Alright. This was it.
Witchmist Grove. The… 'witchy grove'.
Right after Bishop left Ysolda's house and found the ring, he got out of Whiterun as fast as he could. He didn't want to risk anything and, as tired as he was, he didn't stop until he was out of Whiterun Hold, heading towards the Rift.
That was where he was supposed to go, right? Where his 'perfect girl' was waiting for him in a cottage. He had assumed that it was his cottage, but that didn't seem to be the case. According to what that girl in Riverwood had said, he was supposed to go to some grove.
He made camp outside Whiterun Hold to get some shut eye. It wasn't really a camp. He had no bedroll, no food, no water and he didn't even have a flint. He managed to catch a rabbit with his hunting knife and made fire the old-fashioned way – with rocks. At least he could eat. It was so fucking bland without his spices – he got so spoiled about food. But it was food. And there was the river nearby, so he had water too. He just had to sleep in the grass.
The next day, he stopped some hunters on the way to ask about this 'witchy grove'. They speculated for a while, but they came up with this place.
It checked out. It was called 'Witchmist Grove', apparently, and it was north of Riften. It was in Eastmarch, sure, but still, north was north. This had to be it. Not only did the name and shit fit, but there was an actual cottage there.
It looked nothing like his cottage. It was old and shabby and kind of creepy. It even had fucking spikes all around it like some ridiculous battlements. It definitely didn't look like a place that Aeyrin would voluntarily be in.
But weirder shit had happened during his delirium. Anything was possible at this point.
He just wanted to find her already. Even if she didn't know what happened to either of them after Rorikstead, he just wanted to be with her again and figure this shit out together.
Fuck, he really hoped that he hadn't fucked up the proposal. But that was unlikely, since he didn't have the ring the whole time. Or at least a lot of the time, probably. He hoped so.
He just couldn't figure out what it was with this place. Why would Aeyrin be waiting for him here?
Well, he wouldn't figure it out just standing here.
He walked past the spikes, through the eerie mist gathered around the place and into the creepy cabin. There were some strange sounds coming out of that place. Like some crunching. What was that?
He didn't pay it much mind though, he swung the shabby door open, eager to see Aeyrin at last.
"Princess?"
He barely managed to look around the one small room when the noises stopped. His eyes laid on the culprit in an instant – there was no princess. There was a wrinkly monstrous face staring at him in shock instead.
A hagraven.
Fuck!
That thing reacted quickly. Its hands lit up with fiery blaze in a matter of a second and it shot a ball of flame at him.
Bishop jumped out of the way, but only barely. He felt searing heat envelop his arm – the wounded one – and he barely managed to register that, while his leather armor withstood it with only some damage, his cloth arm-sling caught aflame instantly.
He didn't have much time to act. He instantly dropped to the ground and rolled around, attempting to douse the flames. He was done in no time, but his sling was in charred tatters and it practically fell apart right away.
No matter. He had bigger problems now. Bigger than a missing sling. His arm was at least still a little numb, but the pain was palpable despite that. And he had no potions to numb it more now. But he still had a hagraven to deal with.
By the time he managed to jump up on his feet, without one of his arms to use for balance, the creature was already gearing for another attack. There was no room to maneuver, no time to waste. He lunged.
He didn't even have his knife out. But before the hagraven managed to cast another spell, he tackled it to the ground. He began punching its face instantly with his hale hand, on and on as blood sputtered from the beast's maw. When it was sufficiently dazed, he finally reached for his knife and slit the thing's throat with one swift motion.
Fuck. It was done.
His breathing was heavy and his arm was fucking killing him as it continued to burn in excruciating pain, but it was done.
When the haze of battle lifted from him and he managed to gather himself a bit, he took a stock of the room. He was terrified when he noted the gnawed bloody bones on the ground. He instantly worried that they were Aeyrin's, but there were no other signs of her.
And before he could investigate further, he noticed a prominent writing on the wall.
It was clearly smeared there with blood – a message.
For him.
.
Find your real bride in Morvunskar.
.
What. The. Fuck?
Somebody was playing with him.
This felt like a fucking trap. By now, he wasn't really sure if he should even hope to find Aeyrin there. It felt like he was going to walk into some fucking ambush. Was this the Brotherhood, luring him to some place he had never even heard of? This… didn't really feel like them. So elaborate to lure him all the way here with that ring and that girl in Riverwood. That was… no one could actually illustrate that, could they?
It was worrisome.
But what choice did he have? He needed to find Aeyrin.
It was the only lead he had.
…
"So… were you serious?"
Enthir whispered with a palpably worried tone in his voice.
It was quite a ridiculous scene ahead of them, but still very dangerous.
That morning, after Aeyrin had finally thawed out in a warm bath at the inn, Enthir brought her some clothes. They were all grey and baggy, some linen trousers and shirt, likely made for a huge Nord, but they were clothes. Warm and clean.
Enthir was probably still a little moved by her pitiable state, because he even offered to pay for a meal for her. A modest one. The cheapest one possible, but still, she couldn't really complain. She caused him enough trouble, though he had his hand in all that mess as well. He did go to smooth the whole goat situation out while she ate, and she kind of lamented being left alone. It only gave her more time to despair about what she had done.
But fortunately, he was back in no time. And not only that, he quickly rushed to his secret stash behind the vat in the basement and returned with a handful of maps. The goal was clear – to find the nearest giant camp. The most likely place where Aeyrin had taken the goat. Or the dog.
They have determined two most likely locations. It was… far. Both of them were far. Enthir was obviously nervous about not getting the goat in time.
But with no other ideas, they set off towards their first destination – Tumble Arch Pass, a known giant camp near Nightgate Inn. They arrived at that place somewhat late in the afternoon. If the goat wasn't there, Enthir would surely not make it back in time.
But they were lucky.
Well… as lucky as one could be in this situation.
From a distance already, they heard it. Barking. Wild and oddly playful barking. As they neared the camp, they spotted what was causing the commotion. It was a rather ordinary goat, but it kept running and jumping around the giant at an unnatural speed for that animal, barking and leaning down into positions that no goat could ever manage. It really was an illusion. A persistent one, apparently, but this was a dog in goat's clothing.
To be fair, it did look like the dog was having fun. The giant was ignoring it completely, but the goat kept running around, getting underfoot constantly. It reminded Aeyrin so much of Karnwyr. He loved pestering giants just like this. Gods, how she missed him. He was gone only because of her. She still felt so guilty about that. And a day didn't pass when she worried for at least a second, wondering if he was alright.
But right now, they had a different problem. They needed to steal this goat back.
"Serious about what?" Aeyrin whispered back at Enthir as they watched the scene from a hiding place behind a large rock.
"That… thing you said. That you can't kill it. That you can't Shout," Enthir responded worriedly.
Dammit. She really didn't want to talk about this. She didn't want anyone to know. That was one dangerous rumor to spread and she didn't know if she could trust Enthir to keep quiet about this. She didn't know him nearly well enough.
But she couldn't lie either. If she told him she could Shout just fine, he would want her to kill the giant. And she had no means of doing that. She had no weapon at all. And she stood no chance against it unarmed.
She had to think of something.
"I… uh… it's only temporary," she mumbled. "I caught something in the cold and I can't strain my throat too much." Was that at least a little believable? She couldn't think of anything else just then.
"Really? You were all too happy singing the night away yesterday," Enthir scowled at her.
"Well… yeah… I wasn't supposed to. I'm glad I can even talk now," she shrugged, trying to appear as casual as she could. Fortunately he didn't have any more questions about that. "Can't you kill it?" she questioned him promptly. He was a mage! He didn't need a weapon.
"Not really. I'm not that kind of mage. I'm an enchanter. And I know some basic illusion magic. The dog still looks like a goat this long only because I used my enchanted amulet when I cast the spell. But mostly, I'm a linguist and a researcher," he shrugged.
Alright, that was really not helpful in this situation. He could have taken some of his magical trinkets with him, but Aeyrin already knew that he was kind of cheap to risk his merchandise.
"I don't know… I think he likes it here," she mused after a while of silent observation of the energetic goat. "Maybe he doesn't wanna go back."
"Yeah, well, I don't want to have my fucking face fixed by that lummox. He's going back," Enthir growled. He watched the scene for a second longer, before he turned to her with a disturbingly diabolical grin. "How are you at giant baiting?"
"What?!" Aeyrin almost shouted that before she realized herself. 'Giant baiting'? Was he serious?
"Well… you run in, get its attention, then run as fast as you can. I grab the dog in the meantime, how's that?" he smirked.
"No," Aeyrin hissed. "You go giant baiting. I can grab the dog." Why was she supposed to do the dangerous stuff? She was no better equipped for it than him right now.
"This is your mess, remember?" Enthir frowned at her in turn.
"Really? I don't remember forcing you to get me that stupid goat. And I don't remember telling you to kidnap a dog and… make him all illusiony." This was on him too! Why was he acting like this was just her fault?
"Yeah, because you don't remember anything," he scoffed. He had a point, but he had told her the story, now he had no right to change it when it was convenient for him.
Seeing her defiant face, however, made Enthir let out a sigh of resignation. "Tell you what, let's let chance determine this." He rummaged around in his pocket for a while, before he pulled out a single golden coin.
Alright… that was fair. And it was a good tactic. Anyone was faster than a giant, but still, accidents happened.
But this was a good way to decide it at least.
"Face or drake? I take drake," he called his choice before she could even let out a sound. He was oddly prepared for this. It made her uncomfortable. That man always looked like he had a trick up his sleeve, but how could he cheat a coin toss?
Aeyrin barely managed to nod as the elf tossed the coin into the air, letting it land on the palm of his hand. Before she could see the result, he quickly slapped it onto his other hand and only then pulled away.
Drake.
Great.
"I win. Good luck," he grinned at her.
This was going to be a pain. But at least she was somewhat rested and moderately thawed out now. She could move fast, especially without her equipment.
She let out a sigh of defeat, but she didn't dawdle. She wanted this whole adventure over with so that she could finally concentrate on finding Bishop. She was so worried that someone had done something to him. That the Brotherhood struck again.
But this was not the time to dwell on it. She had a giant to bait.
She didn't even try to be subtle as she ran across the soft layer of snow, towards the giant. The creature took note of her instantly.
She didn't dare get near. The giant was already riled up. She ran past it, as fast as she could, and surely enough, she could feel heavy footsteps behind her, quaking the ground. She wasn't sure how far she could run, but then, she spotted an opportunity.
Like a saving grace, a path beckoned her. There was a small gorge in front of her – encircled by tall rocks. But there was one small path between them she could squeeze into. Not the giant. Only someone as small as her could.
She didn't hesitate. She made sure not to outrun the giant too fast and when she reached the gorge, she dropped down, holding onto the rock and letting her feet dangle. This was no different from her escaping the house where she woke up.
The giant was already near and she let herself fall. It hurt. The same way as before, but she needed to ignore that now. She quickly got up on her feet and rushed towards the other end of the small gorge, near the path. There she waited.
The giant hesitated only for a second before it jumped down, landing with a heavy impact that shook the ground all around. But that was just what she needed. She didn't wait for it to react before she slipped into the crevice between the rocks and rushed up the path. She could still hear the footsteps behind her, but they were getting further and further. When she looked back, she could see the giant through the crevice, desperately trying to push the rocks away.
Hopefully he would have no luck with that.
With aching legs and very heavy breaths, she started to jog around the gorge and back towards the camp. Now it was hopefully entirely empty, save for the dog-goat.
It only took a few minutes for her to return, but there was nothing and no one at that camp, only the large roaring campfire.
"Enthir? Enthir, it's trapped. You can come out."
A second later, the elf emerged from their previous hiding place, snapping his fingers a bit in quick succession. Just then, the goat hopped from the hiding place as well, following the man excitedly.
At least this goat moved voluntarily.
"You trapped it? Good job," Enthir beamed at her when he reached her. "See, I knew you were the right person for this shit," his grin widened even more as he rummaged around in his pocket once more. He took out the same coin again, and with an unnervingly smug smirk, he turned it around in his fingers.
Drake… and drake.
He had a fake coin for this!
"You tricked me!" Aeyrin gaped at him incredulously.
"Hey, you were being difficult," he scoffed. "And it worked out for the best."
Yeah. Great. The best. Fine, the giant was gone and the dog saved, or kidnapped again. But now she had no idea what to do. Before, Enthir had said that she came back from the giant's camp only in her clothes, without her pack and armor and stuff. She was hoping to find her things here, but as she walked around the camp tentatively, she couldn't see anything of hers. There were some pieces of armor and some torn clothes, but nothing that rang any bells.
Dammit. What now? She still had no things, no Bishop. All she had was the constant nagging feeling of guilt.
But then, something caught her eye. Something very familiar.
As she looked at Enthir again, she noticed something behind him, lodged in a tree. There was a white rectangle there, like a note, but more importantly, it was what was actually pinning the note to the tree.
"Bishop's arrow!" she gasped as she rushed towards the tree instantly. Gods, she had a weird urge to grab and hug that familiar arrow, with the pretty blue feathers on the back. Bishop used crushed mountain flowers to mark his arrows with the coloring. She had asked him about it once – it was both so that he could retrieve them, he would settle for nothing less than his own quality after all, and also so that people wouldn't argue with him over kills. He didn't elaborate on that, but she expected it was some sort of competition back from his bandit days. It sounded like the kind of thing bandits would compete over – who killed the most people.
"What? How can you tell?" Enthir scoffed. Granted, telling arrows apart was unusual, but she would recognize this one anywhere.
"He… fletches his own," she answered absentmindedly. She wasn't really concerned with Enthir anymore. All her attention was on that arrow and the note. It must have been from Bishop. She wasn't sure how or why, but maybe he was here with her last night, in this camp. Giving a goat to a giant for some reason…
She plucked the arrow from the tree and unfolded the note eagerly. It was his handwriting for certain.
.
Come find me in Morvunskar.
.
What? Why? What was Morvunskar? Why would Bishop want to reunite with her in some weird place she didn't even know? The Nightgate Inn was so close! Why not there? This made no sense. But the handwriting and the arrow were definitely his.
"Enthir? Where's Morvunskar?" she called out to the elf. Maybe he would know.
"Haven't heard of it," the elf only shrugged. "But let's see." He reached out to his belt and took the map they had been using to track the giant's camp. It was already crumpled a bit from the use, but still very much readable.
She got so impatient as he studied the map. She knew where to find Bishop now. None of this still made sense to her, but she had to find him.
Even if it meant confessing to him what she had done.
Gods, her stomach twisted with just the thought of that.
"You're in luck. It's very close. Right outside of Windhelm, practically," he walked over to her and showed her the place on the map. It was a very helpful map. It had all these names on it. She wished hers was this detailed.
But she knew the place! Not what was inside, but she had walked past it many times before. It was an old Imperial fort, right by that cave where the Altmer bandit clan used to reside. She knew exactly how to get there.
It was still baffling that Bishop was there, but she would not figure out the reasons for it staying here.
"Guess you're heading there?" Enthir cocked his brow at her, eliciting a curt nod in return. "Alright. I'm gonna head back to Winterhold before that asshole decides my time is up," he grumbled. He did throw her a cheeky grin after that though. "Thanks for coming through in the end. Stay safe. And don't drink so much."
He really didn't have to tell her that twice.
…
Morvunskar was no less eerie that that fucking cabin.
Bishop was exhausted and his arm hurt like the fucking Void, especially as it always moved involuntarily without the sling. It was dusk again already and he was just fucking sick of this. He still didn't understand anything. He still didn't know how much time he lost or where Aeyrin was. He didn't even understand why he was just now voluntarily walking into an obvious trap.
But he was out of ideas.
He was just… resigned by now. Whatever would happen, would happen. It didn't matter anymore. Nothing made sense. Someone was playing a weird game with him, but he had no other leads on Aeyrin's location. He would just roll with the punches as they came. He continued on from Witchmist Grove until he found some travelers again. They had a map and pointed him to the right place.
Morvunskar was full of people. Dead people, that is.
They looked like mages – warlocks and necromancers, likely hiding here to practice their frowned-upon art. But none of them were alive anymore.
The weird thing was, there was no sign of an attack. There were no wounds on them, no magical marks, not even bruises. They just all had blank stares as they lay on the ground motionlessly. Whatever killed them, it did not do so in a traditional manner.
But who cared? It was just another mystery that made Bishop uneasy, but that didn't mean in the slightest that he would get any closer to any answers. There was no point in speculating.
He scoured the entire place – he was sure of it – but there was not a soul alive, except for the mice and spiders. At least Aeyrin wasn't among the dead though.
There was only one chamber ahead of him now. This was it. If this was something other than a weird prank that led nowhere, he would finally find out what was going on. Or he would be sent off on another wild goose chase.
Whatever it was, it waited for him behind the door.
He opened it impatiently, but he was just left staring there.
Staring at the emptiness.
The room was completely empty.
Well, alright, that wasn't entirely true. There was one lantern, hanging above one stool. And on that stool, there was a goblet. That was it.
Although… it did look a little weird, all propped up there like that. Fucking clandestine or something. Was there anything in that cup?
He approached tentatively, wary of any traps. When he reached it, he saw that there was something in the cup. And there was also a small note under it. Bishop only had to raise the goblet to read it.
.
Have a drink. You earned it.
.
He did fucking earn a drink. Although that was really the last thing he wanted to do just then. But again, he had no other ideas. He was probably gonna get poisoned. Or he was probably just gonna lose his memory again and wake up somewhere weird. But what else was there? He just wanted to find Aeyrin. Whatever game this was, he didn't care anymore.
He let out a sigh and sniffed the goblet tentatively. It smelled like spiced wine. Smelled harmless. He wouldn't be able to tell, of course, but… huh…
A little squeak tore his attention away. A mouse. They were all over the place, but now it gave him an idea.
Better it than him.
He walked towards the source of the squeaking, knelt down onto the ground and poured a tiny sip there. Hopefully the mouse was desperate for anything to eat and drink in this empty room.
"Come here, little mouse," he tapped his fingers near the tiny puddle, but as his words echoed back to him in his head, he couldn't help but flinch at them. Fuck, why did he say it like that? Ugh. That sounded like…
Shit, don't think about that.
Fortunately he had another thing to concentrate on soon. The mouse seemed concerned about the giant man hovering over there, but the temptation was too much. It scurried towards the spill soon and started to lap at it eagerly.
Bishop waited for a while, until the mouse got its fill, but it looked fine. Not even stumbling around or wavering in its steps as it ran off.
Well, it seemed safe enough, probably. He had no idea what having a drink would achieve, but maybe there was like a hidden room and someone was watching him, waiting for him to play along. He really hoped this was gonna be worth it.
He took a tentative sip, but when he could taste nothing but the familiar wine. That was reassuring. Though he did feel a little… lightheaded. Like he was a bit tipsy. Nothing bad though. It was actually kind of pleasant and…
What. The. Fuck. Was. That?
Suddenly, he noticed something on the other side of the room. It wasn't there before, he was sure of it, but now it was like there was nothing else in that chamber at all – it consumed all attention. A mass of yellow light, swirling and twirling in front of his eyes.
He had never seen anything like it. From the vague tales and descriptions he had heard, or from seeing atronachs summoned and such, he could surmise that this was some sort of a portal, even though he had never seen an actual portal before.
That was fucking unnerving. This thing could lead anywhere. And did it only appear now, after he drank it and whoever was likely watching him decided to reveal it? Or was it always there and could he only see it now when he drank that thing? It wouldn't be unprecedented. It could have been like that weird concoction at the temple of Vaermina. Though… that didn't really make him feel more at ease.
Fuck, just stop fucking questioning it. Nothing makes sense anymore. Follow through.
He really had no idea where he could end up. But he hoped he would finally find some answers there.
With determination, he stepped into the light. He couldn't help but close his eyes. It was too bright. Too… everything. And he felt kind of sick for a moment, like motion sickness when a carriage bumped too much.
But it passed very soon. And then, all he could perceive was this… overwhelmingly pleasant smell.
His eyes opened and he finally took a stock of his surroundings. It was a… a garden. Filled with all kinds of flowers and, most of all, large red rosebushes everywhere. The sun was beaming, illuminating the scene in a strange serenity. Funny. It was supposed to be dark by now, wasn't it? But it looked like the middle of the day. And the smell… he couldn't place it. Like roses and wine combined.
What was this place?
The light made it almost seem otherworldly. And the smell… it was so sweet. There were torchbugs flying everywhere, despite the fact that it seemed to be daytime, and there was a distant sound of chirping birds. It would have looked all so serene.
If it wasn't for the other sounds disturbing the serenity.
There were definitely people there, around and behind the bushes. They were laughing, sometimes singing drunkenly. And there was definitely some moaning in the mix too.
What the fuck was this place?
"You made it!"
A sudden eager voice tore him from his confusions. A young man suddenly rushed from behind the bushes, dressed in a strange, colorful… robe? It couldn't even be called a robe. It only had a sash over his chest and a… 'skirt' barely covered up what was underneath. He looked drunk. His face was all red and there was a wide grin on his face. And his hair was odd. Underneath a rich floral wreath, it was all fluffy and, while it was hard to tell here in this dazzling place, it felt like it was playing in a myriad of pastel colors, each visible under different light or angle. His eyes had a very confusingly unique color as well.
Bishop had never seen the man in his life.
"What the fuck?" he murmured, almost to himself, but the young man didn't seem to mind his confusion at all.
"Come, come, join the party! I'm so glad you made it all the way here," he started to wave Bishop over wildly. This was the person playing with him? At least he didn't really look like an assassin. He looked like a mindless drunk, hardly capable of this elaborate nerve-wrecking game.
The man disappeared behind the bushes again, leaving Bishop there alone. Well… what else was there to do? Apparently, he just needed to… 'join the party'.
He walked past the bushes as well until another staggering scene was revealed to him.
There was a long table there, filled with food and drinks, a myriad of them. It was practically overflowing. The young man was there, laughing and drinking and so were several others dressed in the same robes – men and women alike, completely unperturbed by the various bits of flesh showing. Then again, why would they? There were plenty of other people around. Some of them were dressed in regular clothes, some of them were completely nude. And some of them were taking full advantage of their lack of clothing. There was one thing that all the present people had in common. They were all drinking, laughing and clearly celebrating.
And above that all, someone was watching with a content expression on his face. No… something was watching with a content expression on its face.
A gilded, ornate throne perched above the long table, as if the person sitting on it was supposed to oversee the celebration. And oversee it did. Bishop had never seen anything like it. It looked like a Dremora. Kind of. Except that it was decidedly bigger, more muscular, and it had pretty impressive horns. So big that Bishop had to wonder how its neck didn't snap. And, as opposed to the Dremoras that Bishop had seen someone summon before, its skin was entirely brightly red.
"Welcome!" the young man skipped towards him again. He seemed so excited to see Bishop there.
Bishop just watched the scene incredulously. He had no idea how to even react to this. Where was he? These people were just… drinking, singing and fucking like nothing out of the ordinary was going on. Didn't they end up here the same way that Bishop did?
"What… where am I?" he stammered. Maybe he hit his head and this was just a weird dream. It certainly felt like it. It was the more plausible explanation. Or maybe he was going insane.
"Don't worry so much. You're here for the party! You made it all the way here and now you get to celebrate," the young man grinned as he gripped Bishop's shoulder amicably.
Yeah, that was not going to happen. As if he could relax now.
"What the fuck is that thing?" Bishop pointed at the red horned creature sitting on the throne.
It still looked so content. And he now noted that the thing was dressed in the same robe as some of these people, only that it was glimmering with gold, instead of swirling with colors like theirs. The horns looked to be speckled with gold as well and there were a myriad of chains with charms wrapped around them. The creature also wore countless golden necklaces, earrings and bracelets, shining with so many colorful gems adorning them. Then, Bishop's eyes went to its hands. In one, there was a large goblet, literally overflowing with drink, spilling the liquid over the hand and onto the grass below. Constantly. It made no sense. And in the other, the creature held firmly what may have been some kind of a scepter. It was shaped like a grand rose though and the tip of it, the petals, almost looked like they moved, opening and closing periodically.
That was… did he really hit his head?
"That's our master," the young man by Bishop's side chirped happily.
'Master'? That rarely signaled something good. And suddenly, things were starting to connect. The drinks, the mindless sex and revelry and… some devoted disciples, apparently. He didn't know much about these religious things, but it did seem like this could only be one thing. One… creature. Or entity, or whatever.
"Master Sanguine," the young man chuckled when he saw Bishop's concentrated face, trying to piece it together.
Fuck.
Shit. Fuck. Of course it was a fucking Daedric Prince messing with him. Why? Why were they always running into these shits? Why would this thing choose him to play its game with?
And for that matter, was he actually in fucking Oblivion right now?!
He knew it wasn't like the afterlife. He knew that people could actually get there. Sometimes. Maybe not entirely. He didn't really understand this shit. It was like… like in Dawnstar with that Vaermina shit. Aeyrin was talking about some 'pocket realms' and shit, and the whole 'being on the edge of Oblivion' or whatever. Ugh. He didn't wanna think about it too much. The main thing was, he knew that things like these were actually somewhat possible, unfortunately. He just never thought he would see it with his own eyes.
Fuck, he really didn't want to think about it. He still had no idea why Sanguine would mess with him like this. And what were the other people doing here? Was he messing with all of them? There were so many questions suddenly. But he was definitely out of his depth. And that promptly made him remember why he was here in the first place.
"Where's Aeyrin?" he growled at the young man irritably. She would understand this shit better, even if she probably had the urge to kill that overlord, possibly immortal, Daedric Prince, sitting there like nothing weird was happening.
"Who?" the young man gave Bishop a questioning look. Fuck that didn't bode well. But a second later, a pleasant chime started to ring through the air and the man perked up instantly. "Another newcomer!" he gasped in astonishment.
A 'newcomer'? Did he even dare hope?
…
Aeyrin hesitated in front of the last chamber.
It was the last. At least she was pretty sure of it. The layout of the place suggested as much. She couldn't concentrate on that too much though. There was so much on her mind right now.
First of all, there was no sign of Bishop. Why? He sent her the note. He was supposed to be here, to meet her. Why wasn't he here? And… what would she do when she finally found him? Would she tell him right away? Could she? Should she?
There was also another matter that bothered her. The corpses. They were everywhere in Morvunskar – some mages. She almost expected to find more of Bishop's arrows in them, but there were none. In fact, those people looked just like she remembered the Imperial in her bed looking. Dead, but with no signs of what happened. It was very disturbing.
But she chose to ignore the nagging bad feelings as best as she could.
As much as she was dreading this, she needed to find Bishop. Stepping over corpses and everything. She didn't care anymore. She'd had enough. She just wanted to finish dealing with this mess for once and for all.
She opened the door at last and stared at the scene.
There wasn't really anything inside. Just a lantern, a stool and a goblet on it.
Fine. It seemed to be clear. The goblet was the only thing there – she should drink whatever was inside. She didn't know if it was Bishop luring her here. It wasn't like him to play cryptic games. She didn't know what was going on any more than she did this morning and she was sick of it. She was just gonna barge through the obstacles like a mammoth. That was her usual tactic anyway.
She marched towards the goblet without hesitation and grabbed it. She barely even noticed the note under it and she only read it as she was already sipping.
.
Have a drink. You earned it.
.
Damn right she did. Though drinking was not really a tempting prospect just then. But it was just spiced wine. She liked spiced wine.
She got a little woozy from that one goblet, it did concern her a tad, but she was not even nearly drunk. Just a little… tipsy maybe. It was odd, after only one goblet, but she really didn't get fazed by odd stuff anymore.
Well… maybe except for… that.
Was that a… what was that? It was this giant blob of swirling magical light. She hadn't seen one before, but it was kind of what she would imagine that a portal looked like.
That was clearly where she was being lured and she was going to get in. Whatever awaited inside, she would deal with. As always. No hesitation.
She stepped into the light, closing her eyes, before a sweet smell filled her nostrils. It was quite lovely. She couldn't tell what it was – it was like a lot of things at once. But it was definitely pleasant. And she opened her eyes to find an equally calming sight in front of her.
It was the last thing she would ever expect – to find herself in some strange serene garden, filled with roses. It was so beautiful. It almost made her forget her worries for a brief second, but the odd noises didn't let her.
There were people. A lot of people, from the sounds of it. Laughing and singing and… uhh… did she really hear what she thought she heard? Those noises sounded like people were… doing things.
Alright, never mind. Never mind. Whatever this place was, she would find out once she walked towards that… orgy? Well there were people talking too. Hopefully it wasn't all just… an orgy.
She walked towards the rose bushes that were decorating the strange garden, and the moment she stepped around them, she saw it.
Everything got so confusing all of the sudden. All those people. Someone grabbed her, a young man in a strangely skimpy robe, and he started to drag her closer to the large table and the myriad of people there, but she couldn't really concentrate on anything. Not one thing in particular. Or more specifically, she wasn't sure what to concentrate on first. The people, some of whom were currently very naked and very entangled, or the ones dressed in those robes, the strange man or… a creature, sitting there on a throne, or the moving staff in its hand. It was all a lot. A lot at once.
"Princess!"
The comfortingly familiar voice drowned all of the noises out. She didn't even get to locate Bishop in this place before she felt herself be pulled into a tight hug. It was so soothing among all the confusion. She was so happy that he was really here, alive and hale, not trapped in another assassin plot. Well… probably not 'hale'. He didn't really hold her with his injured arm. Where was his sling anyway? Did something happen to him? Did he get hurt again?
Stop it. Stop fretting. Just enjoy this. While you still can.
She wrapped her arms around him and buried her face into the leather of his armor. She really needed this. The entire day had just been so upsetting. It still was going to be. Her stomach was constantly in knots about what she had to admit to him, but for this second, she was just glad to feel him against her once more.
"Fuck, sweetness, I was so fucking worried about you." Bishop squeezed her closer to himself eagerly.
"I was worried about you too," she returned the squeeze. "I was afraid this was another Brotherhood scheme and not… not…" she pulled her face away from his chest a little reluctantly as she looked at the scene again – at the drunken people, celebrating and fornicating, and the strange horned man on the throne. That… staff of his. Or a scepter. Why was it shaped like a rose? It rang some unpleasant bells in her head. "What is this?" she almost whispered.
"Don't ask," Bishop mumbled as he pressed her back into him again and buried his face in her hair. "Seriously, this whole… day or… I don't remember, it was all so fucking weird, just please, don't question it. Don't panic. Let's just get out of here."
Well… she was already starting to put things together. At least about that… thing on the throne. It looked disturbingly like some old sketches in the Stendarrite books she vaguely remembered. And that rose scepter kind of confirmed her fears.
What was this? Was that really Sanguine? Where were they? Was this some pocket realm? Or was this actually one of the Myriad Realms of Revelry? And did that even matter? Was all that drunkenness just some game by Sanguine? Why? Why would he do this to them? To anyone?
"What are you wearing?" Bishop finally pulled himself away from her a bit as he looked her up and down. "What happened with you? I… I just remember Rorikstead."
"Y-yeah… me too," she nodded slowly. Maybe he would be understanding. Maybe he wouldn't even give it a second thought – she didn't remember anything. It was like it never happened. She wasn't even really convinced that she had ever even touched that man. But she still couldn't keep those lies between them. "Bish… I… I woke up this morning in Winterhold and… I was… uhm…" she stammered a bit, trying to get the words out. Right now, she couldn't look at his face. She desperately tried to look anywhere else.
And that was when her eyes fell on something. Someone.
It was him!
"You!"
She pushed herself away from the embrace and stomped across the garden towards the man. An Imperial. Dark hair. It was him. Although he looked a bit different here. Aside from the clothes and the flowers in his locks, his eyes were odd, though she had never seen them before. And his hair seemed to change in color under some light. But it was still him. She recognized him.
Sam.
Alive, clearly. And apparently also amused at seeing her here.
"I am glad you found your way here," he smirked at her. "Not everyone does."
"Who's that?" Aeyrin didn't expect Bishop's voice to suddenly ring behind her ear, but it stood to reason that he got curious about her sudden angry march.
"Good question," she scowled at the Imperial. "Who are you? I saw you dead!" This was getting so much more confusing. He was dead. She was sure of it.
"Not a good question, actually," the man chuckled. "The better question is: what am I? I am not very easy to kill."
"What are you?" Bishop let out a disdainful groan along with the adjusted question. This was gonna be fucking disturbing. He just knew it.
"Why, I'm a Reveler, of course," the 'Imperial' grinned. "We all are, all of us in our dresses," he gestured to his colorful outfit, then to the young man that had previously welcomed Bishop, and a few others in this attire. "We… alter the mortal realm. We nudge events. To entertain the master."
"Sanguine," Aeyrin almost whispered the name. It was still hard to believe, even after all that happened to her today. She felt like this was just some strange dream concocted in her head. All of this was so… out of this world. Well… it was, technically. She just didn't understand anything. And she didn't want to look back on that Prince again. She was terrified about what he was planning on doing to them here. And she had the urge to go and attack him. She couldn't help it – he was here, a Daedric Prince, actually here. Well… maybe it was just an illusion? Or an avatar? Anything was really possible at this point. She really missed her Stendarrite amulet right now. She knew it didn't do anything, but clutching it always made her feel a little better in these insane situations. How did they get themselves tangled up with yet another Daedric Prince?
"Yes, our master Sanguine, the Lord of Mirth. We all travel to your realm to find entertainment for him. And for you mortals as well. Didn't have fun?" Sam chuckled at them merrily.
"Fun?! That was no 'fun'!" Aeyrin yelled at him. How was any of it fun?! She was constantly stressed and uncertain and confused and guilty. None of this was fun. But what did he mean by 'alter the mortal realm'? And 'nudge events'? What did that say about last night?
"You keep calling us 'mortals', what are you?" Bishop interrupted Aeyrin's imminent question with a deep scowl. "Are you a Daedra?"
"You can call us whatever you wish. We come from the Myriad Realms and we serve master Sanguine. That's all you need to know. We are not bound to mortal shells and we have more power than any of you on Nirn can ever hope to wield," the Reveler looked so happy and carefree as he said this, even though it sounded like a threat. "You may call me Sam."
A very mundane name for a Daedra, or whatever he was. It was almost ridiculous.
"You said you 'shape the mortal realm'," Aeyrin scowled at the man angrily. She still didn't understand why he would toy with her like this, but she needed to know now if any of it was even real. "What does that mean? What happened last night?"
"What do you mean, mortal?" Sam grinned at her somewhat maliciously. "You had fun. Lots of it. Abundance of laughter, drink and… other things."
Did that mean that it was real? Or… Gods! Why was he being so vague! He just wanted her to spell it out, was that it? She was getting so angry, so frustrated. This whole thing was a nightmare. She just wanted to know the truth already. She really wanted to hear whether she actually slept with a Daedra. Although if the answer was 'yes', she was pretty sure she would never recover from that realization.
"You know what I'm asking!" she barked at him. "What happened last night? I… I woke up next to you and don't remember a thing. What happened?" she hissed. It was easier to get the words out with Bishop listening, now that she was so angry. But it still didn't help the pang of pain shooting through her chest at his shocked exclamation.
"What?!"
Aeyrin expected the accusing look, or maybe she just expected it because she thought she may have deserved it. Did she? This whole thing was getting so convoluted. But it still surprised her when Bishop took a step towards Sam instead.
"What the fuck did you do to her, you bastard?!" He tried to grab the Reveler by the sash of his 'dress', but the second he did, his hand went right through the cloth. Like it was only an illusion.
An amused laughter tore him away from his shock. All three of them instantly looked towards the source without thinking – it looked like they caught someone's attention. Sanguine was looking at them, still with that content smile on his face, before he inclined his head to Sam with another chuckle. He punctuated it with a respectful clap of his large red hands as all his golden bracelets jingled against each other, sending a strangely relaxing song ringing through the air. It was… very disturbingly soothing to the angry mood.
"Master enjoys exuberant displays," Sam smiled at them calmly, tearing their attention back to himself. "But… in the spirit of joy and undisturbed revelry, I would like to assure you that I was only playing," he nodded at Aeyrin, but that wasn't really comforting. That could mean anything!
"Did you fucking do anything to her or not?!" Bishop spat at him in frustration. He wasn't even sure what he was going to do if the answer was 'yes'. Beat up a Daedra? Try to stab a Prince for ever creating these fuckers? This was just… out of his depth.
"I realize what you are asking," Sam sighed when his vague answers only elicited more anger. "The answer is no. You are mistaking what would entertain my master. I think you are mistaking him for another of the Princes," he scoffed.
Aeyrin wouldn't put it past any of these horrible monsters to enjoy suffering. What did it matter if it was someone like Molag Bal or Sanguine? They were all awful. As if, even without the knowledge of spending the night with this Reveler, she hadn't been through enough disturbing and traumatizing things after Sanguine's games.
But… she had to admit, it was comforting to hear.
"I did suggest it, of course, but you were too reluctant for my master to ever enjoy the depravity. Imagine. A Stendarrite, with a Daedra. Delightful," Sam chuckled. "But you were adamant. I will never understand your mortal inhibitions, but that didn't mean I could still not entertain. The consequences and your reaction to the perceived act were surely what our master would enjoy. As well as those to the murder. You were a marvelous sport, my dear."
Lovely. Just… lovely. Aeyrin could only let out an exasperated sigh. She was still angry about this entire thing but… she couldn't deny how relieved she was. Both about not sleeping with Sam, and not murdering him. So the only thing she actually did was the mess with the goat? That wasn't that bad.
"So you orchestrated everything that happened?" Bishop scowled at him. He was still trying to piece things together.
"Some things. We nudge. We provide entertainment in moments where there might be none, but believe me, you do plenty yourself as well. Mortals are very entertaining when they are inebriated," Sam grinned. "Sometimes we appear and participate. Sometimes we just watch. Sometimes we nudge in secret. Like Bliss did with you," he gestured towards the young man who had greeted Bishop – Bliss, apparently. Not as ordinary a name as Sam had.
"He nudged? The shit that happened to me?" Bishop scowled as he looked at the man. Or… Reveler, to be exact. The note on the wall in Witchmist Grove and all that shit? He couldn't be sure how much was the Reveler and how much was his own stupidity.
"Bliss doesn't appear to mortals in their realm. I do enjoy doing that," Sam nodded. "I take on a moral name and appear to them as one of them. In whatever circumstance I choose for the master's entertainment."
"Why us?" Aeyrin asked at last. She still didn't understand how they always ended up in these situations. Markarth was a bad coincidence, sure. Dawnstar was just… their 'helpful' reputation sweeping the rug under them. This, however, made no sense. What, they were just picked out of the countless people on Nirn, just… randomly? Well… clearly not just them. The other people here, they were mortals as well, right? Though they didn't seem nearly as panicked as Bishop and Aeyrin were. But maybe they had been here longer.
"Because you called, of course," Sam grinned.
"What? 'Called'?" Bishop scowled at him. This was weird. Why would they 'call' for someone they didn't even know existed?
"Yes. Quite surprising, actually. How did you come to call?" the Reveler pondered. How were they supposed to answer that?
"We don't know! What does that mean 'we called'?" Aeyrin threw her hands up in exasperation. This was getting no easier to understand. And she still had to try hard to push down the anxiety of being here, right next to a Daedric Prince.
"What were you drinking?" Sam smirked.
"The… rum?" Bishop's eyes went wide at the man. "You're telling me that the fucking rum was actually cursed?!" he scoffed. All that shit that Jack had been blabbering about, it was true? He said that a Daedra messed with his rum. It was actually fucking true?
"'Cursed'? I think you were blessed with an exciting and wild time," Sam laughed. "But to sate my curiosity, my dears, what was this rum? Where did you get it?"
"There was a… ship captain. He called himself Jack. We… took some of his bottles…" Aeyrin spoke uncertainly. She still didn't remember Jack's actual name. He never really gave it to them sober.
"Ah! Master!" Sam called out to Sanguine, who was currently busy watching with interest as a couple got entangled together down in the grass.
"Yes, pet?" Sanguine turned his gaze towards Sam, with the adornments on his horns sending the same pleasant tune through the air again. His voice, though deep, was surprisingly sweet and honeyed and it carried through the garden like a bird's song.
"These two stole some of Jack's bottles," he chuckled. "I guess they know how to pick them."
Sanguine's grin widened and he let out a sonorous laugh of his own. Another musical clap of his hands followed. It was almost hard to notice that his scepter held up straight completely on its own as he did that. His goblet had been long discarded on the arm of his throne, but it was still overflowing, continuously pouring some liquid down onto the grass below.
"How many bottles does he have left, pet?" Sanguine questioned with that mesmerizing voice again.
"Two, master," Sam inclined his head diligently.
"Ah well, still plenty of fun to be had," Sanguine nodded. "These two were entertaining enough. Though I do miss old Jack. He hasn't been back in a while. Perhaps you should give him a little nudge, pet," he winked.
"Happy to, master," the Reveler bowed in response.
Sanguine was no longer listening. He was preoccupied with another group of mortals, debating something harshly by the table. But the exchange between him and his Reveler only left Aeyrin and Bishop with more questions.
"So… you've seen Jack before?" Aeyrin started up the topic uncertainly again. Jack was actually right.
"Yes, my dear," Sam nodded. "You see, we take master's sacred nectar and go onto your Nirn. We add it to a bottle here and there and then we go around, waiting for the ones we find… interesting. We sell them the drinks and then wait for the call when the nectar beckons us back on your mortal plane. Master's nectar is powerful, but we still watch and nudge to make its effects even more fun. And then, when the effects pass, we come back and we wait. The mortals have their clues, their chance to find their way here. Some do. Some don't and they move on with their lives. Those that do are welcome to remain here as long as they wish. Jack has made it back here a few times already. He is a determined one when he retraces his steps. A delight to have, certainly. His escapades are very entertaining to the master."
So this was it. By stealing the rum, they took Jack's place in this twisted game for Sanguine's entertainment. That nectar must have been only in some of the bottles – they certainly didn't experience this after the first two. Maybe it was for the element of surprise. Maybe not to make the target too wary to drink. But… if Jack had been here before, why was he still spewing the vague stuff about curses? Why didn't he tell everyone about Sanguine's game?
"So we can leave," Bishop scowled at him. He needed to make sure that this wasn't some trick to trap them in this place forever.
"Of course. Mortals need to go back to their realm eventually. Otherwise, how else would they find the nectar and do everything all over again?" Sam let out a wistful sigh. "But why rush?"
"'Rush'?" Aeyrin scoffed "How long were we even… under the effects of that… nectar? It must have taken more than one night." This was still bothering her. How much time did they actually lose?
"Likely, dear, but I have no idea. Time flows differently in the Realms. It's not something our master wants us concerned about. We have all the time in Oblivion after all," the Reveler waved his hand dismissively.
"Mortals," Sanguine's honeyed voice rang through the air with audible scoff. They didn't even realize before that the Prince had been watching them again. "So obsessed with time. Don't you find it exhausting? How often do you turn to drink to muddy its perception? That should be telling, I think. But I suppose your Aedric overlord wouldn't take kindly to his domain being ignored," a light chuckle escaped his lips as he shook his head, letting the adornments play their music again.
Time was concerning. But they clearly weren't going to get any answers about that here.
"Is that… the Sanguine Rose?" Aeyrin inclined her head subtly to Sanguine's scepter when the Prince's attention got diverted once more. She couldn't help but steal a glance at it every now and then. She knew that the thing was some horrible artifact that was likely capable of something bad. She wasn't sure of what exactly, she didn't remember from her studies. But… she always imagined all the Daedric artifacts to be all… dark and menacing. Like the Skull. Or that horrid rusty mace. She didn't really think that one would be this… beautiful.
"Yes," Sam nodded. "And no, you did not earn the Sanguine Rose by finding your way here. It is reserved for a true champion of our master and not for his entertainment." He delivered those sentences as if he had done so many times before. Perhaps people were eager to get their hands on the artifact when they saw it here like this, openly on display.
"And I assure you," Sam continued with a hint of threat in his voice. "Getting anywhere near the Rose will end up very badly for you. You are in our master's domain. Never forget that."
Yes… she suspected as much. Not that she wanted it anyway. If the Rose couldn't be in the Vigilants' vaults, the next best thing was probably for Sanguine to guard his own artifact until he found someone 'worthy'. That would hopefully take ages, whatever this thing did.
"What happens now?" Bishop's scowl still didn't disappear. "And, by the way, since you fuckers were so intent on 'nudging', where the fuck did you 'nudge' our equipment?" He wanted his fucking bow back. And whatever Aeyrin had been through, she clearly missed… everything. Aside from the rings. That was pretty nice to see. He wasn't sure why Sam would leave her with the rings, but he was certainly happy for that.
"You have been sufficiently entertaining," once more, Sanguine's sudden voice surprised them. Was he talking like this to the others as well? Somehow nobody but the three of them were looking at him. Could only they hear him right now?
Sanguine's hand flashed with brief light, all of the sudden, and a familiar amulet of Stendarr suddenly appeared on the tip of his outstretched finger, dangling in his light grip.
Her amulet! He had it!
Aeyrin almost stepped closer to the throne to grab it on instinct, but two things stopped her. First, there was Bishop's immediate reaction as he gripped her wrist tightly, stilling her. He was clearly wary of her approaching the Prince. And then, there was Sanguine's chuckle itself as he grabbed the amulet again in his palm teasingly and, with another flash, it was gone once more.
"You may have your mortal belongings back once you leave," Sanguine smirked at them with amusement. "But first, why don't you celebrate a while, hmm? What better place for it than right here?"
It was probably a very bad idea. They should just leave. Would Sanguine give them their stuff back if they just left right now and put this mess behind them? Drinking more sounded like the worst thing to do just then and, as beautiful as this place was, it was unnerving. And not just because of the people fucking all over the garden. Also because of the Daedric Prince watching it all with interest.
"Just stop for a while," Sam gave them an encouraging smile. "You've had quite an adventure, the both of you. Why don't you join the others for a spell and rest before you go back to your mortal plane. The master would be very happy if you did."
Bishop and Aeyrin only exchanged exasperated looks. They were both kind of nervous about refusing anyone here. But… maybe they didn't need to drink. They could just sit and talk for a while, go over what each of them had been through. Though Bishop would surely omit some of the details. He could just tell Aeyrin it was his dragon-head ring instead of the one that it actually was. He would be just as eager to get that one back.
And then, hopefully, when Sanguine saw that there was no more fun to be had with them, he would let them leave.
They were just… too exhausted and still shocked to do anything else.
…
"And that was it. I had that note from you and I came here," Aeyrin finally reiterated the last parts of her tale to Bishop. "I guess you don't remember writing it?"
"I asked him to!" The young man, Bliss, who was just hovering around the garden, suddenly interrupted them before Bishop could answer. The man was gone in a minute again, more invested in someone else.
"Yeah… I don't remember it at all," Bishop smirked. It was still disturbing. All of it. He hated that Aeyrin felt so guilty the entire time about what Sam pulled. Though the rest of her story was quite funny. Unlike his. He just made more people mad. Like the priestesses in Markarth. And he really didn't want to think about what he had done to Ysolda. Again.
But at least, telling each other what they had been up to, no matter how crazy and unbelievable it was, felt comfortingly normal. It was oddly grounding in this weird place. Everything was still too disturbing to think about.
They just sat by the table, at the very end, ready to leave any second. They had tons of food and drinks in front of them, but they didn't touch any of it from their wariness. Still, nobody seemed to mind. For a twisted garden of a Daedric Prince, people were surprisingly nice. And nobody even protested when Aeyrin tried to look at Bishop's arm and heal him a little. It was not something she could fix herself – not the faint magical burns and definitely not the damage done to his nerves again, but she could at least continue the previous treatment. She even used his knife to cut off a wrap from her current shirt – she had plenty of it left anyway – and she fashioned it into a new makeshift sling.
Bishop and Aeyrin just didn't have the energy to even worry anymore. They adamantly tried to ignore drunken singing, the numerous sounds of people having sex and the music permeating through the air whenever Sanguine moved even a little. It was easier to treat this all as just one crazy dream.
Not going with it and trying to 'force' their way out instead might just not go over well. Sanguine clearly wanted things merry and relaxed.
"I guess we entertained, huh?" Bishop scoffed. It was still fucking annoying to have been played with like this. He only hoped they would manage to get out of here unscathed. But at least he had Aeyrin back by his side. Nothing was more important.
"It could have been better," another voice suddenly interrupted them. Just like all the Revelers, Sam had been hovering around the garden, watching people, listening to them, and possibly nudging entertaining scenes to unfold.
"See that woman over there?" he pointed to one of the girls at the other side of the long table, currently singing her lungs out with what from afar sounded like a dirty song. "She ran naked through the streets of Solitude until she broke into a mead barrel outside the tavern and hid inside it. She almost literally drowned in mead. When the people around heard some sounds, they called the guards. Two of them arrived and tried to arrest her, but she managed to talk them down, even in her drunken state. For some… favors. Very impressive. That was a night to remember," Sam smirked.
Well… it was a good thing that they didn't top that. Somehow it sounded like a bad idea to be too entertaining for Sanguine. For multiple reasons.
"Will you still watch us back on Nirn?" Aeyrin asked with concern. The Revelers really seemed to watch everything somehow. She wasn't sure she wanted to know the details.
"I will if you're ever under the effects of master's nectar again," Sam grinned at her. "But beyond that, it is not in our power."
That was comforting at least. As opposed to how angry she had been at Sam at the start, he was really helpful with these answers. It was a bit unexpected how forthcoming he actually was, but not unwelcome. There were so many confusing questions answered. It just made this mess a little less scary. Not 'not scary', but just a little less so. She was still terrified of Sanguine himself though. Even if he was acting all amused and content, it was a façade that couldn't be trusted. All the Princes were evil. And it wasn't as if Sanguine hadn't made them suffer already with his games. She just worried that her usual behavior around these things would make everything worse. The peacefulness of the garden was making her much more placated and wary of disturbing it and incurring Sanguine's wrath.
"So… can we really leave?" Bishop asked again, as if he had been reading her mind at that moment.
"Of course. Master will be happy to see you again, should you encounter the nectar once more," Sam grinned. "But do you really want to leave already?"
The strangest thing was that it was tempting to stay a bit.
It felt a little bit like a threat coming from Sam. Maybe because of what this place really was. They instantly got nervous when he suggested they should linger. But it wasn't just that. Despite everything, despite what this place was, there was still some measure of… serenity here. Some strange feeling of safety. It was a place so outside of the world that none of their usual worries could reach them there.
It was a disturbing feeling, to actually want to stay in Oblivion. It begged the question whether all these people were just lured there like them, overwhelmed by the feeling of wanting to stay. Maybe none of them wanted to linger at first, but couldn't resist.
That thought only made it more unnerving.
"Stop worrying about everything so much already," Sam chuckled, seeing their conflicted expressions. "This is the exact place where you should put your concerns out of your mind. Isn't that what you wanted? Why else would you turn to Jack's special bottle?"
He did have a point.
They wanted this – to drown themselves in drink and forget, even for a while about what could still be haunting them in the real world.
But still, they were too apprehensive now. They kept worrying that drinking anything here would result in the same loss of memory, same confusion. It hadn't been an exactly pleasant experience for either of them.
They shared a questioning look between each other, but they could already tell that the other felt the same. This place would never manage to rid them of their worries – especially those worries that were specifically about this place.
And Aeyrin still felt that uneasy pit in her stomach every time she reminded herself where she was and what these… things were, the Daedra, their Prince. This place was unnatural. And the state of the mortals around and what they were doing only made her fret about the two of them ending up like this if they participated too much – doing it all for Sanguine's entertainment. She didn't want to do anything for a Daedra's benefit.
They just hoped that Sam wasn't lying and they were really free to leave.
"Y-yes… we want to leave," Aeyrin nodded at Sam uncertainly.
"It's your choice," the Reveler nodded. "But before you do, it is customary to do one toast to master's glory. He had been a gracious host to you after all."
They didn't notice what happened – where did the two golden goblets in Sam's hands come from. They weren't constantly overflowing like Sanguine's, but they seemed to hold the same liquid. The Reveler passed them to the two and they shared another uncertain look.
It was still a dilemma. They didn't want to drink anything here, but they were wary of upsetting the Prince as well. Making a scene would not go well. Sam was right – this was Sanguine's domain and it wasn't smart to disrespect him in this place, as much as they might want to.
"Whatever happens, happens," Bishop sighed as he took the goblet from Sam. He definitely preferred losing some memory to having to deal with upsetting Sanguine. He just hoped he wouldn't lose Aeyrin again.
She herself grabbed the goblet as well, but with palpable disgust and reluctance. Accepting anything from the Daedra was making shivers go down her spine. But she didn't know what else to do. She didn't want to make Sam or Sanguine mad either.
Just as they both got a hold of their respective cups, a loud music rang through the air. It took them a while to notice that it was the result of Sanguine suddenly standing up from his throne, cup and the Rose in hands. It was almost like his adornments were playing that chiming music to get everyone's attention. And they did. In that moment, all the mortals as well as the Revelers, turned their attention to the Prince.
"My dear mortals, my lovely pets," his sweet voice carried through the air almost as overwhelmingly as the smell of roses and wine. "It is time to part with our newcomers. They chose to go back to their mortal plane, as you all can," he smiled kindly.
"Who would ever want to leave this place?" One of the mortals laughed at the notion.
It was… probably a good idea they didn't decide to linger. They wondered if they would ever want to leave. Then again people here did look happy and carefree.
"Now, now, my dear, there are adventures and entertainment to be found back on your plane," Sanguine grinned at the mortal. "But let us say our goodbyes to the newcomers now and fill the void they leave behind with drink and mirth."
"To wine, pleasure and roses," Sam raised his own cup that came out of nowhere. "To our master Sanguine."
The mortals and Revelers alike raised their cups, as did Sanguine. His overflowing goblet still made the liquid flow all over his large, red hand and onto the soft grass below.
Aeyrin and Bishop raised their own cups hesitantly, but they did have hope. There was no malicious laughter, followed by ominous words such as: 'You are never leaving this place, mortals'. It wasn't a sure guarantee, but it was a little encouraging.
As everyone drank, they both took a tentative sip.
The wine was sweet. Overwhelmingly so. It dulled all other senses. The smell was beginning to dull, as well as the music of Sanguine's adornments. And the beauty of the garden started to darken gradually.
Until there was nothing left.
…
A slow dripping sound permeated through the area.
It was annoying. And constant. And where the fuck was he?
Bishop was barely awake and already there were so many fucking things bugging him. For one, he was definitely lying on a cold, stone ground. That was unpleasant. Second, his arm burned so fucking much and he didn't know why. It had been getting better before. Why did it hurt like this?
And third, he didn't remember anything – where he was, what happened last night. He only remembered drinking with Aeyrin in Rorikstead.
At least she was curled comfortably around his flank. That was always a nice distraction from anything else. But then again, nothing could distract him from his splitting headache and scraping dry-mouth.
He let out a tired and annoyed groan as he squirmed on the hard ground. At least he could open his eyes. It felt like it was dark, wherever they were.
At his motions, Aeyrin stirred as well. In the meantime, he managed to open his eyes and take scope of their situation. They seemed to be in some dark chamber. It looked like some abandoned dungeon or a fort, based on the architecture and the emptiness of it, save for the cobwebs and some mice squeaking annoyingly.
He was in his usual clothes, as was Aeyrin, but he had an unfamiliar fabric around his arm, functioning as the sling. It wasn't his old sling. And he still didn't get why his arm burned so much.
But other than that, there was nothing he could see. They didn't even sleep on their bedroll, apparently – their packs were both shoved in the corner of the chamber haphazardly, but it seemed like they didn't make use of them at all.
Weird way to camp. Did they just pass out here?
"Bish… where are we?" Aeyrin's groggy, hoarse voice interrupted his scrutiny of the area.
"I have no fucking idea," he sighed in response.
"I just remember… Rorikstead," she murmured as she stretched herself a bit in his embrace.
"Yeah… me too. Fucking weird."
"Maybe Jack had a point," Aeyrin let out another tired groan. "Maybe the rum is cursed."
Heh. It was a good point. Jack did mention that he often woke up days later in a strange place, not remembering anything. Hopefully it wasn't days for them, but still. They clearly had way too much of whatever they were drinking after the rum.
Whatever happened last night, they were safe and they were together.
They would surely find out where they were soon enough.