The reptilian and feline companions found their way into a massive cathedral with scenes of death and destruction painted on the windows. Hasir turned his head this way and that, noting the poor khajiit getting his soul siphoned off through multiple phases. From khajiit to gruesome soul shriven. There were more windows further into the church that, Hasir saw, depicted others races turning into daedric monstrosities as night fell.
Hasir turned to Inigo and gestured to the windows set, evenly spaced, in the black stone.
"I think that Molag Bal gave this to Khamara as a house warming gift... in exchange for siphoning souls for him." He shuddered, tail between his legs. "Must be horrible, to do a job as cruel as that for an even more heartless master. The reward of service having your skin torn away, leaving you a soulless slave for all eternity? No thanks." He said, shuddering. I'd rather keep my soul instead of being a walking corpse." He gestured to the windows again. "Why woukd anyone go through that misery just to feel like they belong? Makes me sick just thinking about it."
Nanaki walked over and eyed Hasir with a raised brow.
"I think you are mistaken." He laughed, "This wasn't her home, it was her prison." He shook his head as he walked away muttering something about Argonian and their lack of seeing the innards of the stormcloud instead of the fluffy exterior.
Hasir looked at the windows again and, a lightning bolt of realization flashed in his brain.
"Yep, that.... that makes alot more sense." He agreed. "But, I do have one, well, two questions. If this was Khamara's prison, what was she in prison for and how did she transform, or rather, her flesh melt off?"
Nanaki looked from Inigo, who went white with anticipatory terror to Hasir, sick with yearning.
"Okay." He said, a lumping forming in his throat. "Look, I'm not exactly sure I should be telling you this, but... long ago, before Nirn was a concept, Molag Bal's wife, Meridia, goddess that shuns undead in all of its forms, birthed two children; Molag Grunda, khamara. He suddenly gre tired of Merida and cast her aside for a pretty, young girl name Lamae. He courted her....."
Hasir threw an unexpected bombshell, making the red khajiit's train of thought derail spectacularly.
"You're saying the demon of schemes raped that innocent woman?" He interjected.
Nanaki groan and reluctantly agreed.
"Yes, for lack of a better term, he raped her. Is that acceptable?" Hasir nodded. "Okay so he raped Lamae and, according to Molag Bal he had designs to use her as a projenitor for his race of vampires that we know today. So, when Khamara, still a kitten when she lived at the castle, Wolfthorn, she rushed in and, seeing her father seducing this stranger, grew jealous and killed Lamae. Molag insisted she be gone from his sight, still she kept stabbing. Enraged, he threw her into a chapel halfway across the region... this chapel." Nanaki said, making a wide, sweeping gesture to the blackstone church. Once there, er, her, she served out all of her kittenhood." Nanaki held up a finger as Hasir moved to speak, "until, she was fifteen and she went to work for Molag Bal at the soul-sucking industry of chaotic creatia... more specifically, the creatia that exists in this realm. The kind that creates soul shriven upon the mortal bodies death."
Hasir looked fearful; not for the khajiit but for the dangerous work that must've transpired at the 'ethereal soup' plant. Nanaki told Hasir as they walked deeper in the chapel than, one day while working, she fell into a vat of the priordial mixture. That story, as weall know, is utterbullshit. The real tale... I'll tell you once we open these... blasted...doors." He said, frustrated, as he threw all his weight against the door. "The real reason is that Molag Bal created a shadow being that overtook her. "That, he said, made her more spiteful toward any who sought to take Molag Bal away from her. To that end, she provoked an Altmer to fall in love with one of Hircine's creations. She also mad her father court Kynareth, thus insiting Hircine's fury. Once that was complete, she plotted the Doomstrider's downfall and swore only she was to be Molag's right hand khajiit. She also bred the horsebound draugr." He turned to Hasir, "I'm sure you've seen them?"
Hasir nodded just as they walked toward a set of silver double doors set into the black stone at the back of the chapel.
"Yes, I've seen them. Khamara is behind all this?" He asked, "I know she kidapped the quad of fate. Did her hate also create their prison? I thought Molag Ball was the one we're fighting, not his daughter."
Nanaki laid a hand on the silver door. He eyed Hasir who chewed on his every last word like a wolf craving meat.
"I wish I knew. I am a mere servant of Nirn herself. For that, I'm afraid we'll have to go straight to the bird's nest to face the king bird himself."
Hasir signalled for Nanaki to stop and look at the doors. he did so and looked at the silver barricade; his jaw dropped. Where there had been nothing before, blossomed a thin strand of golden light that wove itself into words.
"For all ye who enter, take warning; behind here lies pure dark. One may enter, no more, no less. For if multitudes enter, they will appear and drag off the interloper. Enter one, however, you are safe from the dreadful blinding mist. Any more and abandon all hope. Heed these warnings or surely perish. The mist differentiates neither seeker nor intruder. Heed the warnings well lest ye rot forever in Oblivion."
The argonian scoffed as he and Nanaki entered. Immediately, Nanaki was blown backward as if by a strong wind. Mist, as foetold in the warning, surrounded the church like a pack of wolves surrounded prey and up from the thick mist rose countless black and violet skeletons with blue eyes. Bits of rubble fell near the two companions as one of the corpses climbed through the hole in the ceiling and grabbed Nanaki. Hasir ran to the window, mouth agape, as he saw his friend cling hopelessly to an ever unwinding lifeyarn. His screams subsideed as he was enveloped by the thick mist. Hasir tried to reach him, but his parents, who materialized behind him, advised against it.
Hasir had no time to mourn Nanaki as he and his parents returned to the silver doors. The argonian placed his scaly hand on it and pushed. He looked at his parents and cast a candlelight spell. Guided by the white light, they entered into a realm of pure darkness, the trees weren't much help either; seamlessly blending into the shadows. The sky was a mixture of yellowish-white coupled with bluish-black. There were also particles peppering the ground as if from an nonexistent fire.
Hasir held the ball aloft as he navigated the all-encompassing darkness. He soon came to a fork in the dead trees, uncertain of which path to take, he waved the bll side to side, illumination the possible paths in front of him. He decided to take the path leading off to the left as something told him this would lead to the gods of fate.
A little ways on, he saw a signpost sticking about an inch out of the ground. It read 'Sanctuary of Hteranyk, straight, Forest of paralyzed fear, right'. He decided to take the right path. He guessed that Hteranyk was Khamara's daedric name. Not too soon after the impromtu roadsign, he saw, through the trees, yet anoth batch of draugr doing some wierd dance around a dead stump. Upon closer inspection, he saw a dunmer with strange markings like the ones he beheld in Elsweyr. He also noted she had a black hood over her head.
He crouched down and crept, quietly as he could over to where Ithelia was bound; trying to avoid the macabre dance. Once he got to the tree, he knelt down and undid Ithelia's bindings.
"Do you have any idea who did this?" Hasir asked after the dunmer was cut free. "Do you know where the other gods of fate are?"
Ithelia spread her hands wide as if summoning their unknown auras and shook her head.
"I've no idea. There's a temple north of here. Perhaps they are in there? She suggested. "If not that, then boil me in the fires of Red Mountain because I'm just about burnt out." She said, head hung low.
Hasir nodded. He was about to turn around when a mindfish splash spotaneously into his pool of thought.
"Before I go, do you have and information about Hteranyk? On the same token, have you heard of Khamara?"
Ithelia stayed silent for a long time. Hasir feared she became despondent. He feared he'd offended her in some way. When he thought all hope was lost, Ithelia came up for air.
"I know not of Khamar. Hterakyk, though, I have heard of. It just so happens that I was in Hermaeus Mora's library. What am I saying? His whole realm is a library." Hasir glared at her, snarling in impatience. Ithelia put her hands up, "Okay, okay, keep your muzzle on." Hasir unsheathed his waraxe, unbeknownst to her, she had hit a sore spot. "No need for violence." She said, rather nervously. "Poor choice of words, sorry. I mean, erm... I was in his library when I saw various black books entitled 'Fate of the Daedra'."
Hasir sheath his waraxe but eyed the daedric prince suspiciously.
"It was in these books that I found passages that stated Hteranyk was so chaotic, even moreso than Molag Bal, that he tried looking her away. That didn't work as she had Molag Bal's number from the start. finally fed up with her antics, he banished her to this place, the Moonless Walk, to wander for all eternity. She, however, grew wise and got out. She commandeered a ship and phased it through the doors leading to the black chapel where she found a little kitten." Hasir thanked her. She looked at him, rather sheepishly, "That's, erm, how the ta,e goes. You do now not to blindly trust folktales as there is always more than meets the eye? Sometimes, you have to read beyond the cover and peer at the pages."
Hasir gasped as realization crashed over him.
"That must've happened when Khamara was sent there!" Ithelia shrugged and said it was possible. "So you're saying that Htenaryk possessed Khamara, forcing her to do terrible things topside. Things like confronting me at the farms north of Cheydinhal and other things?"
Ithelia nodded. Hasir, his mother and father thanked her and walked to the northern temple.
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