"Mittens!"-"Mittens!" Two opposite voices speak at the same time, behind the young Witch. She would've jumped in surprise given how sneaky her older siblings are, but years of pranks have honed her internal radar. Of course that doesn't mean getting rid of them got any easier...
Two shadows creep over her shoulders. Both synchronized and oozing so much self confidence it makes her want to vomit. But she's more refined then that. She's Amity Blight! A proud member of the most renowned family of the Boiling Isles! No charlatan fools can make her confidence falter!
"Are you drawing an anime again, dearest baby sister?" Asks her elder brother, Edric, with a lopsided smile "Is it for your girlfriend?" His twin sister, Emira, finishes with a perfectly mirrored smile.
Amity goes red faced in angbaressment, "sh-SHUT UP! LUZ IS JUST A FRIEND!"
"Who's also a girl, right?"
"Daww, they're so cute! Our little baby lesbian!"
She snaps her angry retort shut before it can leave her lips. She may be only fourteen, but Amity's been dealing with her older sibling's teasings and tricks for as long as she can remember. And if there's one thing anyone close to Amity Blight knows about her, its she's always had a very good memory.
Never rise to the bait. She's learned that the hard way by now.
Instead she opts to silently fume, shaking like a jar of angry, trapped spiders. She knows what that looks like because of a certain pair of green haired jerks...
Thankfully their teasing turns to mild curiosity. The Witches of the Boiling Isles have a complex relationship with the demonic beasts that roam the island which itself was formed from the corpse of a dead, Titanic Beast several millennia old. The Demons of the Boiling Isles range from being sentient like Witches to being bestial and used for mundane things like school alarms or transportation.
No one bothers to even attempt to catalogue the vast number of demons let alone try and understand their society and morphology. There's simply too many of them for it to be feasible. A train of thought like this then leads into another, more curious aspect of demon nature.
Everything in the Mythical Human Realm most likely has an analogous counterpart in the Isles, most of which are a qurky shaped demon of some kind doing the job. Humans have clocks made from a clever combination of metal gears and springs: Witches just have Demonic servants that are remarkably good at tracking time and also sturdy enough to be punched silent for years. Human drive around in metal machines that take them to and from their various, torturous jobs; Witches ride inside of some horrifying monster. Humans use small rectangles to talk and share silly pictures of themselves: Witches use tiny enchanted scrolls to the same effect. Mostly through Penstagram with people at her age, but even then she's heard from Luz Human's have almost the exact same thing in her world too.
Amity does find it interesting how much of an impact Humans have had on Witch society considering her friend Luz is the first Human on the Isles in something like five hundred years. Of course the monstrous house-sized Trash Slugs that have been vomiting human artifacts more recently is what really has been fueling the Isle's current obsession with the human junk Luz's peddler mentor sells most days. Said junk is also what's apparently been giving many Witch inventors ideas for new creations, most of which are just random quirky Demons assigned a new task.
Why then would Amity go through such trouble to steal a forbidden book from her father's library and setup possibly the most complex summoning circle currently in the Boiling Isles to summon and even more special demon if she could just ask her parents for a specialized demonic servant? Well, there's a certain power one can gain from binding a demon not native to the isles. The ancient Wild Witches did as such and despite the barbaric era they occupied, Wild Witches were well known for being far more powerful than modern ones.
Amity craves power. If she can pull this off, even her overbearing parents will have to acknowledge her!
Emira, the older twin sister of the Blight sibling trio, stares at the complex runic circle Amity's kneeling in. The lines are a complex series of blood red geometric shapes forming a disturbing mandala, the symbols inside the surrounding border are harsh and genuinely evil looking and likely far older than should legally be allowed to be read by a fourteen year old. Colorful candles are mathematically placed and lit, gentle streams of thick smoke dancing up and filling the room like a midnight fog. An old, dusty book bound in (hopefully wild Demon) black leather is held in her pale baby sister's hands. An old fashioned summoning, obviously. Oh how furious their mother and father would be if they were here right now. She can't help but feel proud. Her baby Mittens is breaking rules! Looks like that stick is finally slipping out...
"Soooo..." Edric, Amity's older brother, starts, nervously running a hand through his mossy green hair trying his best not to show just how creeped out he is by the sparsely lit storage room Amity's turned into some kind of spooky haunted mansion murder basement.
He clears his throat and steels his nerves, continuing, "-gonna summon a Demon? One of those old timers you hear the Emperor's Coven tell ghost stories of when they visit the school? The Master Mirror, maybe? Oh! How about The Shadow King? The snotty manager of the downtown food bar?!"
Amity huffs and turns her nose back to the book, studying the harsh text religiously. "I'm gonna summon and bind something real thank you very much! I know what I'm doing. These kind of things only go wrong if you mess the ritual up, which you would easily with how serious the rules of summoning are, but anyone with a halfway functioning brain can follow the step by step instructions and succeed in getting a decent demon."
Edric scoffs in faux hurt. Yet all three of them know nothing, no matter how scathing, Amity says will ever really hurt the twins feelings. They're far to used to her bitter retorts by now.
"It can't be that easy? Just looking at that book makes my eyes want to bleed, and I'm not even joking about that. The words literally irritate my eyes, like, magically."
The youngest of the three green haired Blights just rolls her eyes at her brother's nonsense, writing it off as another infamous Blight Twin joke, completely oblivious to the actual physical effect the book has on her brother.
"It really is easy," Amity Explains, "This is the thousands year old equivalent of a Summoning for Dummies book. Translated, these pages literally have step by step instructions to summoning a 'daedra'. There's tons of these old words no one uses anymore in here too. 'Magicka', 'Daedra', and 'Oblivion'. Really curious stuff. Stuff you two don't care about so step out and let me do this in peace!"
Edric and Emira's eyes meet, both reaching the same conclusion in their near-psychic conversation; Something about this whole situation is wrong, and Mittens is about to get herself into some serious trouble.
"Amity... why do you want to do this? Familiars are basically irrelevant now. Getting a Palisman isn't that super hard and we've got loads of servants around. Not to mention you can make your own servant with Abomination magic. Summoning isn't illegal or that taboo, it's just... frowned upon as unnecessary and needlessly dangerous. What do you get from this?"
Their baby sister goes quiet. Emira can't quite make out what she whispers, but the closer Edric does, and it feels like his heart-sack is about to rupture.
She wants to be unique. The Blight siblings know how controlling their parents are, especially with Amity. They literally have a map of events going years into the future that Amity has to follow as the posterchild of the Blight family name. They even dyed her hair from its natural brown to a light green similar to the twin's own dark green so they all could match! She's more a tool than daughter and all of them know it.
Edric can understand why she would want to summon a familiar. It would be something wholly unique to her and not on the payroll of their parents. Whatever she can do, having something that separates her from her parents is something Amity Blight strives for, and if being proficient at an obsolete magic will do it then there you go. Amity Blight is all in.
Edric twiddles his thumbs nervously and sits down quietly outside the magic circle. Amity turns to him with a raised eyebrow, but he gives her a sincere smile.
"I'll just supervise. Just incase you get some axe wielding maniac and you need some power to send it back!" Emira scoffs and sits next to him, elbowing his side with a grin, "Please. I'm the stronger twin. You'll just scream while us girls deal with all the hard fighting!"
The sole male sibling grumbles and looks away in faux pain. Moments of connection like this are rare in the House of Blight, but when they happen a kinship rekindles in the hearts of the Blight Siblings. Something so deep, ancient and powerful yet so simple a single word summarizes it all.
Family.
Of course the moment is ruined when the first words of summoning from Amity's lips cause an explosion.
Ah! The Shivering Isles! What a home! Maybe a country, or a realm? No. Experience. The layman can't ever describe the experience. Nor a clever man with all kinds of funny little thoughts running around his mind. By Nocturnal's [REDACTED] not even the lord of the experience himself can explain it! They used to be able to, but the whole Greymarch ending after millennia of boring-not boring drama and the old Lord of Madness being replaced by a quirky, super unique and oh so bored Breton whom was once an honored Hero tends to flip things on its head. Now he is... something lesser. And greater, too? Eh, it depends on the day. Things like to change quickly in the Isles.
His Isles now. That's a thought that'll take some getting used to for the retired champion. The Hero of Kvatch, Archmage of the Arcane University and a dozen other titles sits on his throne looking over the grand hall of New Sheoth Palace and sulks. It's been years now, years since the portal to Nirn was closed with the defeat of Mehrunes Dagon and years since he's gotten to have an adventure.
Sure, the Shivering Isles is always full of old dungeons and ruins to run around and throw spells in like crazy. Sure, the Isles are home to an ever changing cast of insane crazies with never ending tasks for the wandering adventurer, but you can only kill so many Grummites and Shambles before it gets boring!
The New Lord sits in his throne and grumbles while the palace staff shamble about, refusing to meet his gaze for fear of calling some curse upon them. Of course their quirky madness aggravates the new Sheogorath like none before, but he can hardly give them fault. Right now, ironically, the new Sheogorath is likely the sanest person in the Shivering Isle's!
Wait. Scratch that. Perhaps Haskill or Dyus are more deserving of the title of 'sane'? Funny considering both were/are the Chamberlains of the Daedric Princes of Madness and order concordantly.
The misbegotten hero feels himself slipping as the days go on. Jyggalag's pondering must've been true after all. The Hero can feel it. Death can never take him, his physical form feels more like a suggestion than a fact now, (did he always have grey hair? Was he always so old looking? What's happened to his eyes?!) and his magicka and therefore his spells are stronger than they've ever been. One time, for old times sake, The Hero created a fireball with the biggest radius he could image and tested it out near Passwall.
Suffice to say they had to relocate and rebuild after the landslide. Also repopulate too, but they don't hold that against him. The kicker that he got from it is that he felt essentially no dip in his magicka from it!
As a scholar of the Arcane University these findings are fascinating, ground breaking and worthy publishing mountainous volumes of theories on the nature of Daedra and Oblivion. However, as a former mortal, he is frightened. Too frightened to write them down now for fear of becoming corrupt like so many others before him.
Some nights the fear is overwhelming, why its simply... Maddening.
Power changes men and mer alike. Mannimarco and the fallen University Council come to mind, and right now he's no different. Mundane men say only the individual can change themselves, different men like Dyus would say that individuality is an illusion. What the does it mean, then?
The Hero doesn't even want to look into the answer, the fear is too great it's paralyzing.
He shakes his head and lounges in the comfy throne, letting the thoughts and fears of the future slip from his mind as best he can. The present is where he is to be. Let Azura and Jyggalag and slimy Mora worry about the future, time is just a perception anyways.
For now he'll be a good lord; See to the realm, sow prosperity and wealth, that sort of thing. But by the Nine is it so boring. Everyday someone whines about something tedious, everyday someone gets into mischief and goes on a rampage before being violently slaughtered by Mazken or Aureals depending on the side of the city.
This cycle repeats itself daily, non stop, that The Hero starts understanding why Daedra hate mortals so much. They're just so squishy and needy and stupid! Why, it's almost like they deserve to have their entrails ripped out, made into sausages and put back in again!
The Hero sighs, there he goes again letting his mind slip. Jyggalag's pondering really has merit, hasn't it? He's changed, but does it have to be so bad? Why does he have to sit here anyway?! What's stopping him from simply... going somewhere else for a while? Maybe all he needs is a classic vacation.
"Haskill!" He commands, his trusty Chamberlain turning to him with the same empty gaze as always, "Haskill, pack my bags! I'm going on a vacation!"
Parchment and Pen appear in the dutiful Chamberlain's hands, ready to write down his Lords commands , "And where should we expect you, your grace?"
The Lord thinks about it for a few seconds, "I have no bleeding idea!"
Edric and Emira blankly look over the scene before them. Both of their minds trying and failing to process the sight before them. Why is there dead butterflies and blocks of cheese everywhere?! Where's Amity gone?! Is she... is she the cheese now?! Or did she turn into the passed out homeless guy?! WHAT IS HAPPENING?!
Edric sneakily... sneaks over and pokes the weirdly dressed old man with his shoe. The man doesn't move and for a second they thinK he's dead, when suddenly the man snorts and groggily blinks himself awake. Slowly he himself into a kneeling position, groaning like a drunkard the whole time. Immediately the blight twins jump back into their combat position, both of them tracing half of a ring of blue light to form a full circle, ready to blast the strange man with their combined magic should he try anything.
"You're not our Mittens." Emira's voice is controlled and steady, highlighting her seriousness. Edric stands beside her with an equal expression of controlled anger, "Give our Mittens back. Now."
The stranger either can't hear the tension or ignores it, instead looking curiously at his hands for a moment before turning to the twins with a perplexed look on his face. The twins gasp at the sight of his eyes, their steely wills faltering and their ring of magic lessening in intensity. The stranger continues, oblivious to the growing fear and worry in the two before him.
"But I'm not wearing any mittens?"
The Hero often wonders why people try and kill/take him prisoner so often. He supposes he should count his blessings it's just a couple of teenagers that 'caught' him instead of something worse like a pack of Dremora or a gaggle of skeletons. He shudders at the thought, memories of armored skeletons in Ayleid ruins still haunts him to this day.
His thoughts escape him, however, as he should probably address his current predicament.
Bands of strange blue light binds his hands and feet while a thick central band pinches his arms to his sides. Overall it's an effective trap. Of course he could cast a strong dispel and get rid of it in a jiffy, but wise men know when to take advantage of a situation and turn it to their favor.
He waits patiently while his strange green-haired teen captors discuss something between themselves. The Hero can tell they're not exactly versed in holding someone hostage. They have their backs turned to him while they discuss something, only occasionally glancing back at him before returning to their hasty discussion.
Gods, Lachance would've eaten these two for brunch hours ago. Alas, he's not quite so... murder happy as his old family in the Brotherhood is. He can be patient and gather information while they practically hand it to him on a silver platter.
Obviously he's unexpected, given their reaction, and it's easily inferred that whomever this 'Mittens' character is they're supposed to be here instead of him. A botched summoning, maybe? Though how someone could (mostly) successfully summon the Lord of the Shivering Isles is beyond reason (of course it would be). Is it possible to summon him, even though he's not a Daedra (Is he though, like Umaril now?)?
Even as a master conjuror no one can just summon a Prince outside of Oblivion so easily. Not even a hundred thousand archmages could do it! You'd need hundreds of thousands of sacrificed souls to punch a hole between realms big enough for something minor like a Demiprince to come through and even then the Divines are certain to step in and force the rift shut before anything could really squeeze through.
They may be detached from the world's affairs most of the time, but the Divines take guarding the barriers of the realms very seriously. Only extremely specific circumstances can boot the Divines out of the way to destroy the liminal barriers of Nirn, Oblivion and Aetherius. Which means he's not on Nirn considering the lack of blood and bodies and angry gods everywhere.
Conclusion: The Hero is still in Oblivion somewhere. Which realm exactly he honestly cannot tell. None of the primary Daedric Realms have regular looking architecture, even the Shivering Isle's has a style reminiscent to Nirn but still recognizable as other worldly. The basement he's trapped in looks like something you would find in a High Rock nobleman's wine cellar, just dyed purple for some reason.
Quality wood trim, hand carved stone bricks, perfectly geometric room. The Hero feels like he's home back when he was just a lad so many years ago... Which is driving him insane! Nothing and he means nothing looks so normal in any realm of Oblivion! Where's the pits of lava and spiky towers?! The Giant Mushrooms and living trees?! The Arenas to fight to the death?! It doesn't make any sense at all!
The Hero simply groans and stops his train of thought before he gets too far lost in it. He's Lord Sheogorath now, of course a simple vacation would end up like this! He swears he can hear diabolical laughter in the back of his head. Which isn't too far out of the ordinary for him now. Oh well, these things happen.
...Where was he? Oh right, his woefully unprepared kidnappers. They're looking at him now, strange golden eyes seemingly glowing in the shadows covering their faces. He'll give them credit, it's a fairly intimidating illusion. He'll flatter them for a minute or two longer, just to see where they'll go with it.
"We'll give you one chance to-" "WHERE'S OUR SISTER!" The Hero and the girl twin both look at the boy who at least has the pride to look somewhat confident for all the three seconds it lasts before he flushes in embarrassment and looks away.
"Edric," The Twin girl hisses in sweet venom, "Next time please don't shout in my ear."
Oh boy, that's calm fury. Run boy while you still can.
Edric rubs the back of his head and whines, "But Em, he's got our sister! We don't have time, she could be in danger right now!"
Emira's eye twitches, her smile faltering causing Edric to flinch and holds his hands up while taking a step back. Not that the Hero could tell, but that same look of cold fury Emira dons is remarkably similar to the one their mother has when she's beyond pissed.
The Hero clears his throat and gets the attention of the two, "Well, If I may, Edric, Em,-"
"Emira."
"Right. Emira, Edric, while I don't know what you were trying to summon here, it certainly wasn't supposed to be me, and since you're missing someone I can guess the portal you opened to get me here likely swallowed the other as I went through. Like a swap. And if that's the case all we have to do is open the portal again, grab Mittens and close it as I go through. Simple as that."
The Green-haired twins exchange a quick glance with each other. "Yeah that's bullshit."
"Totally, we don't trust you at all."
The Hero Sighs. It looks like telling the truth won't get him out of this. Though when he puts a second of thought into it... isn't this what he wanted? A nice little getaway vacation? Sure, bondage isn't the best way to start a new adventure (though for some people it's the only way) and the apparent dimensional misplacing of a teenager across realms of existence might be considered in poor taste, but that was hardly his fault now. Obviously it was someone else, he was just packing his bag for a nice time on the beach somewhere!
Wait... where is his luggage?! He looks around frantically, hoping that at least somethings come through with him. He spots his bag and signature staff just behind the Twins in the shadows. Given that they haven't grabbed it they must not have seen it yet. Good. Losing the bag would be bad but if someone got their hands on his staff he would be in serious trouble!
Or maybe not. It's not like it was a difficult task creating it the first time. Now, how can he get out of this situation? Maybe just a handy little... distraction, yes?
Edric shuffles about and steps on a slice of Olroy cheese, sliding along the floor and nearly loosing his balance, "Ah! Dammit why is there cheese everywhere?!"
The Hero lets out a gasp followed by a piercing scream. The twins flinch, Emira takes a step back onto a hefty chunk of Eidar. Another feral cry and another step back before the twins realize what's causing the cries. They stop for a second before sly grins cross their faces. Edric grabs a particularly exquisite block of goat cheese and holds it with far too much force and holds it before The Hero.
He watches with bated breath as Edric absolutely ruins the rind. "No, stop!" The Hero bellows, "You're ruining it!"
Edric smiles with grim satifaction and crumbles the whole block in his hands. The once-hero wails as the art is ruined before his very eyes. Emira comes from the otherside, holding a delectable slice of bree. The hero positively quivers in fear.
"Ready to answer our questions now?"
"Answer of the cheese gets it!"
The Hero nearly snorts and blows his cover. Thankfully years of dealing with Breton aristocrats and imperial politicians has granted him a theater worthy skill in acting. Of course he's not bothered by the cheese. It's just cheese. It is, however, unbelievably hilarious to the Hero that the twins would think any man would be successfully threatened with the destruction of cheese.
Wait... scratch that. He does know people you could do that successfully with, and not all of them are from the Shivering Isle's. He happens to know more than one Breton merchant patriarch that would gladly burn down a village for damaging cheese.
"Okay... okay, I'll talk. Just please spare the cheese!"
"Good. That's what we want to hear. What's your name?"
"Bendu Olo." Technically not incorrect. Bendu Olo is one of many names the Hero of Kvatch goes by. It's his more 'mundane' name but still one nonetheless. It will be the one he goes by for the duration of his stay at... wherever in Oblivion he is.
Edric continues, "Who are you? Why did you come from that portal?"
"I have no idea about the portal," An honest answer. "As for who I am, well I'm just a simple adventurer looking for a nice vacation. One second I'm packing my bags and then poof! I'm here in place of someone else."
"Earlier you were talking about the portals like an expert... but you're human. Everyone knows humans can't do magic. How did you know about it?"
Bendu is slightly taken aback. Just what kind of elves are these that they believe humans are incabable of magic? "Well... I know humans generally don't make the same quality mages like the Mer do, but there's plenty of famous battlemages from the races of Men that were just as competent as say Mannimarco or Galerion. I think Shalidor might be the most popular mage of all time, and he was a Nord!"
Literally nothing Bendu said made any sort of sense to the twins. Humans doing magic? Well, they know Amity's not-yet-girfriend, Luz, can do magic, but she has to use these runes on papers. It's completely different from how Witches use magic originating from an organ attached to their heart.
Then again Witches know next to nothing about human, but the twins could've sworn Luz said humans don't have magic. That means then that this... guy is lying! Or maybe that Luz isn't really aware of everything about human capabilities. Entirely possible given she's kind of ditzy.
Her and Edric share a glance again. This time they can't quite come to a consensus. Here comes this stranger from some random demon portal talking about things that directly conflicts with their well established world views. Frankly, they just don't know what to do!
"Ed..."
"Em..."
She rubs the back of neck, this being one of the few times she's unsure about herself. "Ed. I think we need to go get mom. I don't... I don't think we've got this."
Bendu sighs. It's a touching moment. Positively gushy, like a cherry pie filling! But by the nine he just wants to go. To run around and see what this new plane of existence has to offer. And that can't happen while he's tied up in a basement being 'interrogated' by a couple of emotional teenagers.
"Ah, by the nine. Fine! You two were lovely company," Bendu waves his hand, casting a Dispel that immediately dissipates his magical bindings, "but I've got other places I want to be."
Before the two can cast a spell two orbs of Mute crash into their chests. They find themselves unable to cast any magic at all and completely caught off guard. Memories of having their magic stolen by a terrifying basilisk flashes in their minds. However instead of transforming into a monster to consume their flesh, Bendu simply brushes past them and gathers a small bag and a twisted wooden staff from the shadows.
"Oh relax," He calls out to the two cowering teens, "It's a simple Silence spell. It's not permanent. At least... I don't think it is? Ah oh well, I'm sure you'll figure it out. Ta ta!"
And like a gust of wind he's gone. Out the door and into the halls of their home. It takes the twins a few seconds before the realization hits like Slitherbeast. The stranger is running around their home. Like Bendu said the Twins feel their magic return after a few moments, and with that they're out the door after the invader of their home.
"Children." It's not the start of a conversation. More of a statement of rank. Like a commander addressing their grunts at Boot Camp. Only this commander is Odalia Blight, someone considered to be one of the scariest people of the Boiling Isles, and the grunts are her two eldest twins who would be quacking in their boots were it not for their extensive training in maintaining appearance. They're more like statues, completely still and expressionless.
Just the way any good children should be.
Odalia Blight sits down in her office chair, one of the few things she cares about in her life, and folds her hands neatly on her table, not even wincing when a small cinder floats down and burns a small bit of her skin.
Edric nearly passes out in fear right there.
The Mother Blight forsakes her faux smile and instead dons an unhappy frown. The twins know they're really fucked when their mother frowns. Here the three of them wait silently in the half smoldering ruins of the primary Blight Manor office. The windows are completely gone, glass shattered half inside and half outside. Three of the walls are completely missing and only a few blackened wooden beams are left supporting half of the ceiling that remains from the earlier explosion.
The twins wait patiently for several minutes, the entire time their mother maintains direct eye contact without blinking or saying or even doing anything. She's just... there. Staring at them.
A minute later one of the random, nameless servants scuttles in carrying a large bottle of red wine and a fancy glass to pair. Her apron is scorched and blackened and soot coats her hair and face. Emira barely holds back from wincing. The poor maid was closest to the blast when it happened, thank goodness that she was quick enough to cast a barrier that absorbed most of the damage. Unfortunately it wasn't enough to save her clothes from becoming smoldered.
Seriously, the blast that damned old man cast was like a volcanic eruption!
Odalia takes the items from the maid with... glee? Since when does Odalia Blight show emotion?!
"Thank you." The Blight Matriarch dismisses the servant and pours herself a large amount of wine and slams the whole glass back before filling it to the brim again. With sufficient alchemhol in her system, Odalia finally addresses her oh so mischievous twins.
"Now. Tell me the truth, if you would please. What in Titan's name happened?!" The last part comes out as a shout. Odalia inhales slowly and calms herself again. Another swig of the wine and she's back to her picture perfect appearance, "Please?"
Edric clears his throat and calmy takes a confident step forward. Emira watches with her breath held, wondering how the hell he plans to get them out of this.
"Okay. First thing I want to make clear; this was not our fault."
He yelps and ducks as half a bottle of wine goes flying over his head. Emira takes a frightened step back as their mother slams her hands down on her desk and screams, "Bullshit! You two cause so much property damage I have a separate account entirely to cover it!"
She rises from her seat and starts screaming over the top of her desk. For a split second the twins worry she'll crawl over it and strangle them. Thankfully, however, she instead stays behind her magnificent desk and screams in a banshee like voice, "You two are lucky I'm your mother, otherwise you would've been tossed in the Conformatorium years ago!"
They wouldn't, really. Despite what many would say, Odalia Blight would never let any of her family be carted off to that awful place, especially not her children (though her husband rides the line sometimes...). Thirteen hours of labor is way too long to let that happen!
Odalia snaps her fingers roughly a few times and another servant comes rushing with a new bottle of wine. The twins watch awkwardly as they wait for their continued chewing out.
Instead, to their surprise, after her drink the matriarch has gathered herself once again. Odalia rests her neatly folded hands on her desk and speaks for Edric to step forward.
"Edric. I am sorry. Sometimes you two... can push my buttons a little. Yes, that's the term. Regardless, I must know who is responsible. If this," She pauses to look over the damage to her home, "Individual you two speak of not only destroyed our home but also supposedly kidnapped your sister, they must be caught. And if we're to do that safely, we need facts. Your Father will be home soon with the Emperor's Enforcers. The more we knowledge we have ready for them the quicker they can be sent out to respond. Now please. Your story."
The Blight Twin clears his throat and continues his recanting of the stranger, "Okay. So we, Em and I, found Mittens in the basement getting ready for a summoning."
Odalia nods. Not that the twins can tell, but a sense of dread fills Odalia. Demonic summoning is a fickle art. Why in the world Amity would even try is she doesn't know. What she does know is that Amity has summoned something of trouble into the Isles...
Edric continues, "Um, we don't now how it happened or why, but the ritual circle exploded. Nothing violent or dangerous. But it blew us back and in place of Amity was this old... guy. White hair, white eyes and get this. Round ears. Like a human. But..."
He pauses. The fear of the old man still fresh in his mind. Emira places a hand on his shoulder and pulls him back and swaps places. Odalia gives her full attention as her daughter picks up where Edric left off.
"He has to be something else in disguise. Mother, he used honest to Titan magic. Strong magic! After he showed up we bound him with our magic but he got out no problem. No spell circle or anything. Magic just flew from his hands and for a good couple of seconds we couldn't do any magic! It wasn't like the basilisk though. These green orbs hit us and any magic we tried just fizzled out. A bit later we could do magic again but in that time he got out into the manor."
"We went after him," Edric continues, now next to his sister, "Maybe not the smartest but we were so worried!"
"He had Mittens! Or at least we thought he did..."
"He was crazy fast too, but he ran kinda weird. We tried all kinds of magic but they just bounced off of him! Then at some point he turned around and threw a little fire ball."
"It was really easy to dodge. It looked like something you would light a camp fire with, like something just to kinda move us out of the way. But it hit the back wall and, well, that was the explosion. It was smaller than a globe but it blew up like crazy! I've never seen an explosion so big!"
"He jumped out of a window but we didn't see where he went after. We were still stunned by the blast. And that's how we got here. Honest!"
Odalia closes her eyes, her mind thoroughly blown by the wild story her mischievous twins have conjured. A great part of her wants to scream at them and lock them in their rooms for months. To call them liars and make them work for years to pay off the damages. However another part of her believes them, the stronger part of her. Obviously somethings about the story don't add up.
Humans are incapable of magic. They lack the necessary organ to do so. Though from what she hears the only currently now human of the isles uses some strange runic magic in supplement to Witch magic no problem. Could this 'human' do the same? No, there's no way. This stranger came from a demon summoning ritual. Logically then this stranger is a demon assuming a human form. Why it would she has no reason, given however that it's no doubt a greater demon then trying to understand it with mortal logic is a folly.
The Blight Matriarch rises from her throne. Hands clasped behind her as she stares out the great big hole where her favorite window used to be. Her eyes are hardened, yet behind her careful and calculated mask an intense worry builds.
A horrible, awful no good demon has done something to her youngest daughter. If there's no body left behind then likely Amity has been drawn into some pocket dimension. Likely to be tortured and have her magic drained for all eternity.
Hey, no judging here. Every Witch has had a mishap here or there. Her mother had to get a new set of hands becuase the other ones detached themselves and ran off into the forest. It happens.
She will not, however, leave her favorite daughter to such a fate.
"What was Amity trying to summon? Did the ritual guide have any information about the type of demon?"
"Amity said she was summoning a daedra. That's all we know."
Odalia nearly faints in shock right there.