Hasir saw, through his closed eyelids, a kaleidoscope of blue, black and grey images until he broke one of the kaleidoscopal windows and landed like a shooting star making landfall on a bit of land with rocks that spiraled towards the sky as if they were reached for, a denied by, the very gods that Coldharbor denied.
The argonian stireed and looked about him as the alien yet familiar landscape sneered back at him.
"How did I get here? Damn that khajiit! She must have done something."
As if on cue, the sky shimmered with a magnified image of the same mysterious khajiit cloaked in velvet moon and stars.
"I hope you like your new home." She said, laughing. "I'll have some friends for you shortly."
Hasir looked at the sky and hissed indignantly.
"What in the nature gods' realms are you talking about?"
The image in the sky looked taken aback. She then laughed mercilessly.
"Haven't you figured it out yet? The gods of creation looked with favor upon those who created Nirn, namely the nature gods, Kynareth and Hircine as well as the quad of fate, though, I doubt you can count the Doomstrider among them because his aleggiance, I fear, is still tied to Molag Bal, though, he, himself, would never admit that."
Hasir looked at the distored image of Khamar and laughed.
"Ha! The doomstrider will never work for Molag Bal ever again. Told me himself." He said, confidently
Khamara smirked at the Argonian's apparent naivite.
"The doomstrider is part of the gods of fate so he, and by extension, the whole lot of them have to pay." She said as thunder cracked the sky. To that end, I divised a plan to trapped you in the very book that you recieved form the unforgiving land of Skyrim. The other details of my plan are not important, farewell for now and, enjoy your new prison."
The voice vanished leaving Hasir to his thoughts. Before he had time to overthink the implications of Khamara's words and becoming thoroughly depressed, a silvery sheen danced across the bluish-black sky. Hasir stared at this in confused wonderment, mostly because he knew that Coldharbor didn't operate in quite the same fashion as Nirn did. He watched as the silvery substance did its celestial dance across the sky much like a wayward sparkler. It shot towards Hasir like an otherworldly comet, stop a few feet shy of the Argonian.
Hasir approach the silver light - he had to shield his eyes for its sheer brightness. As he drew closer, the silver light diminished and transformed into a lupine creature. He knew it was such a hopeless endeavor for the thing to respond but, he attempted anyway.
"Hell? Is anyone there? Ocheeeva? Drujeeta? Anyone there?"
The silver wolf padded closer to him, assaulting his scales with its sandpaper tongue.
"It has been a long time, my son. The spirits have sent me to navigate you through htis endless night and back to the waking world." It said, all the while wagging its tail. "Your father should be along shortly. Though I can't say he'll be pleased to see you." She warned with a slight snarl. Just then a bron streak shot across the sky and came to rest next to the silvery wolf.
As expected, the brown wolf averted his eyes from his son. Hasir gulped as he saw clear upon his brown fur patches of blackened, burnt fur.
"Come to burn me again? Are you that angry that you burn things without a second thought? I, however, came at the behest of your mothee to aide you in finding a way out of this dreary prison."
Hasir's eyes narrowed at the implication in his father venomous words.
"Look, can't we let bygone be bygones?" He asked. A sudden thought entered the raging waters of his mind. "Is my brother, Tulen going to join us as well?" He said, although, he felt like he already knew the answer.
His auntt shook her silver head to affirm her son's - or rather, nephew's - doubts.
"No, he is nnot. His spirit resides in the hung grounds. Hircine permitted us to come because he heard you were in grave peril. He only sent us because he knew our presence would make your fire burn brighter than it would have of your rother tagged along. He told us something about a female khajiit entrapped you. Is she cute? do you see yourself making a future with her?"
Hasir groan and threw his hands up in frustration. He hated when his parents, apdoptive or otherwise, took an unhealthy interest in his life.
"Dujeeta, that is.... eurgh! No, I would never... What in Tamriel? Just No, gross! I have a girlfriend already. If we get out of here, I could introduce you to here."
Drujeeta shook her silver mane again and growled softly to herself as if to say 'you don't need to be so formal. From now on, until we get out of her, call me by my wolf name... Silver Moonhowl."
Hasir groaned and took a deep breath to calm his raging waters.
"Okay, Moon, do you know where Ceralyne is? Did she end up here? See, she was plucked from the wooden garden of a treacherous Altmer and I looked even in the devil's lair for her. Now I ask again, Is she here?" He yelled, grasping his leaf-like hair in a deranged gesture.
Drujeeta, or rather 'Moon,' again shook her head and gave a howl and transformed into a ghostly white Argonian.
"Hasir, I do not know where she is..." She said, putting her hand and his shoulder, She suddenly jerked her head around, looked to the horizon and gestured in a triumphant manner, "Nevertheless, we will find heer." She glanced at him in confusion, "By the way, how did you two meet?"
Hasir gulped hard and debated whether or not he wanted to tell her lest she be one of those who distrusts foridden love. He looked at his father's wolf form and could've sworn he saw a glint of fiery hatred in those golden eyes acccompanied by a slight snarl.
"I met Ceralyne in the temple of Kynareth. I was being treated for a broken leg and she for a broken leg so we bonded over that and before either of us knew it, we were doing the 'doggie paddle' on dry land... er... if you get my meaning." She nodded while glancing at her wolfish husband; knowing all too well their moondance. "Well, I ventured back to Blackmarssh, the drykillers - Argonian guards sent to protect the sunny swamp - followed me to Summerset, her homeland, and attempted to kill her and I - how was I to know scales and sun-kissed skin don't mix?"
Drujeeta groaned and ran an exhausted hand down her scaly face.
"Hasir, enough. Just tell me the basics. I do not need her entire life story."
Hasir cursed himself for his verboseness and trying to cut to the part were the wolf gets the rabbit.
"Erm... sorry. Right, so, you've her of the 'forbidden union' between one of Moalg Bal's children and Hircine's?" Drujeeta nodded. "Well, erm... My mom hasn't found out yet. I am worried that if my dad does, he'll be redder than his flame-singed fur... er, no offense." He said, eying Itansehk out of the corner of his eye.
Drujeeta reassured him that Itansehk might look fierce as a wolf but is actually a playful puppy and no use being afraid of. Hasir thanked her.
"Phew! That's water off my back. The stream is clearer for you having told me that. Anyway, as you may, or may not, know, the Altmer populace frowns upon mixed race relationships so we had to hide our love from my race and hers. Her family is part of the Thalmor, the law enforcers for the Altmer and won't be afraid to stamp out any injustice they find. They must've somehow got in contact with the drykillers of my homeland; maybe they used the Rootworms?"
Drujeeta considered this for a moment and eyed her nephew with an expression of purest confusion.
"Who or what is a rootworm? I've lived in Blackmarsh ever since my tapestry has begun weaving and I've never seen one. This 'forbidden love' concept you have between you and the Altmer, tell me more."
Hasir looked at her in silence for a long moment before answering.
"You've never ridden inside a rootworm!? Not even once? Your egg must've spend too much time in the shade. As for the 'forbidden love concept' He said, using his claws to form qoutation marks. "As for that, I told you all that is prudent to get my stroy across the stream of thought; no more, no less.
Drujeeta was about to argue, but he silnced her; literally putting a finger in the midst of her bubbling thoughtbrook. Drujeeta narrowed her eyes and hissed like an enraged snake. Out of the corner of his eye, Hasir saw his father transform.
"Has my son come here to literally burn me agin or am I not ripe enough to pick yet?" Itansehk said with disdain.
Hasir turned and readied his flame whip as, with his aunt, a ghostly reptilian outline inched towards him; this one with darker pale patches marring his cyan ethereal body.
"Itansehk, how... pleasant for you to show." He said, eyes narrowed and teeth bared. "Come back for more have you? Fine, no scales of my grave stake. Give me your worst." He said, sweat pouring from his body, presumably from the heat of the whip.
Just as Itansehk was about to leap on his nephew like an enraged sabrecat, Drujeeea yelled at them to stop being foolish and demanded her brother to apologize, either that or her nephew apologize for cooking his father like a pig on a spit over an open flame. They ignored her and continued falling towards each other; hatred filling their eyes.
Drujeeta turned away and addressed the bluis-gray dust on a plane that stretched to infinity.
"I've no idea why I even bother." She said, looking confused. "To oblivion with it, then. Let them sew the ground with plants of Hathred, make fireballs with their eyes, why should I care?"
A voice came from behind the femal Argonian, making her scales go white.
"Hello?" She said, sounding frantic. "Show yourself, spawn of Molag Bal." She unsheathed a ghostly pale sword, eyes set, teeth bared.
A man wearing a deer skull for a head appeared out of thin air inches from her snout, raising its hands to shoudler height.
"Stay your anger. I came here to deliver a message. The stream knows not the direction in which it heads, be it over immovable rock or easily shifted soil."
Drujeeta glanced over her shoulder and was meet with an expanse of barren bluish-grey rock and cold burning sky. She shrugged the momentary confusioon off and looked all about her surroundings to ascertain where the voice was coming from as if she were looking for a fleshfly to swat. Just then, a man wearing a bi-colored suit - orange and purple - steeped into her line of sight. The female Argonian got so startled by the surprise visitor that she almost trod on her tail.
"Sheogorath? What in Hircine's name are you doing here?"
Sheogorath tried to form a winning smile, but his mind ultimately won that war; forcing him to sigh and resign to a more meloncholy expression.
"Nice to see ya lizard. I was just in the neighborhood and I wanted to tell you a tale." Drujeeta gasped as she frowned, looking at her own. "I am not talking about your tail, ya daft mortal, I am more going on about a story, a yearn with which I sometimes play with, ya know, to confuse and confusticate mortals. Anyway my tale is stated thusly: thrown into chaotic Oblivion, your reptilian nephew was. Thrust upon that which men fear to tread by a cat of shadows. The scaled one must find a temple, set deep into the foul rock, fasioned out of ancient sandstone and flanked by twin gods of death. Within sits three trials that he must face alone. One being a duel with beast of scale and feather. The second, an amalgamation of daedric realms of which the quad of fate are king and lastly, defeat the dark floating snake of Akavir. Then, and, only then will you find the way out."
Drujeeta cosidered the riddle for a moment; racking her reptilian brain for any inkling of meaning.
"So your saying that Hasir has to do this, by himself, with no outside help? I bet your forgot about his flame whip, didn't you. By the way, who is this 'shadow cat' you frequently allude to?"
In rebuttal, the god of chaos chcukled and spread his arms.
"Of course I didn't, scalehead. Yes, he can use his flame whip, but all other methods of fighting and protection will vanish upon his setting foot in the temple. Wouldn't want to make it easy on him, would we?" He said, grinned darkly. With that said, he vasnished into purplish-orange mist, leaving Drujeeta to her thoughts once more.
Drujeeta's tail sagged as her mind raced with unfavorable outcomes should her nephew fail but she shook of this troublesome fly and walked, tail dragging through the buish-grey dirt, until she found her nephew sitting on one of the rocks that leant against the massive blue walls that surrounded the way, Drujeeta saw, to an exquisitely designed temple.
"What's on your mind? Why's your face doing the dance of the peensive?"
Hasir had only just then noticed her, standing with such curiosity, much like Inigo does when Hasir'd have nightmares. He told her of the khajiit who trapped him in this warp reality and how he planned to get revenge of her. Drujeeta nodded; not entirely sure this was the best avenue to venture down. Still, though she listened, giving Hasir encouragement and reassurance.
The male Argonian lifted his head from the cocoon he had formed with his hands and smiled at her.
"You're right, I...erm, I've been stupid. I shouldn't let Khamara nor this place get me down. I should bolster my courage and press on, no matter the obstacles in my way. I will ttake whatever trails lay ahead of my and mold them into an experience to leearn from. I shall not let them have me retreat inside my shell. I am strong, resilient and brave, though I may not look it. We argonians have a long history to be proud of. I erect the spines of shame at my one bullheadedness. The waters must flow on no matter the rocks in its way."
Drujeeta smiled, furthering making Hasir proud of himself. He looked at a point equidistant from both exterior rock wall and saw that even Itansehk was smiling. Hasir, however, thought this was more of a wolfish snarl moreso than a genuine smile. He took it, nonetheless.
Hasir, drujeeta and Itansehk made for the temple at the end of the bluish-grey road that towered above them like gods among fleas.
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