The sun peaked through the window next to the wolf painting above the shrine of Hircine. Rakel, no longer wolf, glanced over to see
Hasir sleeping next to her, sprawled out like a wolf rug someone might have in their house. She jumped a little bit and tried to rouse
Hasir. Depsite her best efforts, he did not wake up. She began to sob uncontrollably and stopped when, scanning his slender
reptilian form, she saw a trickle of blood that ran down his left leg. She gasped and she begged for Hasir to wake up, louder this
time complete with tears moisening her beautiful, brown eyes,
Inigo got up from where he lay and, rubbing his eyes, asked Rakel why she was crying.
"My friend, why all the waterworks?" She said nothing but pointed to the unconscious argonian next to her.
He too saw the crimson soaked leg that she had pointed to. He bent beside Hasir and began to sob.
"Oh, my friend, I am so sorry. What have I done to you? I only meant to injure the strange wolf, not you."
He bent down and picked up the unconscious argonian. The limp lizard's limbs hung like a puppet who had his strings cut. He turned
to Rakel and beckoned him to come up to the second level of the house. He took the salmon-ccolored tablecoth off of the rectangular
table and lay the unconscious argonian onto the table. He wondered if the table would hold his weight; to his surprise, it did.
Aela and Ceralyne smelled Hasir's scent on the air. They had smelled him before but this time, his scent was mixed with blood and
something else. It was a smell neither the elf nor the nord could place. They followed the scent, it got stronger and stronger as they
neared the argonian''s body. It got so strong that they turned away and retched into their hands. Aela felt the argonian's head, it
still felt warm. She sighed with relief.
She looked sideways at Rakel, a questioning look on her face.
"Rakel, how did Hasir come to be like this?"
The nord, who had knelt down beside her open leather bag that sat on the ground and was pulling various medical supplies from her
bag and spreading them on the table, just pointed to Inigo and made a stabbing motion with her hand. Aela had to cover her
mouth to hide the fact that she was crying. She did not want anyone to know she cried, or even had a soul otherwise. If they knew,
she would find a way to make the rest of their life a living hell. She finished crying and wiped her eyes, smiling at Rakel and Inigo.
She looked up on the table and beside Hasir, she saw linen wraps, gauze pads, some mead used for stauncing wounds before
dressing them and antitoxins for whatever poison Hasir was infected with; if he was poisoned at all.
Aela stood up and glared across the table at the khajiit, who started backing his chair up to achieve some distance between him and
those angry eyes.
"Damn you to oblivion, you careless cat!" She sighed and put her chin in her hands and rested it on the oaken table. "So," She said
sweetly, "care to tell me why you did this?" She asked, glaring at him, stabbing the table with a dagger she had used to threaten the
khajiit.
Inigo sighed heavily and spoke.
"Well...You see...it's...erm...I...er..." He stammered, starting to fall over his words. He paused and thought it out before finally
starting again. "When we were in the basement," He gestured between himself and the argonian, "My friend went somewhere and
when I turned back after being mesmerized by the moon, a large black and white wolf stood there, snarling at me. I did not know
what to do."
Aela glared at him, spreaading her hands wide.
"So you... what? stabbed him?"
Inigo nodded solemnly, reached into the pockets of his armor and withdrew a silver dagger. He slid it over to Aela. The nord's eyes
grew from marbles to golf balls. She had to restrain herself from transforming into red and chasing the khajiit like a cat would a
mouse with the intent to kill.
Aela shot daggers at the khajiit again.
"You fucking moron, do you know what silver could do to people like us?" Inigo just stared blankly at her. She huffed impatiently,
"Werewolves." She spoke the word slowly as if she was talking to a child who did not understand the concept.
Inigo gave her a sheepish grin.
"Erm...I'm sorry, I did not know." He smiled warily at the hot-tempered nord.
Aela scowled at him; never believing in her life that there could be someone so ignorant.
"That's right, you didn't. Hircine help me, if he survives, I will make it my mission to make every day of your life as miserable as the
next." She excentuated this with a raised, clenched fist.
Rakel did all she could for Hasir; she bent over the unconscious argonian.
"Hasir, please come back to me. I miss you being here. Your smile is what brings light to the darkness. I love you." As she said these
last three words, she kissed him on his forehead.
She said this as though Hasir could hear her but he couldn't. Rakel sat down in her seat, slumped over the table in a depressive
state and cried uncontrollably. Inigo went to sit next to her and offered her his furry shoulder to cry on. Wiping her tears, she looked
up, saw Inigo next to her, smiled and buried her face in his furry chest.
She looked up at him, glad to have some ray of light in a seemingly endless sea of darkness.
"Inigo, I miss him so much. Why did you do this to him?" She said, her face screwed up in confusion.
Inigo hesitated for a moment and then looked down at her with his pumpkin eyes,
"I am sorry. Really I am, but he insulted my family, I had to defend my honor."
Rakel pulled away from him and shot daggers at him causing the blue khajiit to back into a wall.
"There are bigger things at stake here than your honor! That was not the way to handle things. You do not kill someone just because
they insult your family."
Hasir just lay there on the table, not hearing anything that was going on. All his energies were trying to combat the poison
threatening to overtake his body and mind. The argonian was trapped in his own body but after minutes of silence he heard a voice
in his head. pay no attention to it Hasir, he thought, it's just your inner voice telling you to try to remain positive. There was one
problem though, this voice was high pitched. The argonian's voice was not high pitched.
Hasir used his mind's eye to look around, search for the source for the strange, yet familiar sound. He stood inside his own mind. He
looked around for any sign of that strange vocal tone. Unbeknownst to him, a figure dressed in a half pink, half orange suite stepped
out of the far corner of his mind.
Hasir turned around with a start and seeing him, groaned.
"By the hounds of the hunting grounds, not you!"
Sheogorath grinned madly.
"Why, if it isn't my favorite reptilian mortal."
He snapped his fingers and a floral printed pink sofa materialized out of thin air. He laid down on it with his brown shoed feet on
one end and his grey and white bearded, head on the other. His neck length silver hair was pulled back into a pony tail that hung off
the end of the couch.
Hasir folded his arms and gave the daedric prince a look of deepest disgust.
"Sheogorath, why are you here?" He asked, with a edge of loathing in his voice.
Sheogorath shrugged and spread his arms,
"I heard you wanted a cure for you affliction. Your prayers have been answered."
Hasir stared at him disbelievingly.
"Well I-" He started and paused, "hang on, how did you know I was looking for a cure from this curse?" He paused, "not MY curse
mind you but the curse that Molag Bal placed on me and those like me."
Sheogorath floating in the air upside down, smiling at the argonian.
"We daedra have our ways of knowing," He paused, stroked his beard and continued, "Terrfyg might know also."
Hearing this name, the argonian perked up. He looked up at the daedric lord,
"Terrfyg, how do you know him?" He cocked his head in bewilderment
Sheogorath shrugged, which was a difficult gesture when upside down.
"Terrfyg and I go way back. I made the glenmoril witches make him into what he made the companions."
Hasir looked at him, confused.
"What? You made them do that to Terrfyg? No, no, no," He shook his head, laughing, "this is all wrong, I thought that Hircine
gives the beastblood."
Sheogorath looked at him like he was a uneducated child.
"Are you thick, mortal? 'Course Hircine gives the beast blood, I just took to Terrfyg's plight is all." He shook his head, "Poor dying
mortal," He brightened up and raise a single finger in the air, "I had to freshen up the pot. So I saw the mortal trying to
plead with the witches for his life," He laughed, "Oh, it was...pathetic really." He made a balloon deflation sound with his mouth.
"Why do you you mortals cling to your wretched existence? It ultimately exhausts and bores us immortal folk."
He floated right side up to see Hasir's uninterested 'five mile stare.' complete with a malicious snarl. The mad god put his hands on
his hips "Oh come now. Turn that frown upside down. Look on the bright side of life." Sheogorath craned his head and looked upside
down at Hasir, "Wait...wait...wait... there it is." He said, smiling broadly, touching Hasir on the nose.
Hasir shrugged this off.
"Quit it, you idiot."
Sheogorath looked taken aback. He held his hands palm up in front of himself.
"Alright, alright, don't get your tail in a knot."
As if of it's own accord, his tail slammed down hard on the black floor. Sheogorath laughed and asked Hasir if he knew where he
was. Hasir nodded and said they were in his mind. Sheogorath made a tutting noise while wagging his finger at him and told the lazy
Argonian something that he did not expect to hear.
Sheogorath took a deep breath, not because he had a long story to tell but because he wanted to see Hasir's bewildered face when
he said his next thought.
"You are in my mind," The mad god smiled and sighed, "I know! isn't it glorious and, for an added bonus, I can warp reality to my
liking." He walked near Hasir, put a hand around the scaly shoulder and pointed downward. Hasir followed the long, skinny finger
and saw a small puddle and gasped in shock. He had paws instead of hands, he stared at the same blue eyes he had in reptilian
form, however, these eyes were different somehow more expressive, more alive."
Hasir, or rather his wolf, looked up from the puddle and smelled the air. It smelled of dirt, rock and some sweet smell that was hard
to discern. He saw Sheogorath coming toward him, silver beard and hair bouncing as he walked slowly towards Twilight. He saw this
and dodged to the side causing the mad god to grasp nothing but air and stumble past him and land face first into a mud puddle.
Sheogorath got up and tried to get Twilight's attention by waved his arms over his head and shouting but the wolf did not hear him.
The black and white wolf was instead trying to ascertain where he was. The air did not smell of the same scent that Whiterun
smelled off. He twitched his ears to assist in him getting his bearings; he couldn't use his eyes because they became weaker as his
smell and hearing blossomed in strength. He lowered his head to the grass and sniffed. He finally gathered that he was in Falkreath.
He smelled the air again, this time, a smell of fire, earth and blood permeated the air. Ten feet away, Sheogorath got to his feet,
looked down at his suit and snapped his fingers. The suit magically cleaned itself and he walked over to the black and white wolf.
He patted the wolf on its haunces.
"You must be wondering why I sent us here, aren't you Mr. wolf?"
The wolf yawned, laid down and put his head on his paws, which were crossed in the tundra. He could care less about why he was
sent here. He fixed the mad god, who appeared if front of the wolf, with a stare.
Sheogorath huffed in impatience.
"Well, I don't sully the gods you worship, the nerve of wolves, Hmph!"
Twilight just lay there not moving for the longest time. When he finally did get to his feet, he cocked his head to the side and
whined. The daedra uncrossed his legs, lowered himself to the ground and held out his hand. palm down. a small 'pop' sounded and
a wooden staff with a small pearly white bauble at the top.
Sheogorath had an absent minded look about him and then his mind snapped back to reality.
"You asked me where we are? Well, erm, we are..." He looked around for the wolf, he finally saw that the wolf running north towards
what, he was not sure. Sheogorath tried to holler after the wolf to stop and wait for him to catch up, but the wolf didn't look back.
He shook his head and groaned, shoulders slumping with the action.
"Wolves, they never listen to a word that is spoken to them." He snapped his fingers rather annoyingly and disappeared
Sheogorath reappeared several feet in front of Twilight. The wolf continued running, not seeing the daedric lord in front of him. He
collided with the mad god causing them both to roll a short way through the grass and then stop. Twilight skidded into a trunk of a
tree. Sheogorath just snapped his fingers and disappeared. He then reappeared in front of the wolf, who had toppled over from the
impact.
Sheogorath stared down at the wolf and Twilight saw the annoyance in his yellow eyes.
"Now you be a good wolf and sit, er, lay there will you? Good boy." He patted Twilight's stomach.
The black and white wolf did not like to be patronized and attempted to bite the daedra's hand. The mad god was quick enough to
whip his hand away from the wolf's mouth. He flicked the wolf on the nose with his finger. The wolf twitched his nose, clearly
shocked by the gall that the daedra had to make such a gesture. The mad god went over and offered to assist Twilight in righting
himself. However, when he reached downn, Twilight snarled a warning at Sheogorath.
Sheogorath stopped, backed away slowly and allowed the wolf to right himself, unassisted. The wolf licked his nose as it itched
somewhat. He looked at Sheogorath and gave the wolfish equivalent of a scoff. The wolf again lowered his nose to the ground,
sniffed, found the scent he had before and was off again. Sheogorath just shook his head and disappeared.
Sheogorath appeared a few feet short of the wolf and hid behind a tree so as to keep the wolf within eyeshot but hid well enough for
the wolf to not spot him. What is he up to? Sheogorath thought. The black wolf had definitely caught...something and was busy
toying with it, batting it around like a dog playing with a tennis ball. Sheogorath stepped out from behind the tree and peered
through the branches. There he saw the wolf playing with a doe that he had cornered. Well, play is perhaps not the right word. He
was more tearing it apart, yanking chunks of flesh off of her carcass.
Sheogorath's eyes narrowed as he tried to fight the urge to vomit. He watched with utterly disgusted fascination. A bone snapping
'crack' made the daedric lord turn around and fight the urge, again, to vomit. When he had turned back around to watch Twilight's
progress, the wolf finished ripped all of the flesh off of the doe's carcass. All that remained was its skeletal and muscular systems.
Sheogorath brought his hand up to prevent him for vomiting...again. All daedric lords have strong stomachs, all except Sheogorath.
He saw Twilight laying on the ground, happily gnawing on the lower mandible that he had successfully ripped from the doe's skull.
When he was bored of the jawbone, he flung it aside it and began ripping the muscle tissue free of her ribcage and then he sank his
fangs in the doe's left flank causing fresh blood to spurt forth from the punctured muscle.
Sheogorath sprang from his hiding spot and walked towards the wolf.
"Well, erm, I thought you were, er, running off towards somewhere else."
He crouched down next to Twilight and snapped his fingers; the doe carcass vanished. The wolf looked up at him and growled;
showing his pearly white teeth. The daedric lord wagged his finger in front of the wolf's muzzle.
"Naughty wolf. We have something else to do, you can eat later." He slapped the wolf just below the tail, "Get your mind right and
find a scent that is not food."
Twilight attempted to bite him as he was fed up with the madgod's antics. Sheogorath stepped back in one long stride causing
Twilght's teeth to close on nothing but air. The mad god looked sternly at the wolf and waggled his finger at him again.
"Naughty, naughty wolfie, if you insist on being so tempermental any longer, I will leave you here to figure out the way to Glenmoril
coven on your own." His hands flew to his mouth, "Oopsie, did I let that slip? Silly me."
The wolf looked up at the madgod with apologetic eyes complete with a whine that said I'm sorry for trying to bite you. It did not
matter if Sheogorath let the fact slip because the wolf could not understand what he was saying, or could he? Sheogorath did not
have time to think on this because the wolf heard a sound only he could hear, walked tto some nearby brush and bent low to the
ground, trying to camouflage himself as hard as he could and failed miserably at doing so.
Sheogorath looked around, calling out for the wolf. Seeing no one or nothing nearby, he became more and more irritated.
"Okay, I get it, this is a joke isn't it? Well, do fill Uncle Sheo in on it, won't you?" The daedric lord put him hand on hips and tapped
his foot. "I get it, you don't want me around. Okay, I guess I'll head home then."
The mad god got ready to snap his fingers, saw a black and white patch of fur in the midst of tall green grass, lowered his fingers
and grabbed his staff he had layed against a nearby tree, grabbed it and brought it down on Twilight's head.
'CRACK'
The black and white form rose and glared at Sheogorath with those bright blue eyes and snarled. The mad god looked at the wolf like
he was an misbehaving child confronted by an angry parent.
"Now, wolfie, care to tell me what," he gestured to the bush, "that was about? Perhaps you would like a second meeting of my staff
with your head."
Sheogorath finally saw what the wolf saw. He actually heard it before seeing it. Two nords came into view carrying a stretcher, upon
which was a third nord who lay unconscious; the strong smell of some red, free-flowing liquid stained his nordic carved armor, blood
most likely.
Sheogorath looked closer and could make out that the nord also had a curtain of thick black hair surrounding his relatively young
face. He also had a black beard. The daedric lord squinted and, upon closer inspection of the nord, saw a deep puncture wound just
above the heart that was most likely made by a long sword. He guessed the depth of the wound was done by someone constantly
stabbing the nord, driving the sword deeper and deeper into the wound.
Sheogorath knew where the two nords and the injured man were headed, a cave northwest of his and Twilight's current location.
When the two nords passed, he turned back to the wolf and asked him if he knew where the cave was. Twilight bent his head low to
the grass and sniffed, he could smell some blood that had long been wiped clean from the brush, his eyes brightened.
He barked with joy, tail wagging back and forth in an upright position. He ran full pelt towards the direction the scent was coming
from, following the footprints he saw in the dirt. The blood and the footprints alone told Twilight where they were going. Sheogorath
stood up and followed him, trying to stay out of sight because as Hasir had stated before, he did not trust daedra.
Sheogorath tailed the wolf for a few miles until they both reached the cave, except it was not a hole in the ground like most caves
were, but this cave had an exquisite entrance that had eight stone pillars surrounding a cave set high on a set of ten stone
steps. Twilight continued following his nose up the steps and into the cave. Sheogorath snuck in after him, staying three feet away
from the wolf at all times.
The mad god beheld the cavern. It had three foot long stalactites hanging from the ceiling and had a limestone floor, obviously
withered with age. A few feet ahead on him he saw the black and white wolf sniffing the ground; following the scent of what he
discovered some miles back. he stopped a few inches short of a black stone altar around which were five beautiful women who all
had chestnut colored hair that hung shoulder length around their young altmeric faces.
Twilight smelled the scent of blood emanating from the western passageway of the cave. The two nords stepped out of the shadows
and set the stretcher made from interwoven leather strips overset by two carefully cut sheets of wisp wrappings down beside the
stone altar and lifted the unconscious form of the nord onto the altar.
Twilight padded around the altar, sniffed the entirety of the ground around it and his head snapped up. He could not put his paw on
it, but something was wrong. Sheogorath snapped his fingers and appeared beside the black and white wolf. He lent over and told
the wolf the reason he might be smelling strange scents was because he had shifted two ears into the past.
Twilight looked at him with a perplexed expression etched on his wolfish face.
"Oh come now, wolfie, surely you had guessed by now that finding how your grandfather bestowed 'the gift' to the warriors of
Whiterun required us to travel backward in time."
Replies