-Within-

Glowing orange and green encircling the four. Darkness all around, the world outside so very far away in this moment. Stratos, now sitting with them, gestures. "See," he says quietly. "What I was, before. How very different, that Stratos could not see the butterflies. Did not know the glory of showing the world what he must." A bright flash of blinding light and when it fades, there is but a memory. One that moves and pulses and engulfs all of them utterly.


-Artaeum - Ceporah Tower

Stratos stands by a bookcase with a book open in his hands, scanning the pages. He has short silver hair, not a strand out of place. His psijic robes, perfectly in order. With a small nod, he closes the book gently and places it back on the shelf, spending a few moments to make sure it is perfectly aligned with its neighbors. At last satisfied he turns and pauses, one eyebrow raised at the man leaning near the round doorway, noting the man's lack of Psjijic robes and the fact he is just so out of place here. "You are not supposed to be here," Stratos says calmly. "Depart from our tower, lest I call the Ritemaster.

The man stares at Stratos and then barks out a laugh. "Do you have any idea who I am?"

Stratos folds his arms across his chest, once more raising an eyebrow. "An intruder who is not meant to be in our sacred place. Again, I ask you to depart."

The man's jaw drops and he throws his head back and laughs again, the faintest trace of madness lurking within. "You...You...YOU!"

"Depart," Stratos says once more.

"HOW CAN YOU BE THIS..." the man trails off and throws his arms up and starts to pace the room. "How how how how how? I have been here, there, over there, in a goat's eye, but you are the sanest and boring mortal I have met IN A LONG DAMN WHILE. WHY? Why why why?"

A frown now from Stratos as he slowly unfolds his arms and reaches for his staff and then pauses as if thinking better of it. A closer look at the man's eyes, and he reassesses the situation in a blink. Not a man. But how could one such as he enter here? Protections, not to mention Artaeum is a hidden land. "How...," Stratos says before he trails off. The balance of the room has shifted. He had noticed it as he read but taken no action thinking it was nothing of importance. Artaeum was a strange land, after all. "Of course. We are not on Artaeum in this moment." Eyes narrowed he moves to turn towards the pacing man he now knows is a Daedric Prince. "Sheogorath, Prince of Madness. What could you want with the Psijic order?"

Sheogorath stops pacing and stares at him. "No screaming, no begging, no frightening whimpers? Are you sure you are a man and not a statue? Or cheese! No wait, cheese would not be this boring!" Sheogorath hisses and then crosses his arms. "Why did I pick you. Why why why?" With a shake of his head he sighs. "It is done. I cannot undo it! You, mortal! I need a book. I need Loremaster Celarus's journal. I cannot bring the room it is in HERE, so you will go fetch it for me."

Stratos Firn takes a step closer to the Daedric Prince. "You wish me to steal from my fellow mages, for what must be a nefarious purpose?" Stratos responds.

"BORROW! And it is not for a nefarious purpose! It is for a good purpose! Cheese and cats and everything else!" Sheogorath explains.

"Borrow without asking. Using such means as this." Stratos says. "In other words stealing." At the Prince's murderous glare an eyebrow once more raises. "What purpose."

Thinking he's getting somewhere Sheogorath grins. "The best kind of purpose! To cause chaos, insanity, to change the predictable path! And trust me, YOU WILL NOT LIKE THE PREDICTABLE PATH." Sheogorath pauses and tilts his head. "Well, you might. You are the most dreary and boring mortal I have run into since Shally. At least Shally was fun. You? Just..." he closes his eyes and makes a shooing motion. "Just go get the book so I can forget you exist mortal. You make the air itself SANE. I cannot STAND IT!"

Stratos folds his arms across his chest. "No," Stratos says. "Return me or do not. But I will not steal from my fellow mages, and I will not give anything to a being such as you."

The air seems to vibrate as the Daedric Prince's eyes narrow at the outright refusal. "You best change your mind mortal. Or you will regret it...or perhaps you will not!" Sheogorath shouts.

The Breton's eyes narrow as he stares back at the Prince, not a hint of fear on his face. "If you could make me, you would have by now. No."

"No, no no!" Sheogorath repeats. "Now, now, NOW you have angered me mortal! You sane boring thing!" The Daedric Prince throws his arms out and butterflies shimmer into existence and surround Stratos in a tornado of flapping glittering wings. "You know sanity. Now know insanity, you foolish mortal!"


-Stormhaven-

A small but well-ordered house. A home. Stratos glances around. A place he had not been here for a very long time. More than a Breton's lifetime. With a slight frown, he walks to the fireplace, touching the bricks there before turning his head to the next room. A boy with pale blonde hair sits at a table, buried in a book why his mother cooks dinner. "Illusion. A very good one," Stratos says as he turns toward the corner of the room, where Sheogorath leans against a wall arms crossed.

"You...," Sheogorath says as his eye twitches. "Even as a boy, you were boring! Did you not want to be a knight, a king, something?"

"My path was clear to me," Stratos responds. "What greater pleasure than exploring knowledge?"

Again the Prince's eye twitches. "This is all gone now! Dust and nothing more, and you have NO living family, no relatives, NO ONE!" Sheogorath declares.

"The past fades to memory and words on paper perhaps," Stratos responds. "I lived here, yes. Grew up here. But that was a very long time ago."

The Prince stalks up to the Breton and stares him in the eyes. "Not a hint of regret. Of sorrow. Of what is lost and can never return!" Sheogorath spits and then throws his hands up in the air. Butterflies, once more, and when they fade the mage's guild in Stormhaven conelesices around them.

An older Stratos, hair more silver than blonde now is engrossed in a pile of books, all attention on searching for...something. And unlike the current Stratos, this one's robes are disheveled and dirty and his hair is wild and unbrushed. All of this brings a smile to the Daedric Prince's face. "Obsession! I like this!" Sheogorath declares. "Obsession is one of the many paths to madness!"

Stratos crosses his arms across his chest. "It did not in this case," he says and then turns away from his past self. The past plays out as it did that day. On some level, he had heard the two men talk about him, but he was utterly lost in trying to find just what made him, for only the second time in his life, so off-balance.

Guild leader Galtaihe looks over at Stratos and then back at the visitor, an Altmer male with graceful delicate features and braided blond hair. "He claims he saw something impossible, Itelas. He has been obsessed with it ever since," he says with a frown. "Stratos Firn is our most level-headed and studious mage. I have never seen him like this. I fear for him. He's been like this for weeks."

The Altmer turns his attention on Stratos Firn regarding him carefully. "Many things in this world are possible. But there are things that travel beyond that border. A man such as he...one with a mind so set in reality and order as you described to me..." Itelas trails off and frowns. "His mind may very well be destroyed if he stays here. And yet if I bring him to my Order, it still might. I am not sure his mind is one that can bridge this gap."

"Try," Galtaihe says firmly. "I have guided him since he was a young boy, after his mother passed unexpectedly. To see a mage of his caliber to be reduced to this..." he sighs. "He is almost a son to me. If you can help him, you must."

Itelas gives it one last thought then nods. "He will be an assist to us...if he can accept reality as it can be, not just as it is." With that, he walks over to Stratos and stops, hands behind his back. "What did you see?" he asks the distraught Breton.

Stratos jerks his pale blue eyes wild as he stares up at Itelas. "I... words, there are no words! But it was real. And yet it could not be. I have to find it. It has to be real. If it is not real...I..." Stratos trails off looking utterly lost.

"Come with me," Itelas says. "I will show you a different view of the world. We will see if it brings order back to the chaos you are drifting in. But... you will have to give up this life. You very well may never return to your homeland, to those you care about."

Stratos blinks and looks past the Altmer to his mentor who looks back at him solemnly. "Do what you must, Stratos," Galtaihe says quietly. "Let this mer save you if he is so able."

"Order..." Stratos whispers. "I lost it. It has always been there. Everything is in order. Those things that are not can be researched understood and put in order. This...I cannot find order for it." Stratos locks his eyes on the mer. "I will go with you."

The phantoms of the past fade leaving the mage guild empty once more. Sheogorath stares at Stratos. "You could have been mad! You could have been mine, and instead, you went with sanity?" A frightening grin from the Prince of madness and the butterflies explode around them once more.


-Artaeum-

In one of the many rooms of Ceporah Tower, Itelas stands by the wall as he watches Stratos pace back and forth. "You have seen with your own eyes that a place such as this exists. Inbetween realms and perhaps in some ways time itself. Try and explain what you came across on Nirn."

Stratos pauses and tries to bring forth his thoughts from the chaos that has all but shattered his mind. "Time...it was as if time broke. Mythic figures from the past streamed by me as if spirits, but they had such presence. And then the sky itself changed! Icy blue, Daedra all around, and yet this was Nirn, I know this. And then everything..." Stratos trails off and looks helplessly at the patient Altmer.

"No words. I understand, use the best words you can," Itelas says.

"Exploded. Not...that is not the right word. But I do not have another," Stratos says. "And then all was...silent and dead. Not a single living thing all around me, and somehow I knew, not in all of Nirn. But that is not possible! And it kept going. Fire, then darkness, then The moons themselves shattered in the night sky above me! And so much more!" The wild look intensifies as the Breton stumbles backward against the wall.

Itelas carefully regards the Breton's words then walks quietly to one of the many bookshelves and takes down a book.

"We are careful in our selections. So very careful. The power we have... the temptations to use it unwisely. There have been mages who have lost their way. Sees-Into-Infinity was one of them. An Argonian who could see the streams of time in a way we've never encountered. The Argonian's, you see, have a altogether different grasp on time, but he could see past that. We thought to give him purpose, but his unique gift drove him insane and he did the unspeakable. We almost failed to stop him." Itelas explains and then turns to Stratos. "Most mortals were unaware of what nearly happened. But you must be attuned. You saw time nearly break. Shards of the past, possible futures that may be. I suspect you saw far more than a mortal mind can process." he turns towards Stratos and hands him the book. "Galtaihe told me of you, a little. Books soothe you, guild you in the chaos of the world around you."

With shaking hands Stratos takes the book and opens it. Long moments pass as he reads and slowly the wild look fades and the promise of calm passes through his eyes as he sits at a nearby table. "It...it makes sense now. I could find nothing that made sense of it back in the Mage's Guild." As Itelas sits across from him he looks at the Altmer carefully. "When I was very young I wanted to be a knight, like my father. The tales he would tell! But it was all a lie. He was not who I or my mother thought. When she found out, he nearly killed us and only a passing mage saved us. Galtaihe. This truth made no sense at the time. This loving honorable man was nothing but a murderer and a lier. Galtaihe saw my world break. Saw I would drown in the truth, and he brought books. So many. Those books brought sense and order into the world again. I wanted to seek out knowledge from then on." A deep sigh and he pushes his hand through his hair. "I am not sure I belong here."

Itelas raises an eyebrow. "It is a rare mage that answers the Psijic's call. You, whether or not you like it, are attuned to time. Here, we can teach you about it, show you how the impossible is possible and how it works, how to understand it. So your mind will bend, and not break."

Stratos puts the book down and a serious expression comes across his face. "That is what I want. But...I need to righten myself. I fear I am in need of a wash and new clothes."

Sheogorath turns to Stratos as the scene fades. "The impossible! That is what made you CRAZY!" A small evil grin crosses the Princes face.

Stratos folds his arms across his chest. "My mind was straight before Itelas found me. Now I understand the impossible. You cannot break me."

The Daedric Prince stares at the Breton and then laughs. "You...you...you do not think I can... Oh little Breton, let me show you how wrong you are! I'll show you things so impossible, THERE IS NO BOOK TO EXPLAIN ANY OF IT!" the butterflies rise from the ground and engulfs Stratos once more.


-Shivering Isles-

All around the Breton, the butterflies fly. A tornado that seeks to engulf him and yet he stands calm in the middle of it all, arms crossed a slight frown on his face as his eyes seek past the butterflies. The sky overhead is a deep violet with intense glowing pink stars. Trees and mushrooms grow against the laws of nature. Sounds that defy explanation, grass that whispers as if it is alive. "You think a Daedric Plane will break me?" Stratos says. "Even the strangeness of such a land can be explained. The Princes may be beyond full understanding, but not without reason. There is reason to them and this place as well."

"YOU DARE CALL MY REALM REASON?" Sheogorath's voice echos. "And of course, I did not expect you to fall screaming at my realm. You are a tougher cheese to crack!" The Daedric Prince's insane laughter echos and the butterflies start to glow eerie blue. A glowing piece of cheese flies by Stratos, and then a cat with the tail of a cow. "EXPLAIN THIS AND THIS!"

Stratos raises his eyebrow and remains impassive. All of this can be explained so easily. The Daedric Prince of Madness created it, therefore it is known why. And as the Prince creates more and more bizarre things, a small smirk crosses the Breton's face.

A flying cow bursts into butterflies and slowly the glow fades as the butterflies drop one by one to the ground leaving Stratos with a clear view of Sheogorath, whose eyes slowly start to glow. "Might break this part of my realm. Maybe something else. Might not! All my minion's eyes may explode. Or they may turn into cats! I do not care! You defy me, mortal, you DO NOT GET TO DO THAT! NO MORTAL CAN DEFY THE PRINCE OF MADNESS!"

The sky above glows bright purple and then seems to explode. The pink stars start to rain down all around Breton as reality itself seems to unravel around him. At last Stratos's eyes show a hint of concern. "Stop this now and return me," Stratos says. "You are m..." he trails off and his eyes widen slightly.

The Prince throws his head back and laughs. "OF COURSE I AM MAD MORTAL! I AM THE PRINCE OF MADNESS YOU FOOL!" Sheogorath says as his laughter sheers through the air.

The air shimmers and then it is as if everything explodes, though that is not the right word at all. Images, things that should not be, flecks of reality, and unreality swirl around Stratos in a maelstrom as the very realm shivers. The Breton tries to back away, and when that fails tries to close his eyes but there is no escaping it. For a moment it is as if this realm and Stratos himself is, and is not at the same time. As the storm reaches crescendo Stratos throws his head back and screams, sanity bleeding away as his mind shatters under the assault that is very much impossible. A blinding flash of light and a shattering that can be heard in every corner of the Shivering Isles and then, at last, all falls silent.

The grass huddles together under the trees and mushrooms, who are bending in natural ways as if to escape the unnatural storm that has passed through. Stratos lies on the ground eyes closed. Slowly he opens them and sits up, his eyes no longer any kind of sane at all as he looks around. "Cat," he mutters as he stares at a grey tabby with black stripes that is staring at him with wild eyes. "I should do something. I..." with a small smile he stands up and rips his robe off, the rest of the clothes following.

"YES, THAT'S IT!" The cat declares, his voice Sheogorath's. "SHOW THE WORLD YOUR GLORY!"

Stratos laughs. "I am a naked Breton!" he says as he whirls. "And you are a cat!"

Sheogorath blinks his eyes. "And not even the right cat! I am a cat to the cats, but you are not a cat!" he moves around in a circle and then yowls fur raised. "Someone got mad at me! I NEEDED TO BREAK THINGS TO BREAK HIM!" he yowls at the sky and then eyes narrowed, unable, beyond any reason and logic, to leave the cat form he is in. "Well, no matter! Mortal, you know what you need to DO right? Besides show the world...that."

Stratos stops and stares at the cat, then nods. "You want the book. Why not? A cat should have a book. It makes no sense, and it makes all the sense!" With a laugh, he turns and opens a portal vanishing within."


-Within-

The memories fade and as the three Argonians stare at Stratos, he stares right back. "To think I was so trapped," Stratos says. "Now, now I am utterly free. Free of the prison of sense and logic. Free to show the world my glory...and other things that I must do."

Books blinks her eyes rapidly. The Breton does not seem to...mind? She glances over at Cheese and Licks. Licks gestures to Stratos then to his head. Madness...is why the Breton does not mind being broken and cursed in such a way. To his mind, this is his reality and it is as it should be. But then why...all of this? With a hiss, she runs her hands through her feathery crests as she raises her eyes with the mad Breton. He wants her to go next. The last thing she wants to do is share her story. Her...mistakes and pain. And yet, he showed them. A glance at her fellow Argonians. Pain in their eyes, hesitation, and yet there is also a sense of resolve and...relief. Relief to finally share with others who may understand. With a swallow, she nods. "I...am from Bright-Throat Village," she hisses and then closes her eyes as her memories erupt all around them.