A/N: Derp.
. . .
away from the unseen he lies
near necropolises of ships he dwell
from guilt he cries
till he became a wretched shell
Ja'zark always wondered why his mistress adore her traitorous champion who forsook the Lady's teachings and principals. For five bloody years he searched for this Breton high and low but in vain. Luckily, his brief visit to winterhold proved to be more than useful as a couple of Nord fishermen primed him to a place almost identical to her words: pilgrim's trench.
The khajiit's black fur was less than sufficient to warm him from the bitter , chilly winds in this moonless night. However, even the faintest fire couldn't escape from his stern vision ' I hope this is him' he thought whilst drawing his iron sword lest a sleeping bandit or a busy necromancer dwell in the small tent feet in front of him.
"Mephala be praised." the feline whispered when he spotted the man sleeping peacefully. Just before he could act, the man sprang from the makeshift bed with a wicked dagger clutched in his right hand "Who...are...you?"
"R-relax, friend... Ja'zark mean no harm, see?" he slowly dropped his sword under the Breton's threat to slit his throat.
"What brings you here? There is nothing to rob if that is your aim." Ja'zark studied the man's complexion; it spoke of pain... the worst type of pain... the silent, unshared one which would be eventually be the end of one's life. "Lady Mephala demands you to serve her again like always."
"To blazes with Mephala! I spent my WHOLE life as a slave to her wills and deeds...i spread chaos without spilling a drop of blood for her name and what do I get? NOTHING! The only person I...cared for is dead, DEAD! By my very corrupt hands. Go and tell your blasted mistress to find another hound!" the khajiit went amok after these words, Whisper couldn't blame him though as he would do the same five years ago. All it took was a swift parry from the feline's claw followed by a fatal jab to the neck to unleash a stream of blood. Whisper glanced at the pool of blood dipping his bare feet... he couldn't see his former and joyful self anymore.
"See the blight you created Mephala?! SEE?!"
"oh yes , indeed." a spectre representing an ill-dressed woman replied suddenly "you ought to be proud of yourself, Mortal... it is my first time to ascended to this...plane of yours."
"So this is all just one twisted game for you, isn't it? You could have saved Echo! You could have saved me! But nooooo, we are but mere puppets and pawns for your amusement?!"
" Oh, come on now, whisper, don't be ungrateful...after all it is I who whispered the door's password to those pathetic imperials...it is I who controlled minds to rescue you...Now be a dear and pledge your loyalty one more time"
Whisper stared in her eyes with no fear in his "I. Will. Not. be. Your. Slave."
"Ahh you and your short sighting... you were, are and will always be my slave. There is no escape from this fate...you will serve me till your flesh rots and your bones gnaw. Now heed and obey my words or you will face the wrath of Daedra!"
just then, Whisper did the unthinkable; with a roar of hatred, he actually stabbed his former mistress only to be met by a wicked chuckle "foolish mortal! I will...ha ha ha!"
Whisper backed away witnessing the laughing daedra "you are the incarnation of deceit my dear... I would have never thought of this moment... tell you what, how about a deal of sort? You would spread more words and I will resurrect Echo?"
"Y-you would do that? What proves your honesty?"
"Why not? I am a daedra after all. A daedra's promise is more than enough." the daedric prince simply vanished leaving Whisper in an utter dilemma.
. . .
sooo the lady of whispers seems to have plans for this wreck of a man... i first ranting i get in a review would be the first to write in the next instalment of the series XD
And remember kids... dont do drugs.. DO SKOOMA WEEEEEEEE HERP DERP