Invincible

For as long as he could remember, nothing had ever scared Sonac Druden. In all his years of life, he had never met an obstacle too great to overcome. He was an enigma to all who knew him, dark as the night, and as mysterious as the deepest depths of the ocean. No one seemed to know where he came from, no one seemed to care. There had been rumors of course, as there always were. Some claimed he was a spawn of demons, come from the depths of hell, other believed him sent from the Gods, a savior in dark and troubled times. For the most part, decent folk didn't much care who he was or where he called home, so long as it didn't involve them. His age was impossible to tell, magic could prevent a man' s aging, it was said. Sonac's possession of the arcane arts was no secret, he did not wish it nor deem it necessary to be. Aside from his magic and dark, brooding demeanor, he was a mystery in and of itself. Eventually, people began to ignore his presence all together, wondering if he ever existed in the first place. Stories about him quickly became ambiguous as several versions made their way around the alehouses. Rumors stopped spreading as people stopped looking for them, content so long as he did not approach them personally. He never did, of course, and nearly a hundred years passed without a single instance involving him. In time, Sonac Druden dissipated into myth completely, a story made up in tavern's and ale houses, a child's fairytale, believed to be below the common man.

Good, he thought bleakly. He had never much cared for 'regular' people. Tasteless and without vibrance, they lacked color in their dull existence.

A shadow detached itself from within the darkness of the buildings. Slowly, deliberately, Sonac moved towards the Ruhk Mountains, away from the sprawling city of Winterun. He walked silently into the forests surrounded the massive metropolis, keeping his thoughts to himself as he went. A wry smile crossed his lips. Ironic, he thought, that his magic had preserved him for as long as it had. Ironic how he, after so many years, stood alone above all other men on a plateau of his own.

I am invincible, he thought darkly.

Invincible. He mouthed the word to himself, bitterness welling up inside him. He simply could not die it seemed. Of course, he was no fool looking for death, rather it intrigued, fascinated him. Gripped him in a way that was frightening. Many men and creatures alike had been felled by his strength, perseverance, will. He had survived against insurmountable odds while others had perished. His magic gave him a definite edge he knew, but for how long should it last? He knitted his brows fiercely, his face deep in thought.

Well older than he appeared, Sonac continued into the forest, the quiet of the woodland putting him at ease, surrounding him as a blanket would a shivering child on a cold winters night. His long, black cloak billowed in the winter breeze, its color seeming to suck the very light from the air, absorbing its strength, reveling in its power. His white hair hung limply across his ears and into his face. High set and delicate, his cheek bones protruded from under his piercing black eyes, merely dark glints in the shadow of his great brow. Hard and straight, his nose characterized his face, and his life for that matter.