They desecended into darkness. Hasir cast a candelight spell to shed some light on the situation. Light danced upon the stone surface of the chamber like fireflies on a summer's night. Seven-Bellies chuckled softly to himself as he witnessed Hasir's wonder. Hasir's face scrrewed up as a questioning fire danced in his eyes and on his face.
"Seven-Bellies, if I may call you that, how long has this chamber been done here? Have you been done here before?"
Hasir's eyes followed the Lukiul elder as he crossed the caverous chamber and leaned against a giant stone wolf standing above a stone altar Hasir guessed was an altar to Hircine.
"You should see you face." He said, chortling. "As for your questions: yes, I have been here before and I would venture a guess of for as long Lukiul Uxith has been here." Hasir opened his mouth to ask a follow-up question but the Lukiul elder put up a finger to silence him. "Before you ask, yes, all Saxhleel pay homage to the green lady, who you call Kynareth and the wolflord, We;ve been worshiping them ever since we shunned the old ways. Don't get me wrong, we still honor them, but, as Kyynareth teaches us, we should cut through the weeds of our past and cultivate the beautiful flowers of our future. She says being stuck the past is like slowly sinking in quicksand; only by grabbing the vines of forward thinking can we slowl or even quell the hold the quicksand has on us."
Hasir nodded abruptly; almost as if he was foricing his brain to comes to terms with a concept he, himself, has not yet been made aware of. He stared at the giant grey stone wolf and the altar below it. For a while, nothing happened. Seven-Bellies smirked at Hasir's slack-jawed face as red-orange fire filled the wolf's roughly-hewn eye sockets.
"Hasir, shut your mouth. You'll let flesh flies in." The elder Lukiul stated. "Looking at you stupified faced, that reminds me, I really should teach you how to fish. It is a favorite sport of all Saxhleel, your understand. Now, what are yyou gawking at?"
Hasir did as the Lukiul elder asked and glaced skyward at the giant Oblivion-eyed wolf. He was so transfixeed that he failed to notice the cyan-colored mist that issued from the wolf's gaping maw. The mist fell onto the altar below like blood spreading out over an open field. Hasir glanced down and leapt back, startled as the mist solidified into a man... well an amalgamation of man with a deceased deer.
"My hound, how nice it is to see you again."
The light green Argonian snarled at the apparition.
"Spare me the nicities. You are not the real Hircine, how dare you speak to me." He said, raving like a mad dog. "What is this place? I thought that the Saxhleel worshipped Sithis. Why the fuck are they consorting with you?" He said,, gesturing angrily toward the bloodred imprint of the wolflord. "You may act all innocent but I know you are no different than any other Daedric. Yes, you may be more aloof than other daedra, prefering to watch rather than interact but what I want to know is why are you using the promise of a better life or you or Kynareth alone know what else to enslave these people into your service. Tell me, 'wolf lord' just what is your ultimate goal? Were you thinking you would just create an army of brainwashed servants to do your bidding, hmmm? Were you hoping that we, your loyal 'servants' would finish off your enemy for you while you sit on the sidelines and watch? Forgive me, but that doesn't seem like a very 'daedric' thing to do."
Seven-Bellies tried to wave Hasir down, explaining that that was indeed the real Hircine; a mere projection of the real thing but the ignorant Argonian wouldn't have it. He was adamant that the weak impression of the prince was, in fact, a ruse set up by Molag Bal to gain valuable intel that he could use against his enemies when the time came. Hasir was so enraged at his own flawed logic that he gently flapping tail suddenly whipped around, phasing through the hologram and smashing into the base of the giant stone wolf causing it to lose its Oblivion-like glow and topple over; tearing a massive hole in the cavern's ceiling, raining stone missiles onto their heads.
Seven-Bellies grabbed Hasir's tail forced it onto the floor, hoping that the Argonian would take the hint and come back to his senses. Hasir did, after a bit, calm down. He glanced up and groaned audibly as he saw the damage he had caused. Stalactices peppered his spikes and hair as he ran after Seven-Bellies who waas protecting himself from the shower of stalactites; utilizing him arms as a kind of shield. After dodging fallen rocks and jumping over bits of pathway that had fallen away, they finally scurried up, and out of, the trap door.
Wehn they were back in Lukiul Uxith, Seven-Bellies rounded on Hasir,
"Why in Oblivion did you do that? You could've easily just kept your opnions to yourself but you had to act that you were in the right. All that lay beneath the trap door now is naught but rubble. Nice going, mud for brains. I cannot fathom how someone like you would ever be useful in Tamriel. A coninent where only the strong-willed survives and the thin-skinned, or scaled in your case, is fit to be culled like a fungus on a tree." He said, fuming like a teapot left on the stove.
Hasir tail flapped wildly about as he attempted to keep his emotions in check.
"It may be a foreign concept to your, elder, but, I was not raised under a Hist and as such, I do not have the steadfastness they instill on every Saxheel that was birthed under them." He sighed, "I don't trust daedra even if their intentions are good." He looked at Seven-Bellies and gave a 'shrug,' "I don''t know how better to explain it. I watched my brother, sister, and parents ride away, abandoning me took a hold on me and I guess that evolved in mistrust."
Seven-Bellies placed a caring hand on Hasir's shoulder and embraced him, much to the gree reptile's embarrassment and guilt.
"I understand how you feel, I truly do. My parents as well as most, if not all, of the inhabitants that reside in this village had their parents abandon them at some point. For me, my parents abandoned me when I was a hatchling. Many of these inhabitants were in my clutch.... erm, that is Saxhleel speak for birth group."
Hasir lightened up somewhat after hearing this confession even thought he was not abandoned, he only felt that deep down, however irrationally.
"Thanks for the attempt at comforting me but I meant that I felt spiritually abandoned from everyone, my parents and the entire Argonian race. "He shooked his head to prove his next point, "I didn't mean being detached as a lizard from a tail. I just feel... that I was born on a higher rung of the Hist tree, forever looking down on the lowly insects as they scurry across the ground forever oblivious of their existence. He gulped and turned his head away as the Lukiul elder looked curiously at him. "I'm sorry," He said hurrieldy, "I meant no offense, I only meant that I feel like I am on the outside looking in." He said, looking at the Lukiul elder, "Have you ever felt like that? Like you were part of something greater than your existence here on Tamriel?"
Seven-Bellies smiled and nodded in ascent. Hasir thought this was genuine but he had a feeling that the elder was just trying to 'symapthize' with him.
"I think all Argonians feel like that. By oblivion, I think living in Blackmarsh instill the value within us that we are to be self reliant and shun anyone trying to assist us in some way because they mistake our neutral expression as 'sullen' when in fact it is not and we definitely do not need the help of outsiders. They just tend to shun and attempt to fix what they percieve as being different and fail to understand us."
Hasir nodded enthusiastically; happy to have someone who fully understands what he is going through and not just superficially understand them much like a mountain tries to understands a river that is constantly chipping away at its hardened exterior.
Seven-Bellies led the young Argonian to a small creek teeming with fish situated near the trapdoor they had vacated minute before. The argonian elder swiped at the water with an ebony-clawed hand, spearing a fish in the process. He beckoned Hasir over as they both inspected the struggling creature. They both looked at it; Hasir, in disgust and Seven-Bellies in awe and wonder. Hasir covered his mouth with his elbow, fighting the urge to throw up. He had thought all creatures, even fish, were part of the whole living system that Kynareth had created; and as such, ought've not to be harmed.
Seven-Bellies lifted the fish toward the sea green Argonian who was turning shades paler all the time. Hasir waved his hand at it in revulsion.
"No thanks," He said, seeing the stream of sanguine running down the elder's claws. "I just ate..." He screwed his face up as he looked from Seeven-Bellies to the now stone-cold fish, "How in Kynareth's name can you do such a thing? Killing an innocent creature to prove your mastery over it? Disgusting." He said, shaking his head.
Seven-Bellies laughed and took a big bite of the raw fish. Hasir had to fight the flood of vomit; lest it forced him to drown.
"It is what Argonians do. We are, by our very nature, both innate and otherwise, at one with nature. We do uphold the laws of nature and the beast."
Sven-Bellies tried to offer the fish to the now putrid green Argonian who covering his mouth with his hands; taking this as a 'no,' the elder continued devouring the fish. When he had finished, he got up and turned to the miniscule temple of Kynareth. Seeing this, Hasir looked where the elder had his laser-like gaze.
"Do you know that this temple," The elder began in somber tones, "is not the real temple of Kynareth? It is but a shadow of the more impressive temple found deep in Blackmarsh near Root Whisper village?" Hasir screwed his face up in thought; the only temple he'd heard of was the one in Whiterun. "Ah, the temple in Blackmarsh, how I do miss it." Hasir asked what his rank within the Blackmarsh temple was. "I was not a priest, no, although I do aspire to someday hold such a position." Seven-Bellies said, sensing the question hanging, like saliva, on Hasir's tongue. "I was, and in many ways, still am, a lawman of the temple." Hasir looked at the Lukiul elder inquisitively. "I sense you are going to ask me what a lawman does." Seven-Bellies said, smiling at the young Argonian. Hasir nodded; not sure how the elder knew this. "A lawman, well it's in the name. He makes sure everyone, except the priest and priestess, uphold the laws set forth by the latter."
Hasir's mind drifted, like a stray boat on the Padomaic ocean, void of waves for a while and then a particularly large wave rocked his boat.
"Elder, erm, about the temple deep in Blackmarsh, how does it compare with this one?" He lowered his head and mumbled an apology. "Also, sorry about the little fiasco in the caverns." Seven-Bellies walked over and grasped the Argonian's shoulder and said that boat is best kept under the docks instead of floating free on the sea of confusion. Hasir lifted his head, nodded and took a deep breath. "I apologize for the momentary lapse in judgement."
Seven-Bellies shrugged and grinned; he knew perfectly well what the young Argonian was going through.
"It's ok, happens to the best of us. It happens to me more times than I care to admit. Anyway, time to cast a new boat onto fresh waters. You asked how this compares with the one in Blackmarsh? Well, for one thing, that temple is much bigger than this one; at least five times its size. You could fit twenty shrines of this size into that temple. "For another thing, that temple is teeming with wildlife of all shapes and sizes. Whenn your there, you can feel the temple almost radiant with the majesty of the green lady "
All while Seven-Bellies spoke, images came to Hasir's mind and played out like a silent movie viewable to no one else but him. In his own personal 'movie' he was walking through the deep marshes toward a village comprised entirely of stone where a sap speaking stood guard over the Hist tree newly revived from some horrific misfortune that had previously befallen the village. He 'saw' the trees branches looked like giant arms, flunged wide to protect the village; shading it from even the harshest light. Hasir when down a path near the tree and found himself in a wide open field overgrown with curved tree roots and, traversing through them, he saw a magnificent sight: a tan-stone temple overgrown with greenery snaking its way up the four stone pillars that stood atop four steps spanning the entire entryway. Atop these were birds of various species. An open beaked canah, a yellow and black bird said to be one of Kynareth's favorite forms, an steadfooted canary, a falcon primed for flight and an eagle, likewise primed for flight, said to be revered for its keen eyes and wisdom; all immobilized in stone.
He looked from the bird topped pillars and marveled at the intricate details etched into the stonework and a stone deer head, wolf head, that of a hare and that of a badger. Hasir saw that every bird was connected into a greater web of connectivity.
Seven-Bellies finished his comparison. He turned to Hasir, who opened his eyes and smiled.
"I see that you have made your mind wander far across Tamriel to visualize the temple. Tell me, what did you think of it?"
A huge grin pulled at the edges of Hasir's otherwise stoic expression.
"I thought it was breathtaking." He said, entusiatically. "Does this bigger temple also have a shrine to Hircine? Because if not, I am sure my home in the hunting grounds with more than fill that role."
Hasir chuckled silently as the Lukiul elder stared at him, incredulously.
"Wait... what?" The elder sad, gobsmacked. "How did you get that highly prestigious honor? Hircine didn't take you there personally did he?"
Hasir chuckled again and nodded. He said he'd bring him there sometime if he wished. He told Seven-Bellies to tell him more of who the proper priest, or priestess, of the Blackmarsh temple was.
"Wha? Oh right." The elder said, temporarrily lost in the waters of his thoughts.
A rushing of leaves could be heard on near Hasir and Seven-Bellies. Hasir spun around to see what the reason of the disturbance was; expecting a fox or rabbit. No such creature emerged. A slender argonian female with brown and white ancestral Saxhleel robes and milky-white eyes stepped toward Hasir.
"I am the priestess of Kynareth."
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