down your father."

"My father is Eternal," said Aldoon. "He has no beginning, no end. Through me he remakes the world in fire."

"And yet the Psijic Order say that not one week from now he will be slain, and Magnus along with him. Grandmaster Paarthurnax says you feel the threads of fate unravelling?" said Arghgear. "According to Miss Caprifexia, the other being like her that will do this is named 'Mirael.' A magus of immense power who will soon assault High Hrothgar. For whatever reason, this place, the Throat of the World, is somehow central to her plans. The Order is sure that this is the site of the final battle. Will you aid us in stopping her?"

"This 'Mirael' is of no consequence," said Aldoon. "The threat lies on the Plains-"

"Wrong," snorted Caprifexia. "Typical small brained, non-dragon reptile; it can't appreciate the true, obvious threat. Of course, you don't understand magic, so I shouldn't really be surprised. Idiot."

"You- you dare?" growled Aldoon, flaring his wings in a pathetic attempt to intimidate her.

"The VIQ of this world is still above one, so the only way a Faceless could be sustained and empowered would be if it was being supplied with a constant stream of Void Energy. Duh," explained Caprifexia. "Mirael is obviously the one doing that; so if you don't stop her, she'll just rip open another tear and bring another through. If you stop her, it will die. As I said, you're an idiot."

"I grow tired of your insolence," growled Aldoon in proto-drake, baring his teeth.

"And I grow tired of your stupidity, you villainous proto-drake," said Caprifexia, summoning dragonfire in the back of her throat. "I knew this so-called 'alliance' was a mistake! I should put you down, you nasty, evil, ugly, overgrown snake!"

Sure, things hadn't gone that well for her the last time she had faced a proto-drake. But that had been months and months and months ago. She was far more powerful, and had a whole string of incredible victories to her name. Not a few weeks ago she'd saved whatever that city plane was called from those blue, cart-driving villains. She might not be able to defeat Mirael in open combat by herself just yet, but could take this little lizard; not only was she a true dragon, she was also a Planeswalker! And as Mirael had shown, Planeswalkers were clearly a cut above the pathetic so-called Gods and Godlings of this world.

Also, she was nearly three!

"Alduin, if she speaks the truth, then we must hold this Peak," said Paarthurnax, interceding to protect their villainous friend.

"If she speaks the truth," said Aldoon. "Perhaps this is all a lie. Perhaps you are in league with her and this is another futile attempt to stop me; to trap me here as your protegees did so long ago."

"If that is the case, then why did she annihilate the Dovahkiin?" challenged Paarthurnax. "It was the Dovahkiin who was destined to stop you in Sovengarde. Why would this strange creature erase them if she sought your destruction?"

Alduin snapped and snarled, but had no rebuttal, and instead glared at the other proto-drake for almost a minute.

"Very well," said the stroppy black-scaled proto-drake. "I will inform the Dovah of this new plan against the creature on the Plains, and then return to guard the Wound. It seems that we shall fight together one last time, Brother."

The pathetic reptile took to wing, turning and gliding back over the twisted plains toward the Faceless monstrosity.

"That's right! Run! Run away, little villain!" she roared after it. "You pale imposter! You spinless worm!"

"Thank-you for your time Grandmaster," said Einar obsequiously, bowing toward Paarthurnax even as he grabbed Caprifexia under her forelegs and lifted her off the ground. "We won't take up anymore of your valuable time."

"Unhand me at once!" said Caprifexia. "I am a dragon! I will not be mortal-handled! Don't think I won't bite you!"

"Not if you're not going to behave," said Einar, grumpily, stomping off down the slope. "Capri, he could have killed us!"

"Pah," sniffed Caprifexia. "I could have taken him. He's not even a proper dragon."

"Not this again," groaned Einar. "And I thought you were getting better! No wonder I've been told to 'not let you out of my sight!'"

"'Getting better?'" said Caprifexia, squirming out of his grip and shifting back into her mortal guise and giving with a withering look. "At what, recognising that the local dragons are pathetic imitations of my kind? I was always a master of that-"

"At not trying to start fights for literally not reason!" whinged Einar.

"It's called Diplomacy, actually," she sniffed, brushing some snow off her shoulder. "You should try it sometime. If you ask nicely, I'll even give you some pointers."

Einar made an incoherent growling sound and raised his hands, miming squeezing something roughly the size of Caprifexia's mortal form's neck.