*The faint whisperings became, suddenly, a source of irritation as he became conscious of them. They stirred agitatedly, rustled through his mind, completely unintelligible and confusing, echoing here, alighting over there and then fading into nothing, only to repeat the cycle once more. As soon as he began to pay true attention, warily and with a little annoyance, the whisperings ceased quite suddenly, and only silence remained.
The elf-man then opened his eyes, blinking them blearily as he did so. He could feel tiny, cold beads of sweat upon his furrowed brow, as he slowly sat up. His tawny netted hammock creaked and rocked slightly, to and fro, from his movements as he gazed about, his heart thumping jerkily beneath his chest.
The dank and dim prison hold was only slightly lit, making it, perhaps, only a mere shade lighter than was usual. The boxy iron and glass paned lantern that lit the hold, sat tall upon an empty wooden barrel at the foot of his hammock. Two, spare stubs of waxy yellow candles laid beside the lantern upon the barrel, where they would wait to be used, sparingly, later on into the day.
The elf-man rubbed his tired eyes with two fingers, holding back a groan from the dull aching in his muscles. As he pressed his fingers against his eyes, he felt the cold sweat upon his bare chest as well, lining down the whole length of his stomach. The elf-man lowered his hand, blinking his eyes into focus with a slight frown wrinkling his face.
"Looks as though you had the same sleep as you did yesterday, Seija-Dreamer," said a familiar, raggedly deep voice.
The elf-man, Seija was his given name, slowly turned his head and looked over his right shoulder. Directly across from him was his companion Jiub, who sat cross-legged upon his own netted hammock hanging from the opposite wall. The elf-man's face pinched into a questioning frown, "Yes," he grumbled, his own deep voice broken from only just awakening. "I feel as though I have been up all the night, listening to someone."
Jiub's brows knitted together ponderously and he folded his arms over his chest. "Did you understand anything?" he asked.
Seija shook his head, "No. It was only the... the strange whispers." The elf-man took a short breath, then sighed through his nose, willing away his grogginess coolly. He could feel his heart's beat was now gradually slowing and calming beneath his chest, but the aches straining the muscles of his whole body remained, as though he had exerted himself all through the night.
Jiub nodded his shaven head lightly. "You must have these dreams interpreted when we reach Morrowind, Seija, or maybe a good Temple priest could heal you of them."
Seija frowned and shook his head. "No, I would rather not tell anyone else of these dreams, Jiub."
Jiub pursed his lips at the elf-man, "I suppose that is a good idea." Jiub suddenly chuckled softly; the laughs came out of him as a jagged rumbling. "The pious priests might think you have soul sickness or some such stupid thing."
The elf-man nodded, "Yes," he said simply, thinking that was an all-too-possible likelihood. He then carefully swung his legs to hang over the netting of his hammock, and then slowly slid down to the ship flooring. Seija pursed his lips, refusing to groan or even grimace at the stiffness of his hurting body. He strode across the rough, wooden floor towards an opened barrel, which contained a large amount of fresh water that had not been drawn from the salty waters of the Inner Sea.
As he reached the barrel, which was used by prisoners primarily for drinking and washing, he picked up a wooden bucket from off the floor and dipped it into the barrel. As he mildly watched the water swirl and churn as it filled the submerged bucket, Jiub said: "What is the first thing you'll do when we get to Morrowind, Seija-Dreamer?"
Seija lifted a brow thoughtfully, and then hoisted out the filled water-bucket. "I will have a decent bath somewhere."
Jiub chuckled heartily at that, "That is a fine idea!" he said and his chuckle ringed out again.
Seija smiled lightly and after placing the bucket down upon the ship floor, he stiffly sat down beside it and began to wash his body. "What will you do, Jiub?" he asked, smoothing the cooled water over his brow and face.
Jiub's scarred face pulled into a light, ponderous look. After a short moment, he said: "I think I'll go to a tavern or an inn, if I have any coins on me, and I'll buy a good, honest meal." Jiub grinned widely at the thought and nodded his head to himself. "And I'll wash it all down with a stout tankard of beer."
Seija nodded, smiling openly, as water dripped into his lips and down his jaw and chin. He began to carefully smear handfuls of the chilly water over his chest and shoulders, gooseflesh swiftly rising upon his skin as he did so. "After my bath," he mumbled, "I would join you in that."
Jiub laughed heartily, then pointed a slender finger in Seija's direction. "That's what we'll do then, Seija-Dreamer!" he said, "You and I will get stinking, blessedly drunk together when we reach Morrowind!" he laughed again, his face looking utterly light-hearted with the thought of such wondrous normality.
Seija grinned at his dear companion and nodded. He let out a small, quiet chuckle, "Gods help the first tavern we find."
Jiub laughed along with Seija, as the elf-man lifted up the water-bucket with two hands and began to pour water out, onto his head.
*Seija frowned and rubbed at his eyes with his fingers, as a dull headache pulsed behind them. After a moment, he lowered his hand and shook his head, willing himself to concentrate on his supper instead. It was a humble meal; the clay bowl within his hand was filled with a hefty lump of warm saltrice porridge. A thick slice of brown wickwheat bread was also placed within the bowl, plain and unbuttered. The elf-man took up his wooden spoon, and carefully scooped up a bit of the porridge, though he did not feel hungry at all.
"The crew sees a storm heading towards us. I was told it would hit the ship by tonight," Jiub said over a dry mouthful of bread.
Seija nodded, chewing the porridge in his mouth slowly and focusing upon the taste and texture of it, in an attempt to forget the pain drumming in his head. "I overheard," he said, "when the guard told you. We will have to put out the lantern when it finds us."
Jiub nodded as he now began to dip his bread in his porridge. "That is, if it finds us." He lifted his soppy bread to his mouth and bit into it. "You won't get seasick will you, Seija-Dreamer?" he asked, mouth full.
Seija swallowed, "No," he said simply, spooning out more porridge. "Will you?"
Jiub laughed, showing the food in his mouth for an instant, and shook his head. He swallowed and stuck his spoon back into his bowl, "No," he said, "I do not remember ever being seasick in my life." He lifted his spoon to his mouth.
Seija nodded once, and then stopped, as a rushing throb of pain swelled in his head. He knitted his brows against it, instinctually thinking that the headache was becoming worse every moment. He tossed the thought away though, and placed a mouthful of porridge in his mouth. "Nor can I." he said quietly.
Jiub nodded with his cheeks full. "My father was a fisherman you know, Seija," he said, his voice muffled by food. "I grew up playing on the deck of his little skiff." He swallowed and then smiled widely at the remembrance.
Seija gave a weak smile to his companion as he chewed, then swallowed. "Where did you live then, Jiub?" he asked.
Jiub grinned at the question, "We had a small home near Anvil." He took up his bread and bit into it hungrily, then scooped up a bit of porridge and quickly bit into that as well. "I loved it there as a boy," he mouthed and nodded to himself as he chewed.
Seija gazed down at his bowl full of saltrice porridge, and pushed it around now with his spoon. The elf-man sighed quietly as the blood in his head surged painfully and the ache behind his eyes thrummed. Seija squinted slightly, as the glare of the lantern light seemed to blare in his eyes, and held up his clay bowl, "Will you eat the rest of this, Jiub?" he mumbled.
Jiub lifted a brow at Seija, questioningly. "You're full already? You only had a few bites..."
Seija shrugged lightly, then slid down from his hammock, landing on the wooden floor with a soft thud. He strode across the rough planks to stand below Jiub's hammock. When Jiub leaned over and held out his own clay bowl with two hands, Seija scraped his portion of porridge into Jiub's bowl, and stuck in his slice of wickwheat bread as well. After that he turned and left the empty bowl to rest on the floor near the barrel which the lantern stood on.
"Are you feeling well, Seija?" Jiub asked, concern noting his coarse voice, as he watched the elf-man stride back to his hammock and quickly hop up into it.
Seija nodded absently and shut his eyes tight to block out the light as he laid down on his back within his hammock. Chill sweat began to gleam upon his forehead and chest now. "I am fine;" he said quietly, "I only need to rest a little." But the pain of his head grew even more, making Seija want to lurch out of bed to vomit out the small amount of food in his stomach. The elf-man, though, merely swallowed and rolled over onto his side. He grumpily threw his coarse, grey blanket over his body and covered his face as well, to further shut out the lantern light. With the beating pain pulsing in his head, there then came a surging, ringing blackness. As the deep blackness blotted out everything and the ringing became unnaturally shrill, Seija was abruptly struck asleep.
*"Mortal, I apologize for manipulating your body in such a manner," said a rich, deep voice of a grand lady. "The time is come that I shall give you council, now."
The elf-man, Seija, glanced about wildly, suspiciously searching for the source of the voice, as a hot gust of wind streamed through his hair. Seija lifted his hand up to shield his eyes from the gritty, ash-ridden wind as he turned round, facing into it head-on. The voice's bearer was nowhere to be seen behind him, nor as he turned about in a small circle, did he behold anything or any being hiding behind the large black boulders and tall rocky spires jutting out from the warm, steaming ground.
The elf-man turned his back to the wind, lowering his hand as he did so, and gazed up at the smoky red sky. "Who speaks?" he shouted, his eyes wandering jerkily over the smoggy, scarlet redness above.
"Search your heart, dear mortal," said the beautiful woman-voice, in a slightly soothing tone, "For the ancient heart beating beneath your breast well remembers what your mind has forgotten."
The elf-man frowned at the voice's cryptic reply, his eyes still flicking here and there upon the desolate sky, searching vainly. His heart thudded nervously, though he utterly ignored it for foolery impatiently. The wind howled as it forcefully ushered past, scattering the ash upon the ground and making the elf-man squint slightly as it kicked up reddish skirls of dust. After a long, long quiet moment of Seija waiting for the voice to speak once more, he finally lowered his eyes defeatedly. He had thought the voice would digress, and perhaps speak again if he remained silent for long enough. But now, he realized that the powerful voice would do no such thing until he did as it bid and: 'Search his heart...'
Seija frowned and, after a deep sigh, fixedly shut his eyes. The elf-man collected himself, quietly trying to empty his mind of thoughts, though he wondered vaguely how one went about searching his heart. For a time he simply breathed and felt, only the tepid wind coursing against his tall naked body. He felt the grainy bits of volcanic ash, carried by the wind, patter against his naked flesh. All the while, his long hair flicked about his face and shoulders as it played in the strong, smoke and ash-choked wind.
Soon, though, his mind gradually began to stray ever farther. It slowly drew away from things corporeal. His mind's eye seemed to float in nothingness, and then began to eddy onwards, through the slippery, black murk of time within himself, sifting through flickering memories of an era, of a life gone, and long, long forgotten. Seija's eyes finally snapped open widely as his old heart snatched at a single past memory. He was startled as he thought that the voice had spoken truthfully, his heart had indeed remembered something very old and cherished.
Seija gazed up at the blood-red sky, his brows pinched into a look of remorse. The elf-man then bent down to one knee and lowered his head deeply, chiding himself silently for acting so foolishly before. "Forgive me, Mother of the Rose, Great Queen of the Night Sky!' he exclaimed, his deep voice sounding tremulously humbled.
"There is no transgression to forgive of you, yet. Rise, faithful servant," said the deep, flutish and impressive voice of the goddess Azura herself.
Seija rose up slowly and kept his head bowed respectfully. The elf-man waited quietly, before speaking. The wind pitched past him strongly, making him sway in its grasp for a moment. After the wind subsided down to a dull breeze, Azura's voice echoed out across the red land once more.
"Over the years you slumbered dormant, apart from the mundane plane of Nirn, many of the False have fallen." Said the Deadric Prince, "Yet where they have fallen, you yourself shall rise once more. You have been chosen."
Seija, head still inclined, lifted a brow in confusion at the words the goddess spoke. Then her voice drew out again, overpowering his chain of thought. "The web of your fate is swiftly spun, my servant," said Azura, "Upon your arrival to the lands of the Changed Ones, each strand of your future shall become apparent. You must follow the set path as it is given."
The goddess' voice suddenly softened, her deep, rich inflection becoming mild and lightened as she said: "Fear not, for I am watchful. I will always be with you."
As her voice echoed out, the red land was gracefully wiped away in the blink of an eye. Seija's mouth hung open as he found himself suddenly standing upon a shoreline in the dark of night, while the crisp waves of a vast sea lapped playfully around his ankles. The pale sand beneath the surging, clear waters was soft, and his feet gently sank into it.
The sky before him, above the sea, was a deep indigo-blue, dappled plentifully with pale stars that softly winked. Two large moons hung luminously, heavy and full along with the stars, casting down pearly light that danced upon the seawaters. Seija closed his mouth, frowning wonderingly as Azura's words echoed in his head, and turned round and walked out of the shallow seawater. As he trudged up upon the dry, silvery beach-sand, thunder rolled deeply overhead.
Seija stopped upon the moon-bright sands and gazed upwards at the rumbling, dark sky. The elf-man sniffed the air tentatively, smelling a coolness, a certain tell-tale moisture that was not borne of the sea near him. "Rain," he whispered to himself and waited for a moment, quietly gazing at the sky as thunder rumbled across it once again.
Suddenly, from no cloud whatsoever, rain began to fall, pattering softly. Seija blinked at the sky as the silver rain fell, spotting cool water on his face and shoulders. The elf-man lowered his gaze and began to walk further up the sands. As he did, the rain began to steadily increase, until it poured down upon the beach in laden, grey sheets.
He had only walked perhaps four steps, and the din of loud rainfall now filled his ears, clamouring within the air with a tuneful roar. The elf-man's hair was quickly drenched, hanging in long wet slops upon his shoulders, as rivulets of clear, cold rain ran down the length of his muscled, naked body.
Seija squinted through the rain, seeing that the beach led to no-place. His way was utterly barred, all round, by jagged black sea-stone. The elf-man licked his rain-wet lips and sat down upon the pale, wet sand. He rested his elbows upon his knees and hung his head slightly as the water dripped from his hair and nose. Seija closed his eyes, feeling a sudden grogginess and quickly shivered himself to sleep.