Chapter 24:

Hitting a Wall

The Elder Scrolls Series is property of Bethesda. Familiar of Zero is (currently) property of Media Factory (I believe)

"Talking"

"Thoughts"

"Powerful (Dragon/Daedra/etc.) speech"

"DOVAHZUL"

/+/+/+/+/

Louise and Siesta spent the next few days reading over the books Master Johan had given them—well, mostly. They still had their other lessons (Siesta's being far more intensive than Louise's) but they devoted a good deal of their free time to studying the Elv—the Mer—of Tamriel. Louise more so than Siesta.

As…fun…as all that was, however, there were other things that required the young mage's attention. Like summoning demons from across dimensions. Which was also a…fun…topic of study.

Unfortunately, their start was not an auspicious one.

Before even entertaining the idea of spellcasting, he sat her down and drilled her with various question on Conjuration theory for hours.

'What happens if you lack the Magicka required to complete a spell?' Nothing.

'What happens if you're interrupted while casting a summoning spell?' It fails.

'Why can't a portal open if you aim at a wall?' Because Daedra, for all their otherworldly insanity, still obey some form of natural law.

'What if you summon a Daedra and you can't control it?' It gets loose and probably tries to kill you.

And so on.

Of course, Louise passed with flying colors (she'd never lacked for knowledge). Thus, a day later, her Master deemed it time to start. First, he'd taken them far away from their camp, and left behind Siesta and Derflinger as a result (summoning Arniel and Lucien to watch over them, to both their friends' discomfort). When questioned on it, he simply said, "Daedra get skittish."

It was only when he summoned two large cages that she really grew alarmed. She gulped, "Um…what are those for?"

He grunted, "One's for the creature you're going to summon. If the spell fails for whatever reason, the cage should hold the Daedra long enough for me to kill it."

"…And the other one?"

"For you." As she spluttered indignantly, he continued, "If, by some terrible stroke of luck, the Daedra escapes the cage will offer you protection. "

Louise scoffed, "I can take care of myself."

"I thought so as well," the elder mage said with a chuckle, "but then I cast my first Conjuration spell and would have lost an eye—if not more—were it not for the timely intervention of a nearby hunter." He pat the cage, "And I was a lot better with a dagger than you were." Louise scowled, but held her tongue. "Regardless, we're here to practice Conjuration, and we shall do so." He snapped his fingers, a purple book with the mark of the Conjuration school appearing out of thin air and dropping onto his hand. "This spell is known as 'Conjure Familiar'." She did her best not to wince at that last word. Unfortunately, Master Johan noticed, and with a furrowed brow, asked, "What? What's the—oh…I get it." They stared at each other for a moment. He then shrugged, "Consider this an opportunity to redeem yourself—not that you haven't done so already." She smiled, but inwardly, she wouldn't consider herself 'redeemed' until she'd shown all those that once mocked her how wrong they had been.

He gave her the book, "You've seen me cast this spell once or twice." He summoned an orb of purple energy in his right hand. He clenched his fist, condensing the magical energy, and then threw his arm before them.

A portal to Oblivion opened with a metallic hum. When the portal faded, a blue, translucent wolf was in its place. She flinched, surreptitiously rubbing her scarred arm. She swallowed her nerves, looking back towards her master and asking, "So, these things are actually Daedra?"

Master Johan hummed, staring at the wolf, "It's not a Daedra in the traditional sense."

"Ah," Louise hummed, looking the wolf over critically, "this is one of those 'forcibly transforming' spells, then?" She then frowned, "Wait, is this the only spell you're giving me? You usually give me an few options."

"That's true," he nodded, dispelling his summoned creature, "and in all honesty this isn't even the simplest of the novice spells."

She cocked a brow, "And just what are the 'simplest ones'?"

A shrug, "Spells which transform a lesser Deadra into inanimate objects. Usually weapons, but there are higher-tier spells which can make seats, tables, even a bed."

"Then why not give me the spells that turn Daedra into weapons?" At his blank stare, she scoffed, "Master, I know I've been…obstinate with regards to weaponry, but I'd prefer to start from the first level with something so dangerous."

"No, that's not it," he replied. When she opened her mouth to ask what 'it' was, he continued, "I want you to think about it."

Louise huffed, furrowing her brow but doing as asked. Even if she had no idea why. He'd been harping on about the potentially fatal consequences of failing a Conjuration spell. Why not do the thing that would less likely lead to injury? To say nothing of the fact that forcibly morphing a demon into an animal had to be more difficult than forcibly morphing them into—

She paused with a sharp inhale, eyes widening as she realized what he meant. "Oh…"

"'Oh' indeed," he said with a smirk. "You can aim where you summon a creature. Can't really do that with an object." He pointed to one of the cages, "And with any luck, you'll be able to aim it there."

Louise nodded, taking a deep breath, "Better get started." Her master nodded, snapping his fingers and summoning a stool and desk for her to use. She placed the book on the table, but before she sat down, recalled something he'd said just minutes ago. She turned, nervously darting her eyes between him and his summoned items. "Um…Master," she began, "are these…?" she trailed off uncertainly.

"Hm? Oh! No, those are ordinary wooden pieces of furniture." He waved his hand lazily in the air, "Conjured objects are translucent and some shade of blue or purple. Don't worry," he smirked, "you've never sat your butt upon a Deadra's face."

Louise blushed up a storm—she hadn't even thought of that!—and turned away with a scowl.

/+/+/+/+/

"You've read over everything?" Master Johan asked her after she'd spent an hour pouring over the spell book.

Louise nodded, "Yes. In order to open a portal to Obl—"

"I don't doubt your knowledge," he cut her off with a smile, "You've proven to be an intelligent young woman." Louise did her best to keep from smiling too widely. But that smile faded with his next words. "However, I must ask if you're absolutely sure you want to go through with this."

She sighed, crossing her arms "I'm really quite fine with it, Master. Obviously," she gestured to nothing, "I won't summon Daedra alone. Nor do I plan on performing a Conjuration spell in public once I leave your tutelage—I'd start off with the School of Destruction when I'm finally ready to publicize all you've taught me." She paused, recalling a question that had been floating in the back of her mind for a while now. "When do you plan on ending my tutelage?"

"When you've reached a level of skill and knowledge that I deem adequate," he replied. Before Louise could comment on his non-answer, he continued, "But that's not what I was talking about. The books I gave you should have gone over how the realm of Oblivion, quote, 'brands your soul'."

Louise blanched; she'd assumed that was hyperbole. Aloud, she said, "I'd thought it was just a phrase meant to instill caution in novices."

"No," her master said gravely, "it is not." He began to pace, gesticulating, "In order to properly summon a creature—any creature—from Oblivion, a connection needs to be established. A pathway for the summoned being to travel through. With the end point of that pathway being the summoner."

"Me," Louise concluded with a gulp. "I'm…meant to be some sort of anchor for the realm of Oblivion?"

"That's a good way to put it!" her master said with a snap of his fingers. "And once that anchor is established, it becomes a permanent part of your soul."

Louise started to hyperventilate, "So…that means that demons could try and use me to invade my home? That I need to constantly be on guard for an attack?!"

"No!" he shouted, rushing forward and kneeling down to look her in the eyes. "That is not a problem at all! At least," he pursed his lips, "not in the way you're thinking." At her questioning stare, he sighed. "If you enter some sort of bargain with a powerful enough Daedra—like a Prince—they may be able to whisper in your ear, or even manifest a projection of their beings. And that's a big if. But lesser Daedra—the ones you're going to summon—are not nearly so powerful."

"So…this connection…"

"Is harmless. However, while in Tamriel such knowledge is well-known and, frankly, easily dismissed among mages, I would be remiss to not ensure you understood exactly what you—who lack that blasé knowledge—were getting into."

Louise nodded, her breathes beginning to even out. "I understand. Thank you, Master," she said with a shaky smile. "I would still like to go through with this."

He returned her smile—much more confidently—and gently pat her shoulders, "Very well." He rose to his feet, and gestured to the cages, "So long as you're ready."

Louise huffed good-naturedly, "Let's get this over with," and entered the closest cage.

As he closed it, Master Johan said, "Now, you're first attempt will most likely fail. That's fine. Hardly anyone gets it right the first time around. Just make sure that you aim at the other cage."

She nodded, "Right." She gulped, "But what if I miss?"

"I'll be right here. But just in case," he turned, shoving his arm forward and opening a portal to Oblivion. From the portal, a truly bizarre creature appeared. At first, it appeared to be a pile of rocks, but then purple lightning began to spark between the stones. There was a short gust of wind, and the rocks began to rise. Dark clouds formed around the rocks, swirling in the air as the rocks sparked and slid together. In the end, a very crude, very rudimentary face, upper body, and arms were formed within the clouds, floating just above the ground.

"This," her master gestured to the summoned creature, "is a Storm Atronach. A type of elemental Daedra. Among the strongest, actually."

Louise blinked, "Wait…that's a Daedra?" She looked the demon over once more, staring into its purple facsimile of eyes. "It's…different than what I was expecting."

"They don't all look the Titan," he tapped its chest, shaking his hand when sparks flew against it, "but rest assured, if it weren't under my control, it would try to kill us." Louise wasn't entirely sure how that was supposed to be assuring, but let the matter lie in favor of focusing on her own task.

She looked the spell book over, focusing on a specific passage. It read:

'When summoning the Daedra, don't try to maintain to tight a grip on your Magicka. Though Oblivion and Mundus are separated by a variety of factors, magic is magic, no matter where you are. Let it flow through the natural pathways between dimensions; you only need to focus on dominating the Daedra with your will."

Louise sighed; it was a mess, but also the least confusing and most direct passage in the spell book. But then, Alteration magic was just as confusing with its constant assertions that 'reality is a dream we can manipulate with magic', and those spells were pretty easy to cast once you got down to it. Perhaps it would be intuitive.

She took a deep breath. The book said let the magic flow, so she'd let the magic flow.

She wasn't sure how long she just stood there, hand facing upward as she pooled, but did not focus, Magicka in her palm. In the beginning, she was content to just wait. Let her innate magic abilities do their thing. But that lead to nothing more than her arm getting tired.

"Take a break," her master said when she lowered her arm with a huff. "Think about what you're trying to accomplish."

Instead of snapping that she was simply trying to establish a connection to a dimension inhabited solely by demons, she held her tongue. She began to ruminate on what she knew of Oblivion; which wasn't much. But she did know what if felt like; at least, what the portals her master opened felt like. By all means, the portals she'd open would feel the same, so why not focus on that?

Thus, she closed her eyes, holding her hand out in preparation of the spell. She dwelled on the otherworldly nature of the portals; their metallic hums upon opening, the brief chill in the air, the smell of sulfur and other unpleasantries.

Then, she gasped. She felt ice and fire and lightning lance up her arm, down her chest and pooling in her gut. Her breathing quickened as the energy roiled in her body, forcing her to shudder and gasp.

"Louise." her master's teasing voice cut through the pain, "open your eyes."

Her face heated up upon recalling one of his first lessons, and she quickly snapped her eyes open. Which turned out to be a good thing, because she could see wisps of purple smoke floating out from her palm. She grit her teeth, flexing her fingers and focusing her latent Magicka on her palm. This had the added consequence of releasing the turmoil of energy in her gut, shooting back up her body and into her palm.

A chill ran down her spine, and then, finally, an orb of purple mist formed within her palm. Louise couldn't help the smile that wormed its way on her face.

"Excellent work!" Louise jumped back with a shriek, inadvertently cancelling the spell as her master pressed his face against the bars of her cell, grinning widely at her.

"Hahaha! Sorry," Master Johan leaned back, "I didn't mean to freak you out."

"Well you did," she groused, but was ultimately unable to keep the smile off her face.

"Now, let's cast that spell, hm?" Louise nodded fervently, returning to her previous stance. She recast the spell, shivering and gasping as she once again felt a chill down her spine as the orb of mist formed in her palm.

"What was that?" her master asked curiously. At her questioning grunt, he elaborated, "Why'd you shiver like that?"

"When I cast the spell, I felt a chill down my spine," she answered. "Is that bad?"

He grunted, "It's fine. Most people feel something when they first cast Conjuration spells. You learn to ignore it."

"What do you feel, Master?" Louise as she stared at her orb.

"My palms would heat up," he shrugged, "as if I were standing before a fire. Now," he gestured to the empty cage, "aim and release."

The young mage nodded. "So…I just point and thrust, right?" she asked, recalling his own movements.

"Yes. Don't worry if you end up missing your mark. Good aim will come with practice." She nodded, licking her lips and squaring her shoulders. She drew her arm back, and with a short breath, shot her hand forward, flexing her fingers outward and the ball of purple smoke vanished from her palm.

And a portal to Oblivion opened up within the cage.

"Yes!" Louise cheered, pumping her fists in joy. Only her good mood to faded away as the portal disappeared to reveal what she'd summoned.

"Aw, you failed," her master idly noted. Louise scowled briefly but returned her attention to the creature in the cage. It was a small thing—smaller than her, even. It had a very large head, but aside from its large, knife-tipped ears, possessed disproportionately small eyes and mouth (it also, to her mild disgust, lacked a nose, but had nostril holes). It tilted its head when it caught sight of Louise, lifting its clawed hands—which were attached to a pair of arms which had skin, scales, and fur. It crooned softly, eyes widening in a very doe-like manner.

And then it hissed at her, revealing multiple rows of razor-sharp teeth. It roared something incomprehensible, banging its head against the bars of its cage.

Kra-Boom

Louise flinched a purple lightning zoomed forward, striking the Daedra. The Storm Atronach floated forward, blocking Louise's sight as it blasted at its fellow demon again and again. Eventually, it stopped, moving away and showing Louise the scorch marks where the Daedra once stood.

She paled, slowly turning her wide-eyed gaze at the stoic Atronach.

"I know what you're thinking," her master said, "and you're wrong." She turned to look at him. "It wasn't vaporized," he said with a slight shake of the head, "just banished back to Oblivion. Should have let you see that." He shrugged, "Eh, you'll have another chance, I'm certain."

Louise decided not to take his offhand comment as an omen. "What exactly was that?" she asked. "What type of Daedra was it?"

"A Scamp. One of the least of the lesser Daedra, but by no means harmless." Louise nodded, beginning to recall the other lesser Daedra she'd read about, but quickly discarded such thoughts in favor of retrying the spell.

She began casting the spell, doing her best to ignore the chill running down her spine. Once again, she opened a portal within the second cage. Once again, she failed to morph the Daedra into a translucent wolf.

This time, the Atronach stayed in one spot as it blasted the Scamp. Now, she was able to see that, when the demon 'died', it fell over in a slump, disappearing in purple mist.

She turned a questioning gaze to her master, "They return to Oblivion when they die in this realm?" She then recalled that the Daedric Titan in the Cairn hadn't done so and said as much.

"It depends on the creature and the method in which they were summoned," he replied with a nod. "But even if a Daedra's physical body is left behind, their soul—and conciousness, if they're powerful enough—return to Oblivion." Louise filed that bit of information away and set about practicing once more.

/+/+/+/+/

Louise was still unable to successfully cast the Conjure Familiar spell. The closest she'd gotten was a translucent tail swishing out the portal, but the spell would ultimately fail, and a Scamp would try and chew its way through its temporary prison.

Still, she didn't take the setback too harshly. The School of Conjuration was the one type of Tamrielic magic that didn't really have an equivalent to Halkaegnian magic. She didn't have any basis to follow. Although, Master Johan had a different theory.

"Every mage comes across at least one topic which they cannot intuitively grasp," he'd said. "I've told you that I have trouble with water magic, and before that the School of Restoration required a greater amount of effort for me to learn and master. In truth, I've been wondering when we'd hit your first wall in training." He then grinned that stupid, smarmy grin of his, "outside of weaponry, at least."

She'd fumed a bit, after that, and decided to take a break from magical studies in order to study up on the elves of Tamriel. And as much as she wished otherwise, she couldn't help but find it all fascinating.

Like the Altmer, otherwise known as High Elves who, surprisingly, shared some deities with the Nords, albeit under their own interpretations. They also—as a rule, according to the literature—believed that their race was the most superior due to their heightened magical prowess. A sentiment—and she shuddered at the thought—she could understand.

There were the Bosmer, or Wood Elves. The majority lived in vast forests and jungles and appeared to be as tribalistic as her people were before the Founder uplifted them. They also, to her bemusement, swore off any and all products which were created by a plant. It had to do with the core of their religion, but in all honesty, she didn't really want to delve into that on top of everything else.

And then there were the Dunmer, dubbed Dark Elves for their charcoal skin—a bit on the nose, really. While she found the fact that their entire race was—somehow—mildly fireproof to be astounding, she was most interested in their religion. Which was dominated by the Daedra.

They actually worshipped demons.

It was the latter group she wished to speak with Master Johan about. She could understand if some madmen wanted to try and commune with demons in some misguided attempt to gain power, but to actively worship them? To craft a religion around them? It was almost too wild to believe.

Thus, she waited until sunset one night, a little over a week into their travels. A storm was brewing overhead, and Master Johan invited Louise and Siesta to eat their dinner in his tent; and had even set out some extra cots incase the downpour grew too violent.

Siesta, thankfully, was in charge of the meal. Leaving Johan hunched over his desk, marking notes in a book as he was transmuting an iron ball to gold, bronze, and other precious metals.

"Master?" She began, waiting until he looked up from his task, "I'd like to discuss your people's gods and demons."

He smiled then, a soft thing that sent warmth through her stomach. He turned fully, telekinetically summoning a stool and gesturing for her to sit. He turned to Siesta, "Would you like to join in?"

The young woman paused her stirring, before shrugging, "Not really." She blushed lightly, "It's all a bit overwhelming to be honest."

Louise sympathized; it could be a bit much. Surprisingly, Johan laughed, saying, "That's fair. I've lived my entire life knowing of the Divines and Daedra, and I still have trouble keeping all their tales straight." Siesta smiled back, before returning to her task, "What about you, Derflinger?" he asked the blade, who was resting against Johan's cot.

"Mmm—wha?" he snored, cross guard clacking lightly. "What's up?"

"Never mind, go back to sleep."

"With pleasure," Derflinger yawned.

"So," the old mage returned his attention to his student, "what exactly did you want to talk about?"

Louise cleared her throat, drumming her fingers along the table. "You once said the Daedric Princes ruled over their own realms of Oblivion. That they were tyrants."

"You're wondering why people would worship them," he flatly interrupted her. At her fervent nod, he sighed, "Fair enough. But I do remember amending myself and saying that some of them can be quite agreeable." He paused, huffing, "Under the right circumstances and if you haven't offended them, of course."

Louise scoffed, "I fail to see how. By all accounts, Daedra are creatures of destruction, who's only purpose in life—" she stopped herself, then (she idly heard Siesta gasp softly as well). Stopped herself because of the way her master phrased that last bit. There was something odd and mildly terrifying about what he'd said. She gulped, staring up at him with wide eyes. "M-Master," she said, trying to keep the quiver out of her voice, "have you…met these Princes?"

"Yes." He grinned wryly, "Made an enemy of a few of them too."

Louise could swear she'd hear a pin drop, even above the downpour outside the tent, after his confession. She stared at him, and he smirked back. She blinked, he blinked back.

FWA-BOOOOM

Louise jumped as lightning crashed overhead, which had the unfortunate consequence of sending her tumbling backwards onto the ground. She would have fallen, had Johan not reached over and grabbed her by her shirt.

"Thank you," she said absently, straightening her clothes as he nodded. She then cleared her throat. "…WHAT?!"

"Trying to sleep!" Derflinger shouted. Louise deftly ignored him.

"Is it because you're half-god?" Siesta asked timidly.

"No," Master Johan replied.

Louise scoffed, "Now's not the time for false modesty."

"Honest!" he cried. "I can only think of two instances in which one of the Princes referenced my divinity. The others didn't seem to care."

"You're the son of a draconic god of time!" Louise all but shouted. "The chief god of your religion!"

"And only two Princes ever cared enough to notice."

Louise ground her teeth; rubbing her temples as she reigned in her incredulity. For the sake of her sanity, she could only focus on one thing at a time. "…Going back…you've met with the Princes?"

"Ah," he flippantly waved his hand, "it's not that impressive. Happens all the time."

"Really?" Siesta asked timidly.

"Really!" he said with an enthusiastic nod. "The Princes may not be able to directly interact with Mundus, but they are able to choose mortals as their Champions to perform their wills."

"Excuse me!" Louise shouted, rising to her feet, "You're saying that there are people out there directly empowered by demons accomplish their dastardly ambitions!" She'd assumed cults around them existed, but not that they'd actually accomplish anything.

Now, he laughed, "Nothing so grand in most circumstances. They force their 'chosen' to perform a task, give them some rare artifact, and then call it a day."

"And in other circumstances?" Louise asked, leaning closer and glaring at him.

At that he frowned, "Ah…well then people start dying in droves."

Before Louise could start off once more, Siesta said, "Weren't you asking how people could worship these things?" Louise paused, taking a deep breath and nodding thankfully at her friend. She then looked back at Johan, cocking her brow.

He shrugged, "Honestly, it's a mixed bag. Orcs—you've read on them, right?" Louise nodded hesitantly—she mainly focused on the Dunmer. "Well, their chosen Prince is Malacath, read anything on him?"

"He's also a Dunmer god, right?"

"Technically. They don't actively worship him, but they do name him as one of four other Princes that are—how to put this—troublemakers." He leaned back, "The Dumner view Malacath as a source of strife and needless conflict. A petty thug that takes pleasure in violence."

"And the Orcs?"

"They view him as a protector and guardian. One who guides them through the chaos that is life. And, when they die—assuming they've lived in a manner Malacath views as worthy—rewards them."

"That's…how can they have completely different views of him?"

"Context," Master Johan answered with a shrug. "Take the Founder Brimir. Mankind—mages especially—view him as a savior, no? The man who took the fight to the evil elves and paved the way for mankind's survival?"

Louise grew uneasy, but nonetheless answered, "That is correct."

"Well, think how the elves might view him." She really didn't want to. "I don't doubt that he'd be seen as a vile demon who massacred elven kind unprovoked."

"Like Ysgramor?" The two mages turned to Siesta, who flinched at their sudden attention. "I mean…he's described as slaying every elf that crossed his path. That's genocide, isn't it? Makes him a monster in some regards."

"Perhaps," Master Johan replied evenly.

Louise took a deep, calming breathe. She pursed her lips, frowning deeply, "Are you—are you two suggesting that the Founder is…a monster?"

"No!" Johan quickly said, while Siesta fervently shook her head, eyes widening. "We're not saying that at all." Before Louise could grow placated, he added, "I'd need to get the elven accounts of the whole debacle anyway before I could decide on that."

"Debacle?" Louise repeated incredulously.

"Bah," he scoffed, waving his hand dismissively, "You know what I mean." She did, but it was still annoying. "Anyway," he shook his head, "back to the Dunmer."

"Sure," she rubbed her temples, "could you go back to the different Daedra they worship?"

"Well, there are two subsets of deities the Dunmer currently worship—or acknowledge above the rest, at the very least; you know them?"

Louise nodded, "The Reclamations and House of Troubles, right?"

"Indeed. Can you recall who's in which? And what they're in charge of?"

She pursed her lips, "There are three that are part of the Reclamations. Azura, Prince of…Twilight. Along with the Prince of, er, lies, Mephala, and the Prince of…anarchy?" she asked, to which her master shrugged in affirmation, "Bothita—"

"Boethiah," her master corrected. "Better get those pronunciations down, don't want to do that in front of the wrong Dunmer."

She did her best to ignore his amused tone; when would she ever meet a Dunmer? "The House of Troubles holds four members. The aforementioned Malacath," her throat constricted as she recalled another member. "…You lied about what Molag Bal was Prince of," she whispered hollowly.

At that, he sighed, "I did not lie. I merely…neglected to mention it."

"Hm?" Derflinger yawned, "What you lie about, Boss?"

"Molag Bal's proper title i-is King o-of," Siesta stammered a bit, before finishing, "Rape."

"…Your people have a King of Rape?" the blade asked, aghast and fully awake.

"Wouldn't say we have him" Johan groused, "more like he just showed up one day and started stirring up trouble."

"Is your casualness to all this the norm among the people of Tamriel when discussing the Daedra?" Siesta asked with a small voice.

"Eh," he waved his hand in a 'so-so' gesture. "I doubt you'd hear such conversations while walking to the market. But everyone has their own opinions as to which Daedra are and are not worth worrying about at any given time." He hummed, "For instance, outside of the Dunmer and Orcs, no one really cares about Malacath."

"So…people don't worship the more…malicious ones?" Louise asked with reluctant hope. A hope that was dashed when her master shook his head.

"I'm afraid that's not the case," he said with a sad sigh, "The Princes know the value of rewarding mortals who please them. The 'malicious ones' especially. And most mortals are too fearful to piss them off if they ever run afoul of them, so they typically end up doing whatever they ask."

"Are you not?" Louise asked askance.

"Well, I'm not technically mortal," he said with a smirk. Only to immediately frown. "But not even I'm so brash," was all he said. And—save for the harsh pitter-patter of the rain—silence reigned.

"Er…are there any more of those troublemakers?" Siesta asked, breaking the quiet.

Louise coughed, wringing her hands together, "There are two more," she paused, and at her master's nod, continued. "There's Mehrunes Dagon, the Prince of Destruction, and Sheogorath, the Prince of Madness."

"Ugh, FINALLY!" Louise jumped as a heavily accented voice shouted from nowhere. "Do you know how long I've been waiting? I could feel my skin starting to wrinkle! I mean, I can do that normally, but still, annoying."

A sharp gasp and the clattering of wood caught her attention next. She turned to the source of the noise and was dumbstruck to see her master standing over a fallen stool. Well, his standing wasn't the shocking bit; what was shocking was his face. His mouth was parted slightly, his nostrils flared, and his eyes…they were wide with fear.

"Weeeeeeelllll?" The same voice sang from nowhere—no, everywhere, "Aren't you going to invite me in?"

"M-M-Mi—"

"Silence!" Master Johan harshly cut Siesta off. "Listen to me, all of you," he said, voice cold as ice, "whatever happens, do not panic. Do not shout, do not scream, do nothing unless directly spoken too, understood? Don't speak!" he hissed, "just nod." Louise did so, and she could dimly hear Siesta gulp, and Derflinger clamp his cross guard closed. But she was still in disbelief. Surely, it couldn't have been possible?

"Heeellloooo?" the disembodied voice crooned.

Then, her master…relaxed. The fear slid off his face, a sort of calm apathy taking its place. He grunted, "Since when do you need permission to do anything, Sheogorath?"

There was another crack of thunder, and in the blink of an eye, a man—if you could call it that—was before them. He was an elderly man—no—he just had stark white hair, there was not a wrinkle on his face. He was wearing…a dress. Not a robe, a dress; a green, floofy thing covered in white frills. He even wore matching green heels.

"Oh," Sheogorath, the Daedric Prince of Madness, sighed, tilting his head back, "not since the late Third Era." He dropped his head down to smile at Johan—the skin pulling back far too much, revealing a set of immaculately white teeth. "But it's always nice to ask."

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A/N: It was either Sheogorath or Hermaeus Mora. Maybe Barbas. Be sure to leave a review. Later.