-Vvardenfell-
"The dead are quiet, brother."
The speaker, a young Dunmer woman with long black hair, the top back braided with small gemstones, dusky skin, and orange-red eyes named Talshaza Dralith. Talshaza is standing by their family's ancestral tomb. Her elder brother, Alvenniu stands nearby, he shares the same dusky skin and eyes, although his black hair is shorter and in a full braid. Alvenniu's eyes briefly move to his sister, before returning to the tomb. There is no need for words between the two in their sorrow. The dread necromancer's undead reached even the shores of Vvardenfell and many fell, including Talshaza, and Alvenniu's parents. Talshaza places her hand on the tomb's door, a very simple tomb, for theirs is a very small and simple house. "They only tried to protect us," Talshaza says quietly, remembering the horrific night when the dead surged upon their lands. Their parents had been simple Kwama farmers, and it had been expected that Alvenniu would take over, and Talshaza perhaps would marry into a larger house, unless she took to the farm as well. That had been simple plans, ones Talshaza had accepted. It seemed enough. But since her parents died, her eyes kept wandering towards distant horizons. Talshaza was doing her best to ignore the calling. This was her home, and all she had left was her brother. It was enough, it would continue to be enough, would it not?
-Vvardenfell, House of Dres-
"Tervven. TERVVEN."
A lanky Dunmer of 18 years with grey skin with a slight green tinge, a black mohawk, and bored crimson eyes looks up at his father from his position sprawled across a chair. "No need to yell Father, I am right here," Tervvan says with a yawn.
His father glowers at him. "Why are you inside instead of out there cataloging the new slaves as you were instructed?" Tervvan's father asks him in a sharp tone.
"The cats' smell. I do not want their stink on my clothes or their damn fur," Tervvan says. "Why can't we shave them?"
Tervvan's father's expression grows stormier and yet when he speaks it is with an eerily calm tone. "Is this how a proud son of House Dres acts, Tervvan? Time and time again you shriek your duties to lounge around the house as if you are a lazy cat, when your not out chasing females." Tervvan's father falls silent before he speaks again. "It is your duty to learn our family's trade, but you fail to understand responsibility. Therefore you will be sent outside the house with the Dres raiding parties."
Tervvan bolts straight up off the chair knocking over a small table in the process. "Father! I object to this! It is bad enough you expect me to get close to these disgusting things but now you want me to hunt the damn animals too?"
Tervvan's father folders his arms across his chest. "Perhaps this will teach you to be grateful you were born to high ranking family of House Dres, Tervvan."
Tervvan stews and glares at his father, hands clenched in fists. "I refuse, I utterly refuse!" Tervvan shouts.
"Then you will be disowned and cast from our house with nothing, Tervvan. Do you want to rethink your words?" Tervvan's father thunders.
Tervvan's glares at his Father before looking away in defeat. "Of course father. I will do as you instruct," Tervvan says stiffly.
Later on the ship sailing from Vvardenfell Tervvan stands looking out at the ocean from the side, hands clasped tightly on the rails. The whispers of the crew crawled under his skin like ants. They were laughing at him. At the Proud son of Donmis Retani being cast into temporary exile to get his hands dirty. "Damn you Father," Tervvan curses as the boat sails forth to take advantage of the chaos left by the mad Necromancer's war.
-Vvardenfell, small Telvanni settlement-
A small settlement on one of the islands encircling the main Telvanni has small farms for harvesting spell crafting ingredients. Khajiit and Argonian slaves work in the fields, save for one who has wandered to the docks and seems content with sitting and staring into the cool waters. One of the Telvanni overseers notices and stalks over him waving his fist. "Hey, hey you stupid fetcher. Get back to work!"
The Argonian's scales are a sickly green, his eyes are a dull pale orange color, and he's small and scrawny. As the yells penetrate the fog that seems to surround him the Argonian at last slowly moves his head to regard the Dunmer that is cursing at him. It is a sunny day and the Argonian can see fish in the water below. That is what he wants to do, but the Dunmer do more than yell and slowly the Argonian stands and moves back to the fields to settle in by a Khajiit female.
The Dunmer watches the Argonian go a disgusted look on his face. Another Dunmer dressed in Telvanni mage's clothes turns toward the first. "Alvmil, what is wrong with that slave?"
Alvmil shakes his head. "Slow in the head, Brevrela. Came from a bad batch of eggs the Dres sold me. Trust me, I took that to their house. The whole batch save for that thing died. Tainted with some foul swamp disease. The damn thing can not even swim, much less focus on tasks for more than a brief span of time without being prodded." Alvmil sighs. "At least he's too stupid to make trouble, and slaves are harder to come by nowadays. Can't even waste one, no matter how weak and worthless they are."
The Khajiit looks up at the Argonian and tisks at him. "Dull-To-Depth, you will anger them."
Dull-To-Depth glances at her then his eyes move to the plants. "Pick them?"
The Khajiit sighs as her paw moves to her head. "No! I have told you before, remove damaged leaves and bugs. It is not yet time to pick them."
Dull-To-Depth does as instructed and the day passes so very slowly.
At last, night falls and Dull-To-Depth cannot sleep so he wanders back to the docks. He knows he has been told to stay inside, but the night seems to whisper at him and so time and time again he has answered the call. The Dunmer used to punish him, but when it did no good and they saw he meant no harm and had no idea how to swim, much less have any desire to escape, they left him be.
The water is inky black and Dull-To-Depth stares into it, one claw tipping down to touch the waters. "Thoughts slip away," he says. Always like this. Thoughts are there one moment, then fade away. He can't even remember how to swim, even if his body would let him. It is instinctive for an Argonian, and yet it illudes him, as most everything does.
Slowly the water starts to ripple and a ghostly face appears in the water and Dull-To-Depth perks up. She has appeared for many nights now. She never speaks, just stares up at him with eerie eyes. Those eyes are the only ones who never look at him with pity, who never seem to regard him as if he is just a stupid beast, even if that's what he suspects he is. A sense of longing suddenly hits Dull-To-Depth and he speaks to the spirit for the first time. "Spirit in the water," Dull-To-Depth says. "Dull-To-Depth sees you." All of a sudden the eyes narrow in anger and Dull-To-Depth removes his claw in a hurry. Never has the eyes looked angry. "I made you angry. Don't go," Dull-To-Depth whispers.
At those words, she speaks for the first time. "Dull-To-Depth is not your true name, Argonian. Just as your current state of being is not your true state."
Confusion fills Dull-To-Depth. "But it's my name," Dull-To-Depth says. That part he understands. The second part, not so much.
"That name is degrading. I know your true name, your true state of being. Do you want truth, Argonian?" she whispers up to him. Confusion turns to fear and Dull-To-Depth's frail body starts to shake. The voice continues to speak to him, "You must want more. To think clearly. To be strong. Your current state is a sickly weak creature. But that is not the truth, my Argonian."
"What... is my name then?" Dull-To-Depth says as he continues to stare into the water, into the depths of the spirit.
She is silent for long moments before speaking again, "You are not yet ready for that. Not yet ready for a name that crawls and slithers as the venomous spiders and snakes crawl and slither."
"Those are scary," Dull-To-Depth whimpers. "My name cannot be scary. Scary!"
"You fear when you should be feared," she says to him.
Dull-To-Depth slowly lurches to his feet and starts to back away. This has gotten far too frightening and her words skitter at his mind like insects trying to burrow in.
The lady sighs softly. "No, you are not yet ready. In time you will be. On that day come to me, embrace me, and forget all that came before. I will give you your true name, your true state of being on that day."
Dull-To-Depth wants to run but something pauses him and he asks one final question. "W...who are you?"
"I am the spirit in the shade, the lady of decay, the Goddess of the dark. When you are ready, come to me, my Argonian."
That breaks the pause and Dull-To-Depth turns and runs as fast as he is able back to the slave quarters. The spirit now frightens him. But still...something skitters around his brain trying to break through.
-Artaeum-
In a small enclosed garden, two Psijic mage's are talking in hushed tones. "Fiion, is this the best place to keep him?" the first asks, a male Breton with short brown hair streaked with white.
The second mage, a lanky Altmer male with braided silver hair gestures with his hands. "He is safe here with us, Celnean."
"He still managed to run away already," Celnean says and with a distressed look on his face adds, "I... feel as though we are keeping one of our own against his will. It is not right."
Fiion raises an eyebrow, "We've had to do that very thing before."
"Circumstances were very different. Stratos Firn is not in league with a Daedric Prince nor is he trying to alter time. He's just..." Celnean trails off and turns his gaze toward the Psijic mage in question.
Stratos Firn sits cross-legged among the flowers, dressed in the typical Psijic order robes, though he has long since thrown off the boots and gloves. The Breton has short silver hair and intense blue eyes and his graceful hands flirt through the air at the butterflies that dart around them to land upon the flowers.
"His mind is broken, but he is still one of our order and a powerful mage," Fiion insists, "He is a danger to himself and others. It is our duty to watch over him and protect him from the outside world, and the outside world from him."
"A danger, truly?" Celnean argues. "All he was doing when we found him was playing in a pond naked. I do not see..." he trails off as Stratos Firn suddenly stops trying to catch butterflies and turns his gaze upon the two Psijic mages.
Stratos Firn rises from the flowers and his hand shoots out, grabbing ahold of one of the lovely butterflies. The butterfly sparkles and turns into an ebony-colored strange staff with heads screaming engraved on its top. With a wave of the staff Strato's Firn's robe turns into a cloud of butterflies that fly toward the two mages who dodge the butterflies. "He said I must show the world my glory!" Stratos Firn declares. "This is not the world."
"That..." Celnean trails off as he recognizes the staff and he raises his hands in a non threatening gesture. "Artaeum is a world, Stratos Firn. We'll...visit you so you can show all of your fellow mages your glory. Just settle down and perhaps put the staff away."
"Am I Stratos Firn? Or am I a naked Breton?" Stratos Firn says and then his eyes narrow as Fiion comes for the staff. Stratos Firn waves the staff again and Fiion is suddenly a very different creature indeed. A very large creature with white fur, claws, and fangs. A white bear of the northern plains. The bear roars and turns on Celnean who turns tail and runs, the bear in close pursuit. Stratos Firn laughs and waves the staff and a portal opens and he walks through...in all his naked glory.
-Vvardenfell - Molag Mar-
Stratos Firn walks out from the portal into a Buoyant Armiger's office. The three Buoyant Armiger's present start at the intrusion and then stare at Stratos Firn's state of undress in shock. Stratos Firn stares at them for a long moment then with a wave of the staff one of the Buoyant Armiger's striking blue tattoos vanish and reappear on Stratos Firn's naked body. "These will accent my glory!" he declares and then he opens a portal and is gone before the shocked Armiger's can react.
-Wayrest-
Stratos Firn appears in the streets of Wayrest and people start as he walks out of the portal. Slowly they back away and Stratos Firn looks around and waves the staff once more. A glowing blue orb appears and with his left hand, Stratos Firn weaves a complex magical symbol in the air. A small glowing blue and white portal opens and the orb vanishes inside. Stratos Firn closes it just as a guard approaches him and Stratos Firn turns to the guard and throws his arms open. "See my glory!"
The guard looks exasperated as he gestures to Stratos Firn. "Hand over the staff and come with me peacefully, PLEASE," The guard says.
"Why?" Stratos Firn said with a puzzled expression on his face.
The guard sighs. "Indecent exposure. Just...please come with me."
Stratos Firn starts to wave the staff again but instead of something happening, nothing does and the staff pops from existence. With a sad expression on his face, Stratos Firn tells the guard, "I only get a handful of charges at a time." And with that, Stratos Firn lets the guard lead him away. When they are halfway to the jailhouse, Stratos Firn abruptly says, "They just sleep. You must know that, of course."
The guard gives him a strange look and utters another sigh. "I am sure they do. Come along now."
Stratos Firn follows, though for a brief instant his eyes move to a stray dog chewing on a bone before he focuses back on the guard and their path ahead.
-Black Marsh-
A small head with small triple purple fins rises above the water, golden eyes staring at a glowing blue star that had descended from the heavens into the marsh. Slowly the young Argonian rises from the marsh, water dripping from her grey-blue scales. A claw reaches for the star. "I am Kal-Reiki," the Argonian introduces herself. "Who are you?" The glowing orb's only answer is to swirl around Kal-Reiki for a few moments before vanishing as fast as it arrived. Kal-Reiki blinks for a few long moments, deep in thought. "Not time yet," she says, though why she says it even she does not know.
"Kal-Reiko! Come play with us!"
Kal-Reiko turns to her two brothers, J'Ram-Lei and Teegiith. So playful, not as serious as she is. Kal-Reiko blinks slightly. "I wonder if our Egg-mother was serious or playful like them?" Kal-Reiko muses to herself. Egg-Mother had died before they hatched, and at times Kal-Reiko wondered. Sometimes she wished to ask their Egg-father, but the sadness in those eyes...something her brothers failed to see. She had to bite their tails on occasion to keep them from asking. So she would not have to see that deep sorrow in their Egg-father's eyes. Kal-Reiko hisses to herself and then waves to her brothers. Perhaps it would be best to play and act less seriously, for a moment. "Coming!" she cries as she dives back in the water and swims toward them.