The two Argonians touched floated down to the ground; much to Seven-Bellies' great shock. The Lukiul elder strode over to Kassamae.
"So, what did you find in that, er, whatever it was. Did you see the entirety of the temple?"
Kassamae shrugged; pointing to her son. She told Seven-Bellies that he should ask Hasir not her.
"You might want to talk to my son about that. I did not have any dogs in that fight. I did, however, help him push back the dark clouds to let the sunshine in."
The lukiul elder turned to Hasir and asked the same question. Hasir told her about the open 'mind field' that he was in and how he saw the entirety of the temple layout, the field of Kynareth and the hidden cavern of Hircine. He then told him about the field where he had met the Doomstrider.
Seven-Bellies looked concernedly at Hasir and inquired who the Doomstrider was. Hasir told him that the Doomstrider was the most faithful servant of Molag Bal. Seven-Bellies look at Hasir taken aback. The argonian was unaware that the argonian elder had not known this. Hasir cursed himself for not having told the Elder of the earlier. Anger rose like a tidal wave within the Argonian; he felt that people should be well informed on their own and not be told of every little thing that transpired, much like a parent talking down an insolent child.
Kassamae inched closer to hr son, offering some placation. Furious, Hasir wheeled around to face her; the fires of Oblivion in his eyes.
"Why must I be cursed with being around stupid lizards and other Tamerielians? Did I just happen to absorb more information from the Hist tree than they did did from their puny Hist sprouts or whatever hole the elves and men crawled out of??"
Kassamae shook her head; saying for him not to think like that, that other Argoians, as well as other races, have there merits as well and aren't just hatchlings floudering about in the supposedly murky waters of existence. Kassamae realized her mistake too late as black fur began sprouting like weeds over the garden that was Hasir's body.
Kassamae cried out, releasing her son. Twilight snarled, eyed Kassamae menacingly and knocked her against the rock wall of the makeshift shrine cracking her head open like a coconut. The elder scurried backward like a frightened spider as the wolf snarled and narrowed his blue eyes at him. Twight let out a terrible roar of fur as he knocked the Argonian elder into the shrine, causing rubble to rain about him like icicles into the sea.
Hasir's anger abated and he looked from the destroyed shrine and the unconscious elder to his mother; head cracked open like an egg and a river of blood pouring from where her skull made impact. Again, Hasir cursed himself.
"I must find a way to contain the wolf, it is not my intention to hurt people nor do I take pleasure in that." He thought to himself.
He strode over to Kassamae - her need was more dire than that of the Lukiul elder - and tried to mop up the blood with a leather cloth he'd removed from his pocket. Supporting her unconscious body, he stared in disbelief at the destroyed shrine and thought on how much he would reprimand Twilight for emerging at an inoportune time. He went back through Seven-Bellies' house to the Lukiul village all the while supporting his mother.
Hasir cast about for any signs of a medical hut. To his relief, he spotted a small round mud hut near a large round mud house he guessed was for purchasing all manner of armor, weapons, enchantments and other merchandise. He walked down the dirt path toward the hut he'd seen earlier, where he met an amber-scaled Argonian named Xochitl.
She eyed him while he laid his mother on a brown reed cot.
"Why have you come here, Argonian? How has, I can only assume... your mother, come to be like this?"
Hasir looked up at the sky and saw it was growing darker before looking at her and yawning hugely.
"She... she just tripped okay?" He said, bluntly. "Leave me alone. I have a lot on my mind, okay?" He snarled as he sat down on the bed across from his mother looking like a jug that had almost all the mead spilled out of it. Xochitl looked at him concernedly and asked him again. Hasir threw his hands up in frustration. "By the nature gods, stop yanking my tail, okay? I am not giving you the satisfation of saying that I caused the volcano of blood spurting from the scaly mountain." He eyed Xochitl and snarled at her, "Just let me sleep ok? We argonians are superb healers. My mom will be fine; leave her alone and the next morning, she will be right as Hist Sap."
Annoyed, he rolled over and let sleep cover him like a thick shroud. His dreams were filled with accusatory finger pointing. Shadow figures flitted in and out of focus, saying that he was a horrible Argonian for injuring his mom and that his blood was now tainted., that Hiricine and Kynareth would surely frown upon this action thus kicking him out of their service and would find more suitable servants; servants would did not break one of their most sacred laws.
The next morning, Hasir awoke, sweat pouring down his forehead. He turned to find Xochitl busy at work crushing ingredients and mixing them with her mortar and pestle. Hasir looked at her, wide-eyed and ran at her, knocking the stone basin out of her clawed hand. Xochitl looked at him angrily, hissing while she saw the spent ingredients pooling, wasted on the floor.
"What did you do that for, your moron? I was trying to save your mother... perhaps you do not wish for me to save her. Perhaps you wish her to be a vegetable for the rest of her days."
Hasir shook his head as though a bothersome bug had nested in his leaf-like hair.
"Are you thick?" He asked abruptly, "of course I do'nt want that. I am not sure if you are aware, but she is a werewolf, a child of Hircine. I am a werewolf as well and, as such, we do not need fancy potion to heal our wounds; our lycanthropes halves do that for us." He sat down on her bed and mutter some words in Jel into her ear. "I pray to the nature gods that it will be enough. I would be hard pressed to plant her permanently in the ground, but if it comes to that, then so be it."
Xochitl looked at him and laughed. She thought the Argonian would be clevere than that.
"No, no, not that type of vegetable. The one I am referring to is when someone needs assistance to go one living."
Hasir''s tail drooped as he got up and returned to his own cot. Concerned, Xochitl asked him what he said to her.
"Oh, forgiving me. I was have a hatchling moment. As to what I said; it was a prayer I heard uttered to dying Saxhleel placed near Hist Trees. It means 'may your spirit come back to us, if that fails, may the river of resrrection speed you on your journey'." He fell silent for a time, thinking on something. "I wonder..." He said, stroking his chin.
Xochitl was about to ask what he wondered when yellow light blossomed by his scaly hands. He focused the light so it was centered on the cracked portion of his mother's skull/ He screwed up his face as healing magic engulfed the wound like a haj mota swallows a hackwing. He knew it was no use as the wound wasn't closing. An idea struck Hasir as the magic faded. He howled out as he transformed into his werewolf form, catching Xochitl by surprise. amberish light blossomed from Twilight's furry palms and, miraculously, the wound started to close up.
Xochitl gazed in awe as the formerly unconscious Argonian's eyes fluttered open. She looked from her son to the Argonian healer.
"How did I get here? Who? Where am I?"
Xochtil looked, confused, from Kassamae to her son.
"How did you-?" She said; her eyes wide.
Hasir leaned against the tent wall; arms crossed.
"I've no idea. Surprised me as well." He said, shocked. "I had no idea I could do that." He said, examining his hands. I think Kynareth must've..." He said, trailing off.
He went over to help Kassamae to her feet and explain over and over how sorry he was for causing her injury. The female Argonian shrugged it off.
"Don't worry about it Hasir. Thanks for healing me by the way. If you hadn't've healed me, I would have beena joiined my ancestors sooner than I would've liked." She looked up at Hasir with a puzzled look, "While I was unconscious, I had a vision of a falcon and she told me that you employed healing magic as a werewolf. How did you manage that?"
Hasir shrugged and sat down on his cot; eyeing his mother with quiet concern.
"No idea. Isn't Kynareth's form normally a canary? You told me so after you experieced a vision near Whiterun."
Kassamae scratched her neck in apprehension.
"It is, but she can manifest any type of bird since she is the matron of nature and its elements. I've no idea why the green lady chose to implement her son's werewolf form with healing magics. I am, however, grateful that such an odd thing happened."
Hasir nodded uneasily and watched as the medical Argonian cleared his mother to leave the tent. At that moment, her husband, a grey faced, white muzzled Argonian walked into the tent.
"Xochitl, how's your patient? I she awake?"
Xochitl nodded and then itroduced Hasir and Kassamae to her husband.
"Hasir, Kassamae, I would like you to meet Garrus. He became a Lukiul after the An-Xileel had suspected him of espionage against Black Marsh. He is also here on the pretense that he heard you have been forming a resistance of every race on Tamriel to fight againt Molag Bal." Hasir cocked his head at this; he was unsure how Xochitl's husband heard about this, especially when he'd not told anyone his intentions.
Garrus took the bed that Kassamae vacated and laughed at the expression on Hasir's face.
"The hist told me of your plans and I..." He hesitated. "I would be honored to join you. Molag Bal will pay for what he has done to our people. Burning tress, slaughter Saxhleel left right and center. Just say the word. I am yours to command."
Hasir nodded and sat down on the bed opposite from Garrus.
"I am honored, Garrus. We will kill, er, incopacitate Molag Bal and his twisted followers."
Garrus's forehead creased at the Argonian's joyous expression; not wanting to sour that sunny sky with a single cloud.
"A-about that..." He swallowed; wondering how best to proceed. "You know the An-Xileel?" Hasir narrowed his eyes and let loose a loud hiss. Garrus scratched the back of his neck in a sheepish manner. "They are, erm, how best to put this...? Hasir, they are sleeper agents that work for Molag Bal. He can activate them whenever he wants. I might hesitate to say that they are his deadliest allies in his mission to bring down the 'vile dogs' that dare to soil the most holy of unions... his words, not mine."
Hasir stood up strode over to Garrus and hissed into his ear.
"You are just mentioning this now? What evidence do you have of thisss? If there's no proof, than it is just as good as a theory. Theory, while good and all, are mice that scatter before the pouncing khajiit that is irrefutable fact. I ask again Garrus, How do you know this? Has Molag Bal spoken to you directly?"
Garrus lowered his voice so as to not be overheard.
"I have not heard anything myself but," He looked outside the tent to ensure he wasn't being overheard. "My mate, Xochitl, she is not who she says she is, she healed your mother, yes but only to get your off her trail.
Hasir furrowed his brow; he hadn't the fientest of what the grey Argonian was on about.
"Garrus, tell me she's not linked to those... animals." He asked, pleadingly
Garrus glanced worrieldy from the tent flaps to Hasir and sighed.
"She is. As I have told you previously. Listen I've sent a contact of my own to Black Marsh to investigate the An-Xileel. I'm sure you've heard of her. Her name is Tigress."
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