A/n: I just want to say I am sorry for messing (and missing) the update rate lately. I have my own things (+ being a bit lazy) but I really find no real excuse for being a lazy ass. I apologize again especially for my amazing Patrons and all my readers in general, I’ll smack that bitch ass of mine, go wash my soul in that rain and write this chapter even if it is the last thing I do.
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There are limits for what can understand, perceive, imagine and endure. The mind was always and will ever be this delicate thing in both structure and process, it can be affected by many factors but the most impactful one is the mental shock.
Loss of loved ones is shocking but the mind finds ways to protect itself from such shocks by explaining it through the knowledge available. For example, losing an old relative whose age has reached the upper limit of the human function is more understandable and acceptable than losing a healthy young relative. It, of course, doesn’t mean people will accept both accidents at the same level of impact, everyone reacts according to how their minds translate this shock.
But what if the translation of the shock was lacking? What if our minds can’t simply make heads and tails of what we just experienced?
Things like that translate into abnormal behaviors or emotions. It mostly depends on the mental fortitude of the person, their behavior, the environment they grew up in and how impactful was the trauma.
***
As a Redguard Warrior, Isha took pride in her set of skills along with her racial advantage. A Redguard barely runs out of stamina and is very durable with the fight dragging on. However, such a thing was only making her feel miserable today.
"Again!"
"You should have some rest."
"AGAIN!"
In order to stick her spear at the hearts of those who caused her and her family to suffer, she started grinding her power like crazy. Her team was made of powerful elites and a group training session was one of the fun routines they enjoyed ever since the days of Morrowind.
Still, Isha decided to turn those training sessions into a hell-like training.
"Are you done yet?" Jon called.
"Nope, she’s still going." Nefertiti replied.
Isha was in the middle of a formation made by Mirren, Miranda, Jax, Wrath, Greed, Lust, Pride, Nefertiti, and Jon. They were playing their twisted version of ’capture the flag’. One flag, two teams. The offense team is made of one person and that is Isha who is trying to force her way through the defending team and capture the flag which Jon is taking a nap with. And if that is not twisted enough, then no one knows what else is.
Isha, the star of the show slipped away from the shadow traps prepared by Nefertiti and the bone projectiles shot by Wrath. She evaded and arrow from Miranda and lost her spear to Greed.
Jon wasn’t too far just down that cliff, all she needs to do is to jump over and surprise him.
As soon as she slid away from Mirren, she launched herself down the cliff in a leap of faith style seeing Jon resting down there.
"Got you."
"Yaaawn!"
Jon was resting on some cushions with some liquor around him and didn’t even bother to move. Isha approached closer and closer trying to land on him but as she was this close, her hopes alongside her body all crashed into a wall.
A small rock around moved on its own and it turned out to be Jax who was disguised by Lust. He intercepted Isha by ramming her midair to the wall of the cliff.
As Jon told him not to go easy, Jax held Isha and tossed her all the way back on the cliff where Wrath was waiting for her with a heavy fist.
Isha got tossed like a ragdoll then was thrown away.
Mirren and Miranda gritted their teeth seeing how extreme Jon was.
"Given up yet?" Mirren called.
"... Shut... up!" Isha staggered up looking for another round but her feet betrayed her and she fell on her butt.
"That’s enough for today, Zara will take care of you."
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtFrom the spectators’ area, the only spectator was Zara who also acted as both the medic and the referee. She went to check on at the work down Isha and deemed her not able to continue playing.
Jon teleported right between Mirren and Miranda after that.
"So, here she does again. It has been a week since this started." Jon said with a tired face.
"If you are so worried about her, don’t play so heavy-handed." Mirren refuted.
"And endure her nagging for a full day afterwards? Nope."
"She is punishing herself." Miranda cut it.
The two boys sighed and put their argument aside. It was true, Isha found a way to deal with her shock by inflicting pain. She would go and ask for it every day until someone puts her down. She was simply keeping herself from thinking.
A week ago before this all begins, the group discovered the involvement of a certain Daedric Prince that no one wanted to deal with, Clavicus Vile, Prince of Deals.
Vile is a Daedric Lord notorious for his widespread meddling in mortal affairs and in the past has worked through mortal representatives to gain what he desires. It is possible, though by no means certain, that Clavicus Vile assisted Jagar Tharn in his temporary procurement of the Imperial throne. Clavicus Vile purportedly granted the Cyrodiil Vampyrum Order the ability to blend into mortal society undetected. He is basically Rumpelstiltskin but more of a dog person and his deals mostly end up with regret after turning on the other part.
A famous story about the Vile’s deals is the story of a noblewoman called Avalea and the [Masque of Clavicus Vile]. As a young girl, Avalea was grossly disfigured by a spiteful servant. Avalea made a dark deal with Clavicus Vile and received the Masque in return. Though the Masque did not change her looks, she suddenly had the respect and admiration of everyone. A year and a day after her marriage to a well-connected baron, Clavicus Vile reclaimed the Masque. Although pregnant with his child, Avalea was banished from the Baron’s household. Twenty-one years and one day later, Avalea’s daughter claimed her vengeance by slaying the Baron.
Anyway, after discovering the involvement of Clavicus Vile, Jon and the rest went through a brainstorming session away from Isha to figure out how things went down.
Zain, Clavicus Vile, the Worm Cult, the Bloodworm Skull, Sithis, and the Labourers. Not all those words fit together but there was indeed a pattern.
Zain was cursed by Sithis, he looked for a cure and failed, he turned for Clavicus Vile wishing to get rid of the curse but had to Labour and he faked his own death somehow.
But there was also the Worm Cult, the reason why Zain attached Isha with the intention to kill, and the importance of Isha and the Bitter Mercy spear. These were unexplainable reasons that no matter how they looked into them, they weren’t easy to explain.
Jon couldn’t even reach priestess Aranea to have a talk with Azura. Even Shadow and Sheogorath were still talking.
In this lack of answers, the group decided to chase after Zain and headed west. Zara joined them but they all ended up at the western borders of Northern Elsweyr. If they pass this point, they will enter Reaper’s Marsh which is a shared territory between Elsweyr, home of the Khajiit, and Valenwood, home of the Bosmer, the Wood Elves.
The only problem with Reaper’s March is the existence of the Thalmor in this area. The Thalmor has a large stronghold in the area and all the roads are being watched.
That’s why the group needed the help of an expert. A smuggler or a guide would be great so Mirren and Miranda had to call for an old acquaintance of theirs. That was a Bosmer known as Ilverios Ulriric.
"We can’t usually go into the heavily guarded territories like Reaper’s March so we tend to hire smuggler guild we are close to, Ilverios is an old friend that can be trusted." Mirren said.
[A/n: Ilverios Ulriric is a character sponsored by @tunder999]
"Great, but why is the situation in Valenwood this intense?" Jon asked.
"The more you go west the more radical the Thalmor get. The situation in Elsweyr is not bad as the Khajiit are too valuable to piss off and there is no need to provoke them. The situation is different with the Bosmer who see themselves as Elves with equal rights with the Altmer which is basically heresy to the Thalmor."
"Those Thalmor take things too far, man. I mean... have you heard about this theory that says those who live in a country with a tropical climate, fair weather, beautiful girls and palm trees are way less likely to think of leaving their land and invade the world unlike those who live in a harsh climate?"
"That’s true?"
"It should be. We Nords live in the worst climate known in Tamriel, we raid sometimes like the Orcs when we are short on food but we do it. What reason does the Thalmor have to go out and invade?"
"... Cultural reasons." Mirren thought for a while before answering.
"Now that’s messed up. If you are going to invade for something other than resources or to exact justice, then why bother everyone else?" Jon said.
"Well... this started with Ancestor Queen Ayrenn. She established the Dominion to protect Alinor..."
"And gain the Ruby Throne (Imperial Throne)."
"Yes, but that war a thousand years ago had its own reasons."
"I know, right. I remember Queen Ayrenn’s reason was to never allow any human to sit on the Ruby Throne saying humans are too young and foolish to rule the world and the wiser races need to be in control."
"That is still the reason why they are aiming for the Empire other than Cyrodiil was once a land of elves."
"Whatever, man. Still, thirty years after she said so, big bad Tiber Septim walked in the house with the Numidium chilling."
"Don’t say that in front of another Altmer. They’ll hate you on the spot."
The two had enough with their cross-cultural political talk then started to fool around their camp as the girls were washing up nearby.
Jon faced the west thinking of what to expect when he enters Valenwood but all the fun he had in mind was erased once he started thinking of what to do when they catch up to Zain.
Playing Chase Capture Kill won’t work this time. Zain is Isha’s brother, Zahra’s husband and a man they heard a lot of stories about before the situation in Hammerfell happens.
The Labour was to follow Isha but her brother being Clavicus Vile’s Labourer meant that peaceful solutions are out of stock. There is a hefty price to pay for failing the Labours and that is being claimed by the Daedric Prince.
Isha will either be a liability or an asset but that depends on her mentality. Jon hoped to never make her choose but the cruel reality says that she is a key to the Last Labour which is basically what is going on.
Jon sighed a big time and came to a half-hearted conclusion. If Clavicus Vile, Mannimarco and Zain are up to something, it is best to figure it out fast and investigate from every corner. Isha won’t handle the shock of putting down her brother by her hands.
"He’s here." Mirren spoke.
"Who?"
"Ilverios... the guide."
"Oh, yes! The guide."
The two boys headed to the direction where they felt a presence and observed the road until one rider showed up.
Jon narrowed his eyes and stared closely not at the man but rather on what he was riding.
"Blasphemy! I am so... jealous!"
The words slipped out from Jon’s mind to his mouth. He was looking at Ilverios’ mount with a lot of shock.
Ilverios approached Jon and Mirren then stopped his mount.
"Mirren, you look pretty as always, my friend." The Wood Elf spoke Mirren.
"Ilverios, long time no see. To you as well, Chaz." Mirren replied to the Wood Elf and his mount.
"Chaz bids you well, Mirren." The mount Ilverios riding replied.
This mount was a Khajiit Senche Cat. A tiger-like breed of Khajiit that is rare to see around.
"Ilverios, thanks for agreeing to meet. This is my friend whom I mentioned. Krilon, this is Ilverios and his partner Chaz." Mirren took care of the introductions.
"Greetings. We are actually brothers rather than partners." Ilverios spoke to Jon.
"Yes, hello... how brothers may I ask?" Jon said.
"Adoptive siblings. I was adopted by the family of Chaz."
"Oh, I see!"
Jon may have been jealous of a non-Khajiit riding a Senche but it was understandable now.
Senche cats are a rare breed not because of anything genetic but rather because of the birth control process in the Khajiit society. It is much easier for a Khajiit to walk on two legs rather than four. This way they don’t get mistaken for beasts by outsiders and grow up to find a good career in farming, martial arts of trading.
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmThis doesn’t mean that quadrupedal Khajiit can’t do any of that but rather because of how easy it is to do things when you walk on two.
This is the reason why the Senche and Senche-Raht are rare to see especially during the Fourth Era. Those two kinds of breeds won’t even agree to carry anyone on their backs other than someone they are really close to and that’s what made Jon wonder.
"Anyway, my friends. I was told you wanted a way through Reaper’s March, am I right?" Ilverios asked.
"That’s right, we need a way in free from all Thalmor patrols." Mirren confirmed.
"And your destination is?"
"West."
"I mean the exact place you are going to?"
Mirren looked at Jon urging him to speak.
"Just west, we don’t know the location but we need to follow a certain compass that points the way. It may be pointing all the way to Malabal Tor or to Summerset." Jon said.
"Damn..." Ilverios stared at Jon for a while before shaking his shoulders, "I’m sorry but my territory is Reaper’s March. Even if you are willing to pay, I can’t guide you further as I don’t know the roads outside."
"Fine, I will take your offer. Here’s an advance payment." Jon tossed a heavy purse of gemstones to Ilverios.
"Good gems! Unidentifiable and all... seems like we are dealing with another fugitive." Ilverios said and looked at Mirren.
"Fugitive!" Jon raised his brows and looked at Mirren, "You never told. I thought you are wanted for assassination."
"HA! That’s merely the start of it." Ilverios said revealing Mirren’s secret.
"Thanks, thanks... unlike you, Mr. Smuggler and Mr. International Serial Killers, an assassin work is ruined if he gets too famous."
"International Serial Killers? What is that?" Ilverios asked.
"I kill breakfast cereal every morning... everywhere... that’s how I become international."
"I believe we will get along just fine then. Looking forward to a peaceful trip until Malabal Tor and back then."
"Cheers!"
"Cheers!"
Little did they know...
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