You know, I'm really starting to love absurdism. If I ever get published, this sort of stuff could be argued to have any number of English teachers arguing what I'm trying to say when in reality I'm doing this on purpose to mess with y'all half the time.


Chapter 52: The Sun Scroll.


The scroll refused to leave Mohamara's side. Every time it got more than two feet away, it would halt as if affixed by a chain. Even Serana, the strongest person around by dint of vampiric power, could only cause Mohamara to be dragged along after the scroll in her attempts to take it back. The problem only got worse when Orchendor, curious as to what had happened, come out onto the deck as well. Mohamara, dragged by the scroll, promptly sailed through the air and knocked the emaciated Khajiit out as well.

This left Serana with two unconscious Khajiit bound to an Elder Scroll, and two incredibly upset Khajiit kittens. Cat lovers from among the novices rushed out to calm the bawling Jone and Jode—both too young to understand that 'Momamama' wasn't seriously hurt, just knocked out. Naturally, a crowd of people did not in any way help two panicking kittens calm down.

But J'zargo finally came up from below-decks, and he put an end to the nonsense. He took the scroll and floating blessed one(s) in one hand, and the kittens in the other. His hands were huge, they could potentially have fit all four Khajiit.

When the Third Servitor returned to the deck after putting the cats away, he found the novices hesitantly approaching Serana and the Friends to ask questions. But once J'zargo returned, the Nord vampire broke off the conversation to talk to him.

"Hey, thanks for not like… assuming the worst. It wasn't a good look, and could have easily gone messy."

J'zargo, easily a ton heavier than the vampire could lift, and two feet taller, waved her off flippantly. "J'zargo assumed nothing. Little vampiress posed no threat to the blessed one—if she did, then the First and Second of the blessed one's Servitors would have told J'zargo." He leaned his head back with a smug look. "And little vampire would be extremely dead."

"Hoo, confident aren't we?" Serana placed one hand on her hip and gestured with the other. "And who are the first and second servitors, then? Them?" She pointed at the Friends.

J'zargo shook his head. "The First Servitor resembles a scuttling crab and manages the blessed one's affairs. The Second resembles a snake and guards the blessed one's person. J'zargo is the Third, and proclaims the glory of the blessed one." The cathay-raht sized Aedric creature looked up to see Qorach slither his way down the aft mast and into the cabin. "Destroying you is not this one's duty, and would shine none of the blessed one's glory on the world."

She squinted up at the smug yet serene Aedric creature. "Well… glad that 'destroying me' isn't on your itinerary, at least."

J'zargo nodded. "Now, destroying the vampiress' papa, that would be something J'zargo could do no problems."

Suddenly the little Nord vampire was all knives and coiled springs. "What did you say?"

The Aedric creature waved her off. "Not right now of course, he has not rejected the blessed one's kindness. But he will, J'zargo is sure of it."

Serana's hand drifted to the elven dagger she kept hidden under her cuirass and curled one lip over her fangs. "And what 'kindness' would your blessed one offer that he'd reject?"

Totally unafraid, J'zargo met her angry eyes. "The chance to give up all the power he's built up, be absolved of all the crimes he has committed, and to start over. To be reborn as a mortal man, free of Molag Bal's shackle, and to be free of the all-consuming hunger that drives him."

The vampire's eyes expressed confusion more than anger after hearing that. "It can't be that easy," she said at last. "Or someone would have figured out how to do that earlier."

"The blessed one's power over life is shared by one other force in all the Aurbis. Meridia, the Daedra of the Day." Somehow, the creature shaped like a Khajiit became even more smug. "Does Meridia strike the Nord like someone who would experiment and find the solution to vampire problem when exploding them works just as well?"

Serana seemed at a loss for a snarky reply. So, she settled for a confused question. "How do you even know these things?"

"J'zargo is outside of time. He sees the beginning and the end of his story, and all the chapters in between. It is how he knows how irresistible to mortals he is," the Aedric creature paused to look over his shoulder and wink at a group of novices on the poop deck that had ogled him for a few minutes, "and how he knows many more things. There are no surprises for J'zargo, but mortals can make new surprises perhaps.''

The vampire screwed her face up to glare at J'zargo. "So my father… he could still choose to change?"

J'zargo shook his head. "Harkon is not a mortal, he doesn't get to control his own story anymore. J'zargo didn't call it Molag Bal's shackle for nothing, the Nord understands?" The cat-like creature crossed his arms and his smug expression diminished just a bit. "But this one doesn't know the Nord's story all that well—after this, we go different paths for a little bit. Perhaps she will find the right words to say to Harkon, that he will change his ways. J'zargo hopes so."

"So what—I have the power to change my story? Even though I'm immortal?"

"Because you—unlike Harkon, unlike the Nord's mother, and even unlike others in her position such as Vivec—you remember what it was like to be mortal. You have not allowed Molag Bal to make you into something wicked."

The vampire put her chin into the crook between her thumb and pointer finger. "So… if I can help my father remember what it was like to be mortal, he can choose for himself again, and that would give him a higher chance of accepting your blessed one's workaround cure. Yeah, I can see how the odds are stacked against me there."

J'zargo shrugged. "This one wishes the Nord good luck. And advises her to accept the help of Orthorn when offered—he is skilled at doing impossible things."


While they were unconscious, the two halves of Mohamara unconsciously moved toward the scroll. Meridia's programming to cling tight to objects near them while sleeping served a useful purpose-it drove them to grasp at each other and the Elder Scroll between them.

The Scroll sparked with white-gold lightning, which branched out to the two halves of the same dumbass, and imparted a Vision.

They dreamed of darkness. Then suddenly, a shaft of light. There, a scruffy looking Colovian man dressed as a Twenty-First Era hobo sat, and looked up at both of them at the same time, even though they were on opposite sides of each other.

"Imagine the dark, and the light that contrasts it," said the Imperial, breathless and long-winded at the same time. "In the dark lurks the fear-inspiring monsters and in the light is safety. But the reverse is also true, for the light takes away the power to know a monster from a man."

The light faded and lit itself again immediately. The same man sat on a stool, in a striped shirt, beret, scarf, sunglasses, and smoking a cigarette from an excessively long holder. "The key difference between a monster and a man," said the Colovian in a false High Rock accent, "is hope. Men may hope and may grow their ideas to share with others. But monsters lose their hope and thus lose themselves."

Once more the light flickered, and when the Nord appeared once more he wore glasses, a turtleneck sweater, and a sports jacket, and sat in an armchair. "The, uh-the main, er, um, problem here is, you see," the man had suddenly become evasive and puttered about aimlessly as he spoke. "That monsters can become men again. Um, y-your see, er, despair can make monsters of men, and um, hope make men of monsters. But uh, is it, hmm, is it wrong to be a monster? Is-excuse me, it right to be a man?"

The light flickered again, and the Colovian sat on a simple wooden chair in a white cassock, with a strange white cap on his head. He spoke with a Bruma accent when he spoke next, "monsters may love, men may hate, beauty flows from both of them. The distinction, men and monsters, light and darkness, paradise and damnation, Aedra and Daedra, mortal and immortal, are false. It is like unto considering ones left and right hands separate things when the reality is that they are instruments of the whole."

The light flickered, and when it returned, all previous incarnations of the man stood in differently colored shafts of light, doing an interpretive dance around the all-white Colovian who suddenly sported sunglasses and whose chair spun slowly in place. A bizarre song played for a little over a minute, then the light flickered again.

There sat the man, still as scruffy as ever, in an all-black suit and tie, his face inscrutable from a tipped down stupid-as-all-fuck looking hat. "The Wheel is the king of falsehoods, my dude. It pretends to be, like, the Whole, but is only the imaginings of what the Whole could be, bro." The Imperial tilted his head up and revealed the lower half of his face to the light. "One way to see the Whole, heh, is to look at it from outside. Nice. But another is to, you know, find the primarch axis, the hub of the hub. The point around which the Wheel turns-so its falsehood may be seen clearly, dude."

Rapidly, the lights began to flicker and the versions of the same man changed with them. "The hub of the hub is broken, unfinished, out of place." "It lies discarded, and the world is wounded to serve its function." "It, um, desperately wants to, er, you see, be." "But she who should have finished it became a monster." "Dude, like, despair has made a ruin of the plan."

The profound moment was ruined by a pronounced slurping noise, followed by a gargling sort of sound. Mohamara, Orchendor, and the fashion-changing Colovian looked over to see Sheogorath seated on a movie-theatre chair. In one hand, he held a huge bucket of cheese popcorn, and in the other, he had a fountain drink. It was his drawing on the dregs of the drink that caused the noise. The Mad God grinned at the people who took offense to his presence, unhinged his jaw, and scooped some popcorn into it.

"It just love Aedric movies," he said once he'd swallowed the popcorn whole without chewing. "Such high art!"

"Hold on, let me fix this." Mohamara found the light switch and changed the man's setting to his beret-wearing version. Then he trotted over, took the stool out from under the Imperial, and chucked it at Sheogorath. "Keep your fucking mouth shut while we're watching the movie, asshole!"

The Mad God had his mouth open at the time, so the stool flew into his mouth and was promptly swallowed. "Hmm. Tastes like bleu cheese."

Since that had failed to do the job of properly chastising the Mad God, Orchendor calmly walked up and knocked the bucket of cheese popcorn out of his hand, and spilled it all over the floor.

That seemed to get the message across. "No! My precious! Don't worry, daddy's here, daddy'll get you all nice and clean, don't cry." It was surreal, to watch one of most powerful Daedra in such a tizzy over popcorn. He was on his knees in short order and picked each one up with a set of tweezers to put them back in the bucket.

And when he was done, Orchendor spilled the bucket a second time.


The Master's daughter came to Qorach while it guarded the two halves of her father. The Big Moon was growing so fast-he knew that fact alone would cause the Master great pain. She couldn't speak very well in the low places, where mortals yapped at each other to convey information, but she had learned from watching 'Momamama' how to speak in the high spaces, with the force that called itself The Old Way.

She imparted ideas of fear, to Qorach. She had seen her pink Momamama hang limply in the air and strike her skinny Momamama. Mario wasn't around to help, and Qorach had not seen it a dire enough threat to intervene-but she was still afraid. Her fear filled her up and spilled over into the Little Moon, too young to understand it, and the fear became a feedback loop.

Jode asked Qorach in The Old Way how she could not be afraid. The metal snake's answer confused her: Treat the fear like pork. Gobble it up, and make it into fuel for action. Too much fear would paralyze her-and if she let the fear move her it would lead her down a path unbecoming the Big Moon.

On some level, Jode understood that she could do a better job at protecting herself than Momamama could-someone mean had stolen Momamama's claws and wouldn't give them back, but she still had hers. Grandpa had taught her some things with how to use her claws, but there was still more to learn. Qorach, though a snake, was made of strong stuff so it let her test her fangs and claws on its scales so she could learn from doing.

In The Old Way, Qorach made sure to squash any notions she had about protecting the Master or her brother on her own. J'zargo, Qorach, and Momamama's Friends were all there to help her.

But she was the Big Moon, so her natural response was to try and bite Qorach's head.

Jone became fussy, so Yehochanan crawled down from his nest in the rafters of the ship to comfort the Little Moon. The clacking of the spider-crab's claws always seemed to amuse him. The smell of blood distracted Jode from gnawing upon Qorach's head. Momamama's bloody nose had opened up again somehow, and with Momamama hurt and Mario nowhere to be seen, she was determined to take charge.

Jode released Qorach's head and trotted over to Momamama's bed. She'd seen her father heal people before-and even experienced it once or twice. Though she had never done it before, she was filled with the queer confidence of youth that things simply could be done from wanting to do them. And unlike other children, she was not wholly bound by the rules of the world-she was the Big Moon. So when she got to Momamama's pink body, she climbed up to his head and licked the side of his nose. The bleeding seemed to stop, but Jode was not satisfied, she began to purr and knead her paws into Momamama's shoulder. Grandpa had taught her to do these things when she was hurt, so she would use them to help Momamama.

"Well, would you look at that. Either you're one of those… alfie Khajiit or you're the smartest house cat I've ever seen in my life." The strange Nord woman entered the cabin near-silently and approached the bed where the Khajiit and scroll lay. "Still out cold? Usually not a good sign. But none of his students seem worried much abou-..." Jode watched the Nord woman survey the room and lock her eyes on Yehochanan playing his castanet claws for baby Jone. "What in Oblivion is that? And how can it carry a tune better than most bards?"

Yehochanan paused in his performance to whirl around and clack his claws at the Nord, before turning back to Jone.


Sanguine's parties were not to be missed. Every Prince, from Azura to Vaermina attended simply to have their whims catered to for an evening. As Sanguine's realms were transfinite in number, one for every appetite, everyone could get what they wanted. Sanguine himself had provided 'fun' for every decadence, hunger, or gnawing need-but what he found odd satisfaction in doing was facilitating the scandalous. And in over twenty-five kalpas, nothing was as scandalous as an Aedra visiting Oblivion to speak with her Daedric family. The Lord of Revelry made an overblown excuse that he had to attend to keep his other guests from sensing the Lady of Love and attempting something foolish, but in reality, it was to bear witness to the spectacle.

The meeting space for such scandalous rendezvous was a fine restaurant from a time not yet to come to Nirn. Sanguine was quite pleased with his work on the carpets and drapes-he didn't often work with velvet.

Naturally, the matriarch of the family arrived first. Azura, in her Dunmer aspect with pink-tinged white hair that dragged on the floor, with rose petals mixed into the strands. She couldn't assume her usually beautiful shape on account of Vivec's curse, but what she lost in traditional beauty she gained in regality.

Nocturnal arrived with neither pomp or fanfare, she stepped out of the shadows and made for the table that was set for them, seemingly annoyed that her precious time would be wasted waiting for her sisters to arrive.

Meridia appeared in blinding light, as a Colovian woman with hair made from light and a gown the colors of the rainbow. Before Vivec's curse, she had been the most regal of any of Azura's line, and she wore it better than her mother in Sanguine's opinion.

The guest of honor, Mara, deigned to play Sanguine's game. He had taken the role of the waiter for their 'evening meal' motif, so when she arrived she went first to the front desk to ring the bell and be shown to her table. Mara took the shape of a Breton woman, older looking than Azura, and large. She wore a comfortable, but only middlingly fashionable outfit for the meeting, and made small talk with her host as they approached the table. Before they arrived, Mara dropped a bombshell on Sanguine and her family as they were just barely in earshot.

"My plus one will be arriving shortly, could we have another chair?"

"Oh, but of course, ma'am," Sanguine replied with a bow. "It will just be a moment."

While Sanguine created the fifth chair, he pulled Mara's chair out for her as was expected of a gentleman. Mara frowned when she looked over the family table and checked over her shoulders for something, apparently missing. "Where is my nephew? I hoped to meet him. Perhaps even my great-niece and great-nephew?"

Nocturnal arched her brow and looked across the table at Meridia, who met her gaze, defiant. "Well, sister? Where is our nephew?"

Meridia said nothing, and cooly reached into her purse for her micro-slate. "A sixth chair, Sanguine," she told their host imperiously. With grace, she dialed and held the micro-slate up to speak. "Send someone to pick up my son. The less mortal-looking version of him, so that someone can watch my grandchildren." Meridia set the device back into her purse and impassively looked over to the youngest Azuran daughter.

"You should think to include him in our gatherings more," Azura said while she examined the menu. "Kindness would frankly help even out the apathy of your sister, and your domineering nature."

"I'm not apathetic," Nocturnal ground out between clenched teeth. "I just don't care about most of what you two talk about."

"Sisters, mother, we speak so rarely, can't we remember that we love each other for one night?" Mara pleaded with her family and was met with annoyed silence. "Sister, your temple was recently restored I hear-do you need help getting your backlogged work done?"

Nocturnal gently shook her head. "No, but thank you. I'm used to dealing with these backlogs, every Era it seems someone tries to block my influence on the world." She winked at Mara and inclined her head with a smug grin. "But if my current debtor keeps to his terms, perhaps that won't happen as often anymore."

"I'm so happy for you!"

"And I too am glad you won't be forced to sit back and watch your garden wither," Azura chimed in and placed one hand, heavy with rings, on her Night daughter's hand for a moment. But of course, she could not help herself. "Perhaps, when next we meet, you and Zenithar will finally give me another grandchild?"

Nocturnal's cheer vanished in a picosecond. "Mother, Zenithar and I are divorced. I haven't seen him in Eras, literally."

Meridia wisely chose to say nothing, lest Azura bring up that, technically, the Daedra of Day was still married to Kyne. After Lorkhan had died, the two had gone their separate ways to deal with the grief differently. But neither of them could bear to break the bond with the other. As far as Meridia knew, Kyne hadn't made any moves on anyone since Morihaus' father.

The more she thought of Kyne, the more that poison that was regret ate at her.

It was swiftly replaced with annoyance when she got a callback from her chamberlain. Once she answered, she conveyed that annoyance succinctly. "Speak." The information delivered to her only deepened her annoyance. "Peryite was able to split him could we do the-...what do you mean a class 1-A complication?" The answer drove Meridia to stand, and go red in the face. "My son does not cavort with vampires!"

"Meridia," Azura said and set her menu down. That one word seemed to take the fire out of Meridia's rage, and the Lady of Infinite Energies sat down. "Your son has been neglected, abused, and shown affection by proxy his whole life. A bit of rebellion is acceptable. Ensure that it isn't romantic, he's to be married and I won't have an adulterer in this family."

There was no use arguing with someone whose every decision-every action-was a tautology, as all three daughters knew well.

"...Fine, if we can't get the Scroll to let him go until he's completed that stupid prophecy, just bring my grandchildren. Question his chamberlain about the vampire, and bring the answer when you bring the kittens."

Sanguine popped into the scene briefly once Meridia's call was ended. "So… nix the sixth chair, bring in two high chairs?"

"High chair and a cushion," Meridia gracefully corrected, and then began to visibly stew in anger when their host was gone once more.

No one was going to place their orders until all the additional guests had arrived, so the four of them sat in an ever so slightly awkward silence. The silence came to an end with the bell ringing at the 'restaurant's front desk again. Presumably, Mara's plus one had arrived.

At first, neither of the Day and Night sisters or Azura herself recognized the man that Sanguine escorted in. He was tall-taller than any Elf that walked the earth and took the shape of a blond Nord man. But he didn't wear Nord fashion-he wore snakeskin boots that curved up at the toe, denim jeans and jacket, a denim shirt and a belt buckle with the symbol of a double-headed ax. In the crook of each arm, he carried one of the Moons. Jode played with his bolo tie, and Jone was enraptured by how his massive pinch-front hat was larger than the Little Moon's head.

Mara grinned ear to ear as the kittens were placed in their seats. They seemed to be placated with playing with the newcomer's tie and hat, or perhaps the word 'grandma' and 'food' had been used to win them over. It didn't seem to matter to the kittens as Sanguine stood to wait for the orders.

Once they were given, and the food was formed from creatia, the Lord of Revelry left the family, plus one, to their business.

"Daughter, introduce us to your… associate." Azura stirred her rosé and looked the newcomer over once more. Something about him seemed familiar to both her and Meridia, but neither could place it.

"Mind iffin' I introduce myself?" The newcomer put his hat back on, a subtle dig at Azura's position of authority, and grinned at the other three adults at the table. "Me an' Mara've been goin' steady, an' she wanted me ta meet Y'all." His dulcet tones, his linguistic choices, his ar-ti-cu-lation offended Azura's sensibilities visibly.

"Mother, sisters, babies, since Akatosh wouldn't know commitment if it punched him repeatedly in the face, I ended my relationship with him a long while ago." Mara rested her hand on the newcomer's and smiled pleasantly. "This is my boyfriend, Talos."

Talos tipped his hat to the three of them in turn. "Howdy."


You might be wondering why I made Talos into a cowboy.

Well, seeya.