"Jyggalag, unless you want to see our dear Dragonborn plead even more like a piked mammoth, then stop with the long strides."

A voice responded. Deep and thunderous like a storm, but oddly enough, it lacked the urgency of one. "Time moves quickly, Lord Sheogorath."

"I know. You've said it so much. My ears are shrinking."

"Then you understand we must make haste."

"Haste, haste. All you talk about is haste! Why not something more interesting? Like the blood dripping down our poor dragon girl's cheek."

"She will live."

"Or she might die. I did hit her hard."

Irina could feel the grip around her waist tighten. She kept her eyes closed and her breaths even.

"Lord Sheogorath, you realize the Secunda and Masser have almost turned full?"

"Of course, I have," Sheogorath replied. There was a bit of venom laced into a usual carefree speech. "I'm no idiot, Jygalagg. All I'm saying is it doesn't matter if we're on a 'tight schedule.' Stendarr can gnash his pretty teeth into dust. However, if the elf over here dies, we'll be dealing with more than just Stendarr."

There was a long stretch of silence. "Do what you must. Be quick."

"Thank you, dear Jygalagg."

Before Irina could even process it, she was laid on the ground. Her hair was parted near her temple, giving her such a dull ache that she had to bite her cheek to keep from groaning. She could hear Sheo let out a slight hiss.

"I think I nicked her harder than I thought."

"You should not have 'nicked' her at all."

"True, I'll admit. However, try being my height when a drugged-up sharp-toothed midget comes at you. I'd argue that she was even worse than a silverfish swimming in a lake of skooma."

"I would have to stop being a Daedra first."

"Oh, Jyggalag, are you ill? Your sphere is the absence of fun. Smart assery isn't allowed."

"Hush, Lord Sheogorath. Lest your mouth attracts even more creatures."

"Oh, if you want to bring up earlier, I wasn't talking at all. However, I do vividly recall some loud clanking. It could've been my ears getting old, though."

A small warmth lightly grazed over the cut on Irina's head. The pain lasted a moment as she felt the wound stitch itself back together. A slight shiver went down her back. The abilities of a Daedra were certainly nothing to turn your nose at.

Slowly, she opened her eyes and was greeted with the familiar darkness of Alduin's cave.

Irina sighed. At least I'm still alive.

"Did you have a good rest?" Sheogorath asked. Before Irina could open her mouth, she added. "Don't answer that; we've already wasted enough time as it is."

She pulled Irina to her feet. "This is the esteemed Jyggalag I was talking about earlier," Irina could see her yellow eyes turn towards something to her left. "Don't be shy, Jyggalag."

All Irina heard was clanking. It grew quieter and quieter as time wore on.

Noticing the awkward expression on her face, Sheogorath cooed. "Don't be sad, mortal. Jyggalag is like that with everyone. Well, besides me. He's just motionless then."

Irina turned to her. "Is he coming with us?"

"At his own insistence, it seems," Sheogorath said. She turned to go. "Come now. The sands of time move quickly."

Irina grabbed her arm. "Wait."

"Yes?"

"Before we go, I've a question."

"Oh?"

"That… stuff back there, what was it?"

Sheogorath clicked her tongue. The irritation was back in full force. "I said that this is all new when I first came to you."

"Yes, you did. But considering that the Divines and Daedra have had time to mingle over what to do, I assume that there has to be something you know about those rocks back there."

"I do know that it doesn't affect me. You, however, looked as though you had come straight out of a skooma den in Leyawiin."

"So it's weird magical moon sugar?"

"Skooma makes you dumb, not feral, at least in most cases. Whatever happened between you and those blue rocks made you go absolutely off your rocker."

Irina huffed. "I think that's downplaying it."

"Well, there's nothing I can say about it. It only affects mortals. How peculiar." Sheogorath said. "Of course, if you weren't a child of Auri-El, I would've thrown you over to Mora, and we could get this all dealt with, but ah well. Regretful." She turned around to walk, her pace just as fast as before. "Jyggalag should be two giant's legs in front of us now. Come! Before we lose him."

"And it starts again," Irina muttered, said a prayer, and then ran to catch up.

Sheogorath and Jyggalag fell into the comfortable routine of pretending that the other didn't exist.

There were a few moments that broke the silence, however. There was plenty of weird daedra littering the path, so Irina got to watch as Sheogorath and Jyggalag clumsily worked together. And by clumsily, she meant that she could've sworn that there were moments where they actively tried to kill each other.

Small and quick, such a too low sweep of a sword for a daedra that loved to float (which Jyggalag brushed up to rusty skills), or a 'wildfire spell that was clearly much too destructive for a lesser daedra and looked to go the completely opposite direction of left (which Sheogorath insisted was the intended direction).

These moments usually led to snide insults, such as "Such rusty swordsmanship surely must've come from your extended retirement! I'm so sorry, Jyggalag," and "Perhaps you should have brought along your chamberlain after all. Sanguine holds a steadier arm."

After one such battle, Irina began talking to the pair. Either out of boredom or an intense need for something more than just walking.

"What are the Divines doing?"

Sheogorath piped up. "Excuse me, mortal?"

"I find it a bit odd that two Daedric Princes are leading me through Aetherius and not a god or an avatar of a god," said Irina. "Y'know, this is their place and all. You'd think they'd be the ones doing all the business."

"You're a Mer. Surely you recall the tale of Shor—"

"Lorkhan," Jyggalag interrupted.

"Lorkhan, yes, Lorkhan. Excuse my language Jyggalag. Anyway, it's paranoia. A long, long time ago, Lorkahn played them like a lyre. Anger, death, and now all Aedra are weakened. It's the same reason they don't waltz out in public, unlike us Princes do."

"But isn't that not a problem in Aetherius?" Irina asked. "They lack a physical body on Nirn, but Aetherius should be good for them."

"It is suspicion," said Jyggalg. "The Aedra are more fragile in form."

A small 'tsk' came from the Mad God. "Yes, because the Divines are weak in a place where magic is practically pouring out of the dirt. It's paranoia. No one wants to trip and end up like ole' Lorkhan." said Sheogorath.

"You are young, Lord Sheogorath."

"Technically, I'm as old as you, Jygglag. In some roundabout ways, even older."

"But you did not bear witness to the war, only the result," there was not even the slightest inflection to his voice, but it held severity. "You did not see the pandemonium such a war held."

A laugh came from Sheogorath, loud and wild. "Pandamonium? Would I have been scared by such a thing, Jyggalag?"

"I cannot answer such a foolish question, for you already hold such an answer. It was much more than a drama. Lorkahn was lost. The current Divines do not wish to mirror such a tragedy."

"Tragedy, hm? I find tragedies to be entertaining, if not repetitive."

"That is the danger of it, Lord Sheogorath."

"What a dull danger that is, Jyggalag."

Irina followed behind quietly, silently noting that even small conversation led to thinly veiled arguments. She then vowed to follow the example of the pair in front of her and shut up for the rest of the trip.

Time passed at the pace of a tortoise. The monster only increased in ferocity and bite as they trudged down in the dark. Irina gained a couple of new scars from talons and teeth, all of which Sheogorath quickly tended to— of course, not without complaint.

However, as the danger grew, so did the pockets of peace. The lack of fighting left Irina time to think. By the eight, she really hated those times.

In all honesty, Irina missed Sheogorath's small quips. Call it the trauma from earlier, or the fact that the air around them was so thick that one could cut it and serve it on a platter, there was a slight sense of worry left within the depths of her heart. One that only intensified with each step taken on the road.

Another monster fell with a heavy thud, killed by Irina, who'd stabbed it in the chest with the dagger she kept fastened to her thigh. Some small grooming and then the trio were once again off. This pocket of silence was much longer than the others.

There was a chill on her spine. Eyes. She was being watched.

A straggler, Irina thought. She gripped the handle of her dagger tighter. Something was off about it. The monsters here were mindless beasts that attacked at the slightest sound. That's a bit odd.

All that could be heard was metal clanking and tapping against stone.

"There's no one else here, right?" Irina asked.

"No," Jyggalag replied.

"Do you not feel anything?"

"Mortal, there should be no more blue rocks around here," said Sheogorath. "I think you're simply losing it."

Irina bit her lip. "I don't think that's the case."

"Most people don't."

"That's pleasant to think about," Irina replied but said nothing more.

Humming started to sound throughout the quiet. Sheogorath, Irina thought and listened with half-lidded eyes, slowly absorbing the tune. A soft lullaby with a wordless, slow rhythm that shook on the longer parts.

"Jyggalag?"

"Yes?"

"You are sure?"

"You question me?"

"That's what you do when you 'ask,' dear Jyggalag."

"I walked down this pathway earlier, Lord Sheogorath. Not another creature followed my steps."

"How much earlier?"

"Lord Sheogorath-"

A small 'tsk' came from the Daedra's mouth. "Fine, I sew my lips."

Tree leaves rustle with just the slightest touch of Kyne's wind, and on her sails, they carry the smell of summer rain. Little children, big and small, loved to touch fallen branches, even though it was forbidden. Broken limbs bring forth Lorkhan, and he'll take you up to the sky to the moons. Never to be seen again.

"Ge, this isn't you. Don't be so stupid. Do you even know these people?"

Should I have left that day?

"Lord Sheogorath?"

"Oh, so now you ask questions? Yes, Jyggalag?"

"Are you…" he stopped, finding something quite foolish in his following words. "Nevermind."

"You've truly nothing to say?"

"You wish for me to say something?"

Sheogorath clicked her tongue. "No, I expected nothing at all."

Soft, yet gravely and stern. She did it when she was covered in flour amid cooking; the scent of sweets and leather from her morning job wafted through the air. Her hair, usually the shade of charcoal, was now stained white, despite her best efforts to keep the flour from getting to it.

Yes, Irina remembered warm sunlight and houses sung into being. She had lived in one. She remembers the woman who dressed in long robes and loose pants. Who braided her hair in such an elaborate way that it made all the other women jealous in their small section of the nabe. Like a ghost, she slept in the back of her mind and took rest, splattered in a red much deeper shade than the ribbon she tied her hair with.

Anger and fury, she was coated in it. "Do you think the guards will think the same? Your teachers? Irina, leave them. Leave and come home."

She pushed her handoff. It was a yank, most definitely a yank. She stumbled; her face looked pale. She'd never seen her frightened; no Pholeri was stone. She is a statue. Statues don't care, but they do look at you. Look down upon you.

Irina yelled something back. Harsh.

"He doesn't care about you! None of them do! Goddammit, Irina, they're using you!"

She didn't care much about her at that time. She wanted to wound her, to make her feel what she'd felt. So she barked out something worse than harsh. She barked out sewage. Pholeri paused.

"Is that what they told you?" She was silent for a moment more. "You're so stupid."

Irina stopped dead in her tracks.

Oh shit.

"Sheogorath," she said, forgetting her station. Anger and fear had swept over her like a raging tide. "You told me that there would be no more-" But she was cut off before she could finish the sentence because Sheogorath interrupted her with a mouth full of malice.

"Jyggalag, I know we've our differences, I really do, but I thought you weren't so stupid as to do something like this."

"I shall say the same to you," Jyggalg said. Irina could hear his metallic feet clank as he walked to where she assumed Shegorath stood. "Cast down the illusion."

Sheogorath scoffed. "You accuse me?" She said, her voice raised with each word that passed her lips. "An illusion? What illusion am I casting, Jyggalag? When it is I who hears voices of the past right now!"

Irina slapped her head. The voice laughed. It laughed with Pholeri's voice.

"Irina, you're smarter than that. A dun ni man empa viran ba de bala av cahoth. Do you understand what I say, mil ge? Do you cast my image out of your mind?"

Irina looked around frantically for anything blue. There was nothing in sight. Literally.

"Your lies are quick."

"I tell no lies!" Sheogorath shouted with such fury it resounded throughout the whole cavern.

"Then what is this?"

"What do you look for, Irina? Poor Irina. Buroth va chasca ae adai. Ni wish heca, em the kemen bura ni. Did I teach you nothing? Ni Lorkahn."

"Oh, Jyggalag, your brain must be infested with wild skeevers. It takes no Xarxes to know I wouldn't turn my own head to mush."

Irina cursed her eyes. There had to be something she was missing. She couldn't see.

"And how am I to see that this is not one of your tricks?"

"Hear me, Jyggalag, if this were one of my' tricks,' you would be on the stone forsaking your sphere by screeching in agony."

"Molag, mori ge, molag stettai fey lyei ae valendrai a vasha, graxifalas wen man hale chasca's cey. Ni adamat, Irina? Imso Irina, a amanye ni adma-"

Well, fuck her fear of Daedra.

"If I may interject," Irina yelled. She couldn't see them, but she could damn sure feel their heads turn to face her. "This isn't Sheogorath's doing."

"Look, Jyggalag! Common sense! Something you lack."

Jyggalag ignored her. "And your defense?"

"You're on the same team. Currently," Irina said. "And something similar occurred earlier. The blue rocks come to mind."

"Ah, yes! The skooma gems," Sheogorath said.

"They do not have an effect on us, Daedra. And if they did, surely they would've corrupted us earlier."

"It technically doesn't have to be the rocks," the theory she had was wild and far, far reach. But Irina was willing to throw anything. "Lord Sheogorath, who do you hear?"

Sheogorath was quiet for a minute. She responded. "Tamlyn Rend mocking me."

"That is unlike you," said Jygglag.

"We're not conjoined at the mind anymore, Jyggalag. He was annoying, really annoying. Slapped me in my face with my own wand. It was embarrassing."

"Would you say he stood out?"

"Mortal, what did I just say?"

"Okay, that was a dumb question," Irina said. "Lord Jygglag, what about you?"

"All of Lord Sheogorath's incarnations—"

"Oh, Jyggalag, how sweet."

"Squawking like parrots at the same time about my lack of a realm and my library," Jygglag spat.

"It's still nice I'm on your mind, Jyggalag."

"Much like how the Dumner is constantly on yours?"

"I take back what I said."

Irina interjected. Half paying attention to what the pair were bickering about and half into her theory. "This isn't similar to the blue rocks. Those weren't clear and telligible like this is."

"That could be an effect of quantity," Jygglag said.

"But the rocks didn't manipulate memory. There's was more of a call." Irina retorted. "This is something else."

Jyggalag went quiet.

"I think the Dragonborn is right," said Sheogorath. Her voice was tense, "This—"

"This is a dire situation."

"Well, that's a bit more extravagant than what I was gonna say, but I agree."

Shuffling came from Jyggalag. Irina could tell by the path of his footsteps that he was searching for something. "Do you observe anything peculiar?"

"I can't exactly see much."

Sheogoath perked up. "I can, and all I spy is rock."

"I have come to the same judgment. The voice doesn't have to do with the contamination of the cave."

The eerie feeling from earlier struck Irina. "It's probably something inside the cave."

"That's all well and good— just find it and kill it. Dealing with even stronger blue stuff would be tiresome." Sheogoath replied. "We'd have to dig it out with shovels or fingers."

A small shiver went down the elf's spine. "Potema was similar."

"Oh, well, then I'd much rather the enhanced skooma gems."

"Sorry to be the bearer of bad news."

"A mere creature being able to manipulate a Prince," said Jygglag. Something almost akin to awe sparked in that robotic voice.

"Yes, it's not exactly pleasing to the ear, is it?."

"We shall continue down further."

"Oh, how great! Because a creature that can peer into the head of a Daedric Prince is obviously something I wish to meet. Shall we invite them out for stew while we're at it?"

"Lord Sheogorath," Jyggalag warned.

"You know, Jyggy, the only way to deal with a particularly tense situation is humor. Aren't I right, Dragonborn?"

Irina had dissociated from the conversation. She was trying to dig up a memory that would be so vile that even a mind-reading creature wouldn't touch it. Sheogorath interrupted that effort.

"Huh?"

"See? Even the elf agrees, and she's been through the wringer." Met with Jyggalg's silence, she sighed and conceded. "Fine, I won't speak until we find the damn thing."

"I thank you, Lord Sheogorath."

"You're welcome, dear Jyggalag."

"Auri-el, please give me strength." Irina prayed.

"Stab to your right, please."

Irina plunged her dagger into the darkness on her right. The blade whisked through the air until it hit the surface of a slimy texture to where it stabbed into its chest. A shriek of pain and then silence

"Is that all of them?" Irina asked.

"Stab to your right, please."

Irina plunged her dagger into the darkness on her right. The blade whisked through the air until it hit the surface of a slimy texture to where it plunged into its chest. A shriek of pain and then silence

"Is that all of 'em?" Irina asked.

"All that are around you," Sheogorath said. A burst of orange lit up the cavern, and soon the wails of death of dozens of the creatures could be heard. All were silenced in flame. "Jyggalag, how's it going over there?"

"Cleared." said Jyggalag.

"Good," Sheogorath replied. Irina could make out the small change from a smile to a frown on the Daedra's lips from the light of the flame. "It seems that the speaker hides their tail well. How horrid for us."

"Games of hide and seek are futile, Irina," mocked the voice. The elf grimaced.

"Better yet, it's aware."

"What a fruitless effort," said Jyggalag.

"It's not exactly fruitless if we can not catch even a cat's tail of the thing. At that point, I would start mocking me too."

"You venerate such a thing?"

"In the same way, a slow-witted guard would venerate a killer of the same intellect, just a tinsy bit quicker with a knife." The fire revealed her bright eyes to be wide, akin to a sabrecat. "Ever since the little thing has been yapping off in my mind, I've been thinking about recipes to take its tongue and make sausage with it. It's just some momentary applause, is all."

"What a nice image."

"I do try my best," Sheogorath clapped her hands. "Now, there is only one more stretch, and certainly, we shall find our mystery creature somewhere along the path. Be on your guard."

Irina nodded, knowing the Daedra could see it. She then began her routine of following through sound. Though, after five minutes or so, something unusual occurred.

With every step on the path, the darkness decreased. What was once pitch was becoming akin to seeing in a torchless Dwemer ruin, with only the old faint light of whirring machines as a guide. Irina marveled at the spiked stagnate poking out of the ground like teeth. There was a feeling of desolation and warning, brought forth by the red glow of crystal that sparsely littered the cavern. For all the gloom and doom, it was very spacious. Some golden flakes glowed dimly between black spirals, fit for a dragon who constantly bragged of being "Akatosh's firstborn.'

Sheogorath walked in front of her not too far ahead. Next to her, at a vast distance, stood another figure. "Jagged" was the word that popped into Irina's mind as she saw him. He completely dwarfed Sheogorath. His gait was like that of a waking centurion; by Zenithar's grace, she would've mistaken him for one had she not caught a glimpse of an equally hulking sword strapped snugly to his back. Though she could only make out his form, she could see what Sheogorath meant when she claimed they were "polar opposites."

They had walked another hour when Irina again felt the pair in front of her make a complete stop. Irina looked in front of them. There she could see a crossroads with two identical paths. Sheogorath tilted her head.

"I don't remember this." She commented. "Have you been renovating Jyggalag? Quite rude when you don't live here."

"No." Jyggalag responded.

"Well then, this is quite the obstacle. What was one split into two," a small giggle echoed through the cave lightly. "Brings back memories, doesn't it?"

Ignoring her snide remark, Jyggalag forward to the point of intersection. He looked around slowly. Both caves had the same faint green light emanating from some area at the end of their paths, with sharp rocks encircling the narrow space in between.

"Is it Illusion magic, perhaps?" asked Irina. She didn't care much to go forward to answer her question. The whole situation felt off.

Sheogorath kneeled down and picked up two stray pebbles off the cave floor. She handed one to Irina, which the elf took. "We shall see. You throw to the left and I to the right."

Irina nodded. She waited for the daedra to wind up her arm before taking a similar stance facing the left pathway. As she met the tunnel, she observed just how endless it seemed to be. There was a glimmer of light, but that light looked to be merely a veil to cover up the darkness shielded behind it.

Foreboding crept up on her like a snake. She shook her head to brush it off.

The stones flew through the air, and Irina watched as hers crossed the threshold that separated the vast room they were in into the narrowness of the path. It didn't hit the stone; it didn't disappear. It connected with the ground beneath and bounced once before settling on top of it. As would be the case with any stone thrown anywhere else.

Before she could face Sheogorath, Irina heard Jyagglag's judgment.

"It has altered the physical environment."

Irina looked over to the left pathway to see that Sheogorath's stone had ended up in the result. Fuck.

"Well, that's not a staunch realization to come to Jyggalag. Even Malacath could see that," replied Sheogorath. Her expression turned grim. "Though, this doesn't do much for the nerves."

Irina looked at the pathways. "What happens if we go down the wrong one?"

"I can't say. It depends on the caster's mind. Shall we end up walking till the flesh of our feet mends? Will we fall face-first into the depths of Auri's realm? So many choices, but no way to know until we do."

"Should we split up?"

"If you disappear, there's no doubt that Auri-el will try to use my bones to make broth. If one of us Princes do, then my friends won't rest easy until they know how and why. And I don't think snooping will go over well with the Divines."

She gave a quick look to Sheogorath and then returned it to the pathways. There was something she could try— she just wasn't sure if it would work. If there was anything that her one day at the College taught her, magic was finicky— really finicky. It doesn't exactly adapt to change.

She let out a long sigh. But there isn't really any other option, is there?

The voice, ever the persistent, began speaking again in a snooty little mockery.

"Asma empa cormix, Irina? A dima fey broken horst, ostas as ni naga. Ry ni fualst. Ry ni fihalent."

Irina smacked her head. "Your aldmeris sucks, you annoying sassi. I've rauba raena."

Throughout her journeys in Skyrim, Irina had learned all sorts of neat tricks. One being how to tie a cherry with your tongue, and another being how to walk coatless in a snowstorm without catching frostbite. However, the neatest of tricks had to be dragon shouts.

When Edelweiss dragged her over to Volunruud to find some lost treasure, she had begun learning the words to a really neat shout that helped her steal the Goldenglow bill of sale right from under the noses of Aringoth's hired men. And because Edelweiss loved to run errands, and Irina loved gold, she had learned all the words to this shout.

She said the three words to her favorite shout with one breath.

"Lass Yah Nir,"

In a moment, she had become one with the cave walls, her reach endless. Every little thing, breathing or not, was under her watch. She observed the energies of Jyggalag, Sheogorath, and herself sitting idly within the room. Her spirit moved to inspect the narrow tunnel to the left, peering through the black of the hall, and she saw— nothing. It was as endless as the shadow.

She then observed the tunnel to the right, and down a few feet, she could watch a hulking mass of energy surrounded by much smaller ones. It didn't move.

Fulfilling its promise, I see, Irina thought. Something was off about it. Something really, really familiar. Disturbingly familiar.

That odd shape had dominated her nightmares when she was a young girl. The bulging sack, much too big for its small front, was adorned with thin hairs. A lot like its thick six legs that crept around at such a quick speed, you wouldn't really think that the thing was bigger than a roach. If the Divines were merciful, it wouldn't.

Is that a … giant hoarvor?

The shout wore off, and Irina came back to her original body. Her previous bewilderment showed on her face like a slap mark. Sheogorath, noticing something was off, looked at her inquisitively.

"Mortal, are you alright?"

Irina looked at her, looked down the right path, at the gods, and then back at Sheogorath. "The thing we're fighting is a fucking oversized insect," she said. "Oh, and the right way is the right path."

"Truly?" said Jyggalag. Sheograth gave him a look, but Jyggalag was never one to pay attention to Sheogorath's opinion. Unless it was stupid.

"Shouting works very well here. Better than in Sovngarde, in my opinion. Guess that's to be expected." Irina said as she unsheathed her bow. "There are none on the way itself, but there are many inside the place I assume the portal is," she began heading towards the right path. Quick and lithe. She was eager to get 'there' and get out. "Let's not waste time, yes?"

And then Irina was off. Jygglag took out his greatsword and marched behind, not a single question asked. The only one left was Sheogorath. For one few times in her long life, she was muddled.

"You know, I thought you would be something more intimidating," Sheogorath said. She spoke to the cavern. "Like a giant Dagon naked, or… no, there's really nothing scarier than that."

She picked up her skirts, as a good lady should, and hurried to catch up to the group.

The pathway was long and winding, but for once, Irina didn't feel tired. Exhilaration and adrenaline sparked at every nerve within her. All of this came from one singular thought.

I'm finally getting out of this fucking tunnel.

Nothing could really deter her now. Not even the voice in her head.

Finally, the trio had come upon a great drop within the cave. Irina looked down into it; it looked back. It was quite literally the abyss.

"This is it," Sheogorath said. "This drop, and we're there."

Jygglag straightened himself out. "Ready yourselves."

"Oh, I am always ready, dear Jyggalag. What about you, mortal?"

"Ready," Irina said. She gave a prayer to Y'ffre and gripped the handle of Auri-el's bow tighter. "Do we teleport down there?"

Just as she said that Jyggalag rushed forward, nearly knocking Irina down. With a leap, he twisted his body so that his sword would pierce the ground. He soon fell out of view.

Irina stared at Sheogorath; Sheogorath stared back at her. The Mad God smiled smugly.

"Don't tell me—"

"Daedric teleportation doesn't work here, mortal. Auri-el decreed it so," she said. Before Irina could react, the Mad God dashed over, bear-hugged her, and then slugged her over her shoulder. All in one smooth motion.

"Please don't."

"It'll be quick. Just close your eyes and pretend you're riding on a dragon. Or falling on one would be more accurate."

"Neither bring comfort."

"Then scream. I won't tear your tongue out."

The Mad God began walking towards the drop quickly. Irina struggled hard, but nothing could budge the Daedra's iron grip. Finally, they reached the edge.

"Sheogorath—"

"Hold on tight! But do be mindful of the silk. It's more expensive than your firstborn child."

"By the eight!"

"Here we go!"

With one giant leap, Sheogorath and Irina jumped down feet first into the abyss.

All either heard was the shrill scream of the Bosmer.

She gripped anything she could, which was a combination of Sheogorath's dress, hair, and Irina's own bow. There wasn't a damn thing to be seen, but she could feel the wind slap her in her face.

She really wanted to cry.

She was knocked right in the gut as soon as the Mad God landed, and by the gods, it was hard. Everything came up from the past week. Sheogorath let out a revolted sigh.

"At least you didn't get it on the dress," she said. She looked down sadly at her shoes.

"I didn't exactly have a choice."

Two yellow eyes landed on her. "Hm?"

"Nothing."

She twisted her head to get a better angle to pick herself up off of the ground. Eight dead eyes stared back at her.

To say she yelped would be an understatement.

It was then that she heard the sounds of fighting. She jumped up just in time to see a gray creature dive in for Sheogorath's head. The Mad God put it alight in one swift movement of her finger.

"No tact at all."

"The big creature should be here," Irina said. Sheogorath moved her gaze to the right.

"You're talking about the hoarvor right there?"

Irina whipped her head around to see the bug that governed over every paranoia she'd ever had for years. It used one of its six huge legs to try and stomp Jyggalag, who was busy fighting off a topless floating man, which had spider legs on his back which he used he stab at the Prince. Feeling something off, the knight dove out of the way. The limb connected with the cave floor, a crater left behind by the impact.

Behind the creature lay a long cut suspended in air (as that was the best way to describe it) which glowed with a green light.

Our way into 'Somewhere.'

Irina positioned her bow and drew an arrow. Her eyes locked onto the glassy eyes of the hoarvor. She pulled the string taut, having found her target. A breath. Then she fired. Light exploded from the connection. The monster let out a hoarse cry, louder than a wispmother. Irina covered her ears desperately.

Sheogorath put a hand on her shoulder. "Are you alright, mortal?"

Irina nodded. She tried not to let her dizziness from the scream show. "I'm fine. I'll shoot from here," Irina said. "Go help Lord Jyggalag."

"Giving orders to a Prince. How brazen!"

"I didn't—"

"I take no offense, mortal. I shall do as you say."

Sheogorath bolted over to the fighting. A group of creatures, who'd noticed her entrance into the fight, dove for her. A laugh came, then a snap. Soon there was screaming and flame. The Mad God began fighting with a ferocity Irina had never seen from a warrior.

Whoosh

Irina looked back to see the hoarvor spew blood from its gaping mouth. Jyggalag jumped onto a rock, pulling Sheogorath up with him. Irina followed suit, nearly missing the bloodstream by a Khajiit's hair. The creatures weren't so lucky. Dozens burned within the flood. The few who floated survived.

"Shit," Irina muttered. Another arrow flew from her bow and landed in the creature's other eye. It screamed louder. Irina clasped her head and bit down on the meat of her inner cheek. She tasted copper.

"Mori ge! Don't do this! Not again!"

"Shut up!" Irina yelled. She fired another arrow, this time aiming for the sack. Sheogorath took up an assault on the floating creatures while Jyggalag leaped from the rock and jumped onto its head, digging his sword in the hard carcass.

"Have mercy, Irina! I taught you—"

"Nothing! You taught me nothing," Another arrow landed on its third eye. It stumbled for balance, crashing into the cave walls.

"Mori. Mori wen!" The creature laughed in her mind. "You fear her gaze, don't you. You despise that pit feeling you get when you think about her awakening. You hate the prospect."

She banged the side of her head. "Shut up!"

"I tell the truth. You despise the truth. Always running, do you have nothing more to do? 'I'll be better.' How foolish you are."

"Oh, Jyggalag! You're moving pretty slow with the stabbing."

"Hush, Lord Sheogoath."

"Just saying you could be moving a lot faster—"

"Hush!"

"You are a rat, Irina. Nothing more than a rat who happened to chance upon gold. You hate Alduin? The true thing you hate is your reflection."

Irina picked another arrow out of her holster. She drew the string taut and waited.

The creature knocked Jyggalag straight in his chest, sending the Prince flying. Jyggalag twisted his body in the air, using the momentum to crash into the cave walls and push against them. He flew across the space. The creature opened its mouth wide to swallow him whole.

Irina fired.

The arrow soared across the room. With every moment, the light at the tip grew and grew until the arrow itself became an avatar of the sun itself. The creature didn't get to swallow Jyggalag.

It moved erratically as the arrow burned a tunnel through its body. Jyggalag landed on its back. The greatsword pointed towards the sky— the creature gave one final desperate scream.

Whoosh

Silence.

Irina dropped to her knees. She felt as though she would pass out, but before she did, she felt a warm aura on her body. She turned her gaze to see Sheogorath walking up to her. The light of the healing spell dissipated from her hands.

"How are you feeling, mortal?"

Irina looked her up and down and shrugged. She really couldn't be bothered to respond at the moment.

"I see," Sheogorath said. "Jyggalag, is it dead?"

"It moves no more."

"Good. And that annoying voice is gone too. What a nasty little thing."

Irina looked across the room. She got up from her kneeling and pointed toward the cut.

"Is that our portal?"

"It sure is. Tiny, isn't it?" Sheogorath commented. She then looked to Jyggalag. "Are you coming?"

The knight shook his head. At least he tried to. "I shall stay here and observe it. We shall send word to Auri-El to have one of his children guard it after you deliver the Dragonborn."

"You'd think Auri would have had half of his brain matter to do that anyways. Daedra fighting in Aetherius. I think we've violated some sort of code, Jyggalg."

"There is no code to violate Lord Sheogorath."

"You say that. But I have an inkling that Auri isn't going to be too happy to hear we were throwing down in his realm," she turned to Irina. "Shall we get going?"

The bosmer nodded. "I suppose I'm as ready as I'll ever be. This isn't the best introduction."

"Good thing is you won't be staying there long. At least not in the green part." Irina looked at her inquisitively. Sheogorath smiled. "You'll see when you get there."

The two walked up to the portal, and Irina marveled at the green light. It was brighter than the sun. More dangerous than that as well.

Doom-driven. Yeah, I suppose Paarthunax was right. Doom-driven and stupid.

"After you, mortal."

Irina clutched her bag, reaching around and straightening out the staff attached to the back. She took a breath and looked at the world behind her one last time.

She stepped through.