Topic: Nagaiki to Han'ei

NightRunner

Date: 2015-03-10 19:28 EST
Nagaiki to Han'ei
Puppeteer

"I don't want to be an angel. I want to be God!"
--Helloween; I Want to be God






Awake. Asleep. In between.

It didn't matter, somehow, that he couldn't figure it out. His body wasn't his own at this moment, moved and manipulated like a marionette upon strings. And somehow, he knew he could trust the hands at the end of those strings.
Those hands whispered to him, rumbling in distant thunder and touched as light as a feather. They soothed away memories as memories came, and they taught new ideas. They solidified him and moulded him. He was the possession of those hands to do with as those hands desired.

?You belong to us. We will not leave you.?

?Who are you??

?Teachers.?

?Mine??

?Your teachers. Listen to us. Trust us.?

?Khajiit cannot trust...?

?Zor-Sithis, you trust??

?Yes.?

?We bring a new voice. Trust him. He is with us.?

?Khajiit will try.?

?This is good. Now, let us teach. Do not think of the past. It is behind you.?

?Betrayal leaves its shadows...?

?They are irrelevant.?

?How??

?They made themselves irrelevant. The fault is theirs. Look forward.?

?Onward??

?Yes, onward. You grow stronger.?

?How? This one has changed...?

?You have changed for the better. Let us hold you...?

He drifted, exploring his newness. He explored the transformation slowly creeping through him as his beloved armour crawled across his body. The stone now affixed to him pulsed, sending tendrils of itself out across his flesh. It was strange, that the thing which kept him alive was now one with him, as if that demon Silver had never taken his tri-heart.
As if he had never been betrayed that first time.

As if he had never made that terrible first mistake.

And he wept for it, childishly wishing for that room in the abandoned castle in the middle of nowhere with his ever-burning candle. He wished foolishly for that broken place where he could be hidden. Before the Tavern. Before that living ship. Before the space-warship.

?I am here.?

Whispers came from the hands guiding him as he moved through Tamriel like the ghost many thought he was. Tamriel became not-Tamriel. The flora smelled not like itself and he felt the heaviness of going underground again.
He heard Falmer go silent and seemingly let him pass as one of them. Machinery began to hum and rumble around him. Steam hissed in his ears. Metal clanked below him.

He almost didn't feel himself gently lower to his knees as movement ceased. Before him, stood another group of individuals, one he had a strange pull toward.
Zor-Sithis stood encased in a column of glass and smoke.
A tall woman in black floated beside him on the left.
On the right, a tall, slender man with sleek black hair and pointed ears eyed him with a kind of detached compassion.
Behind them all, a creature of metal stood. This creature stood tall enough that its deep, resounding voice seemed to come from miles above.

?You are with us. Will you surrender to us??.

NightRunner

Date: 2015-03-14 05:13 EST
Nagaiki no Han'ei
Heart and a Spark

"Stand and fight, say what you feel
Born with a heart of steel."
--Manowar; Heart of Steel






?Will you surrender to us??

Surrender to us...

The mere thought of what that suggested sent a shiver down K'Rhenne's spine. He had been enslaved before; he had known the collar's weight more than once in his life. Yet to be willing to it, even if the collar wasn't a literal thing frightened him. Independence was too hard-won. Freedom from the demons of his past had only just been his.
The voices spoke individually after an interminable silence.

?We do not enslave. It is illogical.?

?Why would I seek to withhold freedom??

?You need not fear, Steel Ranger.?

?What is...What is it you wish from Khajiit?? his voice echoed haltingly back.

They did not answer him. In silence, they moved to surround the Aberrant, enclosing him within a circle of flesh and metal. Confused, K'Rhenne listened and let one hand drift to his back, fingering the little device there. He could call his armour at a mere thought, a mere word and he knew it would protect him. That little thing at his back ensured that he could, yet nothing so far indicated such a need. Nothing yet.
Around and above him, the voiced began to chant. Sometimes in English, sometimes in languages he had never heard before.
Hands of flesh gently persuaded him to lie back. The hands were gentle, almost assuring as he found himself lying against a distinctly metallic object.
Another hand?

He couldn't tell.

The hands moved again, grasping arms and legs, splaying the Aberrant across this metallic thing and a thrill of fear washed over the Aberrant of nature. He dared to speak again.

?What is this??

?Be calm, pupil.?

He fell silent, unable to stifle the tremor against the hands holding him down. Silence then reigned for what felt like an age until the Aberrant noted a faint, steady thrumming.
It echoed from somewhere far above him, yet deep within him. It grew steadily in intensity, sounding off like a trumpet before a war. The Khajiit Aberrant found himself wailing against it, with it. He was buried in the sound, buried in the sensation of his life-giving mineral seeming to grow hot and icy cold all at once.
It was bliss. And it hurt too badly to do more than concentrate on breathing.

His Solidity came into question, blurring in and out. Transcendence seemed to come and go at the whims of those holding him, directed by the one above him. He felt the burning hot-cold spread to the rest of himself. Words filtered through to his vague sense of awareness. The words themselves sounded, tasted, felt terribly alien, yet he desired them. He desired these words, that they be as much a part of him as his Bluesteel Armour had become. As much himself as his own identity. The words thundered from a voice he reckoned, was that of another god. A god of metal and heat and light.
And he wanted the words.

?Spark. Ignite.?