Topic: Of Nothing and a Missing God

NightRunner

Date: 2014-01-22 23:06 EST
Of Nothing and a Missing God
Elsewhere and Elsweyr

"It is Transformation that begins and ends all things. Beginning is change, Ending is change. All things merely change, Transform."






"Atahva? Atahva, come. Come, come!"

Jonoud and Jotha scurried to their mother's house at the edge of Alabaster. Their excitement showed almost to the point of obnoxiousness that only children can reach. Atahva and her sister, Tsavori looked up from their work at the twins as they bounded in with pleas to come.

"Jotha, Jonoud. Please, kittens. Calm yourselves and explain to Khajiit what you wish," Tsavori spoke first, as the elder of the two sisters.

"A creature. Hass'Qanar and Omashi are already there. The creature. Khajiit saw the creature come from the sea, as driftwood from Black Marsh," breathed Jotha.

"Yes. Khajiit is correct. A blue creature. Jonoud thinks it is dead."

"Dead? You are certain, yes?"

"No, Mother-Atahva, Mother-Tsavori. Jonoud did not see the creature move."

"Come, then, kittens. We will consult Hass'Qanar Sava and Shojo Atani. They are Khajiit elders, yes? Come. Lead us to this creature."

The small group of Khajiiti left their comfortable home and moved through the streets of Alabaster. They enjoyed the walk amid keeping the twins Jotha and Jonoud in line. As they progressed closer to the beaches, the females noted the presence of a small group ahead of them. Tsavori picked out the Elders immediately.
As they came closer, Jotha noticed Omashi'Ran knelt over the blue anomaly, examining it.

"Is it alive?" Jonoud's small, mewling whisper carried a tiny tremor. Too young to be exposed to the Gladiators, he had not yet seen a dead body, or one alive but wounded. The worst he and his brother had known were sickness and the eras of poverty everyone faced at least once in their lives. His brother clutched paws with him as the Elders looked up.

"Yes, as far as Khajiit can tell. Alive, but in need. Kittens Jotha, Jonoud, we reward you for bringing Elders. But, Khajiit must warn you now, to stay away as we keep this creature. We may need to consult the Deep Studies."

The Deep Studies. It was their way of referring to the long-dead Dwemer ways of Science and soul stones. It was the way when Magic could not be enough, rare as that was. Here, the Khajiiti family stood in awe of a creature that repelled all things deemed Magic by is own body. It struggled to survive, straddling a gray line between here and another place. Between here and the After.
It rejected Magic. It welcomed the Deep Studies. Hass'Qanar Sava picked up the unimaginably light creature. Omashi'Ran, Shoja Atani and Zahr Ma'Vani followed solemnly behind, as if they were carrying one on the verge of death. Atahva and Tsavori led their kittens away in silence as Jotha threw a glance up at the Twin Moons and his brother gave voice to the prayer within both siblings' hearts.

"Massar, Secunda, Mother-Cat. Grant this one's solemn prayer. Grant Life to our strange visitor. Khajiit does not wish death."

NightRunner

Date: 2014-01-31 18:41 EST
Of Nothing and a Missing God
Ja'Kha'jay Aberrant

"I am a part of you, little mortal. I am a shadow of your subconscious, a blemish on your fragile little psyche. You know me. You just don't know it."
--Sheogorath; The Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion




Zahr Ma'Vani waited as she watched her Elder, Omashi'Rahn examine the creature on the table. It was most intriguing, reacting in its skin colour to emotional stimuli. When the being's skin had turned red and had shown signs of what any being could identify is sickness, or an immune response, all acts of Magic had been immediately ceased. She wondered how they planned to revive the creature if Magic was a harm to it.
She was shaken from her musings as Hass'Qanar Sava passed her, carrying a distinctly Dwemer-made crystal.

"Come, Zahr Ma'Vani. Bring the other crystal," Shoja Atani whispered.

Zahr nodded. As she fetched the required crystal, she got a look at the creature and the items surrounding it on the examination table. It was surrounded by similar stones and bowls of moon sugar.

"What will happen now?"

It was a question all of them wondered but only Zahr Ma'Vani could bring herself to ask. She watched as the various gears, rods and mechanisms were manipulated into place above the prone creature. This was the alternative to Magic and Hass'Qanar Sava remained in a pensive silence. Beside him, Shoja Atani glanced out of the nearest window to determine the placing and phase of the Moons. She motioned Omashi'Rahn over and the two connected thin wires of bronze and moonstone to their strange guest.

"The moons are out, yes?" Shoja asked.

"Yes," Zahr replied. Her voice barely rose above a whisper.

"What phases do they hang?"

"They are strange. Neither shine, yet I see the outline of Alignment. The Third Moon is not here."

This was a conundrum. The Mane had been born more than thirty years ago already. Yet this creature was assuredly not Khajiiti. It appeared to them, more like an aberration of the Falmer. Hass'Qanar Sava placed a moonstone diode upon his forehead and one more on the patient. With a lift of his hand, everyone was silenced.
This was a new science, a new art. New technology to the Khajiiti and few in Elsweyr walked the way of the scholar as they did.

"This one will attempt the Diving. Be silent. Shade the windows."

Shoja, Zahr and Omashi'Rahn moved quickly to follow Hass'Qanar Sava's order. This was too new for anyone to witness. As the shades fell and the doors locked, Shoja stood at the creature's head, carefully feeding it bits of moon sugar.

It was time to try. Hass'Qanar closed his eyes and pressed the small cyan button that activated the Dwemer-built machine. It was his only way to tap into what the creature was without it being awake to speak. Assuming it could speak. Assuming it wasn't on the way to death already.

NightRunner

Date: 2014-02-03 19:28 EST
Of Nothing and a Missing God
A Hand in the Void

"M'aiq has heard it is dangerous to be your friend."
--M'aiq the Liar; The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim




Hass'Qanar walked carefully through a mist-shrouded world, unsure of what to expect. Nothing around him represented visual understanding -- it was all too bright, too dark, too chaotic and too plain all at once. He heard colours rather than saw them. He smelled blood. He heard voices and tapped into memories. He read letters penned in ink that could be touched,
Letters that made him weep. Messages to a dead man that would not rise again in goodness. Letters that brought darkness, betrayal and twisted corruption. The Khajiit wondered briefly if this creature was part Falmer. Part of The Betrayed.

He wandered onward, finding reverence. A being whose name was never known. A wizard who understood this creature's ways. Who led him on a path to redemption. He found colours that sang a melody of power tempered by mercy, tempered again by justice.

"You are who, yes?" Hass'Qanar whispered into this strange void.

His reply was this endless void itself. It shaped around him, twisting into the events of life that shaped the very halls of nothing he walked through. He watched as it sang to him of a vivid, advanced culture -- a race so detached from all other planes of existence that they had been nicknamed The Isolations. It was a race powerful in its own right, in a place and time where things thought intangible by most were made tangible. Beings built of emotion as if emotion itself was flesh and blood. It was, for them. It was a place, a species, a culture, that had its own dark days. That rescued itself from annihilation more than once. Yet one time stood out above all the others -- the one time this culture's very Deities intervened. The one time that changed this race forever and held a seed of its own elimination later on.

A race that this being was the sole survivor of. This being, within whom he stood, held the knowledge and ways of his people on his shoulders. He couldn't pass it on. He couldn't lock it up as a secret except within himself. He couldn't tell others stories of it, for he had none to hear them.

Hass'Qanar walked onward. When he stopped, he found another reverence. It was for one that had long since died, that along with his extinct brethren, held a standard of loyalty that none other could match. He felt, heard the anguish of Death. Permanent Death here. Non-Existence here, and the will to keep going.

The Khajiit backed out with a howl and wept as the connection broke.

"Hass'Qanar?" Shoja asked.

"The creature... It is like a Falmer, and not."

The Falmer. The others in the room stood silently, digesting what that meant. Anatomically, the creature was obviously unlike anything they could understand. Yet from its past...
Hass'Qanar quietly recounted what he had found. When he had told them of his last finding, the group came to a silent agreement.

He would be as Khajiiti, but unlike even the Mane.

He was to be Dagithay-Raht.

They gave him the name K'Rhenne a'Noctis.

NightRunner

Date: 2014-02-05 22:31 EST
Of Nothing and a Missing God
The Long Now

"Logic is the beginning of wisdom, not the end."
--Leonard Nimoy




They stood around the Aberrant on the table. They stared down at the quiescent Aberrant and had given it a name, had given it a Khajiiti breed of its own. With moon sugar in hand, the group alternately fed it to the creature and bathed it.
Shoja and Omashi'Rahn marveled at the creature's blue skin and the occasional flashes of colour that passed upon it. They took care around the creature's many scars. Zahr Ma'Vani fetched a skooma-based salve to apply. It wouldn't be rid of the horrific scar tissue, but it would help to soften the rough skin there and, perhaps, restore some flexibility.

When they reached where his hearts ought to be, Hass'Qanar recounted the vague bits of anatomy he had learned from his terrifying yet enlightening walk 'within' such a creature. A heart-complex was supposed to reside there; a trine of three hearts separate yet joined by a massive vessel. Yet it was not there, instead the hollowness was filled -- barely -- by the shining mineral deposit. It was this that kept the Aberrant alive.
Yet now, this was not enough.

"This one suggests further assistance."

"Yes, Shoja. This creature has not a soul. It has not the eternal self granted by the Moons," Hass'Qanar replied.

No soul. Nothing eternal after a body's death. This Aberrant was its own soul and body, for there was no separation of the two. The two were one. In this dangerous oneness, there was no hope of Life Thereafter. The group balked at the question that came to their minds, but Zahr Ma'Vani forced herself to ask.

"And the body?"

"From what this one gathered.... Dust."

A shudder rippled through the group. As one, they prayed to the Lunar Lattice, to the Mother Cat, to Alkosh and, for one of them, to Sithis. As they finished bathing the creature, Hass'Qanar moved to the secret door in his house wall. It was a long chance.

"Bring the Aberrant."

The order was obeyed without hesitation, yet Hass'Qanar knew the questions that roiled in the minds of his colleagues. As the door opened, the Khajiiti walked solemnly down a set of crude-cut stairs; Shoja closing the secret door behind her. They ventured into the underground places where few in Tamriel dared to go. The crude cut of stone soon gave way to an artisan's touch. Dwemer stone and metal surrounded the group as their passage ended. A chamber expanded before them, replete with Dwemer craftsmanship and engineering, somehow blending with the austere beauty of ancient Falmer influence. Hass'Qanar stepped forward first, calling into the chamber's expanse.

"Ncharmek! Edhethring! We Khajiiti ask of you your presence!"

The group didn't have to wait too long. The walls ahead seemed to groan as an impressive door swung slowly open. The pair called upon entered with an unusual dignity.
One was a tall, strikingly pale individual who stood a good six and a half feet tall, wrapped in the austere glimmer of ancient Falmer attire. The gender was near indeterminate even when the being spoke. The other was shorter by only a few inches and looked like something out of Earth's own Sumeria. His face was angled, adorned in a thick, intricately braided beard. His piercing eyes matched the intensity of his companion's gray-violet eyes, but shone a bronze-brown. His imposing armour complemented the pale attire of his companion in a strangely beautiful way, but neither were garish or ostentatious.

The Falmer spoke first.

"What need, have you, of us?"

"This one and his colleagues desire to keep this creature from death."

NightRunner

Date: 2014-02-14 19:40 EST
Of Nothing and a Missing God
For Ye All Are as Gods

"If the doors of perception were cleansed everything would appear to man as it is: Infinite."
--William Blake; The Marriage of Heaven and Hell





Edhethring nodded. Ncharmek appeared to give no response. They had heard the answer of the Khajiiti conclave in front of them, bearing the body of an aberrant, one clearly not a native of Nirn. One hardly native, they surmised, even to Mundus or Aetherius Clearly an aberrant, but Daedra? They doubted it -- Daedra fell under the limits of their Daedric Princes and the laws of Magic, as dictated within this realm of existence.

They sought to keep life within this aberrant.

The Falmer and his Dwemer companion took the creature, leading the Khajiiti behind them, deeper into the stone-cut complex.

"What have you discovered of this being?" Ncharmek's voice was detached, analytical. This was, for now, a specimen to be figured out.

"Khajiit employed your device. The creature cannot handle magicks of any kind. Khajiit believes....Khajiit believes Mundus is not the only reality."

It was a belief few dared to express, even in secret, behind closed doors. It was a slap in the face to the Divines, Eight or Nine, and a sneer to the seventeen Daedric Princes. It was one that some had suspected, was at the heart of the Dwemer race's disappearance, but Ncharmek silently ruled that out. The Dwarven man knew the cause of his brethren's vanishing. He knew, but would not speak of it beyond these walls.
As they entered a chamber dominated by a strange Dwemer machine, Ncharmek and Edhethring stood at the head of the prone creature. Their Khajiiti companions took places surrounding.

"I am the last of Dwemer-kind. I am last but will not be the last in a secret, single line, guarding our secrets. Guarding Lorkhan's Heart and Numidian's bones," Ncharmek spoke in almost whispered tones.

"What will you do?" Hass'Qanar Sava asked.

"Numidian, Lorkhan, Magnus, Akatosh, Sithis are names of many. Names on the Scroll Edhethring and I possess. We are aware of other realms, as you have begun to be. We will keep the Aberration alive."

The Khajiiti conclave heard both Ncharmek and Edhethring speak simultaneously. Taking turns, they fed the creature moon sugar and diluted skooma. Above them, the contraption hissed with steam and creaked in movement. The group froze as metal diodes touched them. Bronze arms lowered between them, heralding the coming of a final appendage.
That final appendage descended, looking like a great bronze tree branch adorned with a gold-crested cocoon. With a sharp clank and resounding hiss, the cocoon opened.

Inside, lay an Elder Scroll.

No words were spoken as Ncharmek and Edhethring extended their right hands, taking hold of the Scroll together. They unrolled it, but none dared to read it directly. At a nod from Ncharmek, Hass'Qanar backed away, retrieving a cube from one of the few shelves in this chamber. He returned, placing it in a receptacle, indicated by the Snow Elf's nodding head.

With the push of a button, the Elder Scroll that would never be read, gave up its wisdom to the cube and the Dwemer's eyes. He read swiftly, uttering words loudly enough only for his Falmer companion to hear him. The others stepped away as the last feeding of moon sugar came to an end.

They were not to hear this. They were not ready for it yet. The Khajiiti instead, offered their own words.

"Jode. Jone. Massar. Secunda. Ja'Kha'Jay, the Aberrant is born. Mane, not Mane, we gift to the stealth of our Gladiator Warriors. NightRunners, of here and of the Aberrant's There. K'Rhenne a'Noctis." The words were simple, yet made no sense to those beyond the group, drawing on Hass'Qanar's walk through the Aberrant's past. Hass'Qanar led these words, assuring that the past of Veldri Niahar'dro, of Rhy'Din, of the Power remained intact. Remained part and of the present.
When they silenced, the Khajiiti turned their backs, unready for the final leg of what was to come.

Ncharmek and Edhethring silently commended their students; their wisdom in recognising what they were and were not ready to handle.

"The reading is done. Ncharmek, destroy the cube."

"It will be done, Edhethring. Do you have the mineral?"

Without a word, Edhethring carefully plucked at the creature's chest, drawing out the mineral deposit therein that had kept it alive for so long. He held it as if the mineral had grown fragile, beneath the Elder Scroll. Below his hands, his Dwemer companion lifted the cube, lighting it to a slow burn.
They didn't blink as a black hand print appeared on one of its six sides.

A black hand on one.

A strange silver-and-gold knot on another.

A white diamond on another.

A phoenix on another.

A winged unicorn on another.

A dragon on the final side.

They knew then, as the cube slowly destroyed itself, who would come to this creature's side. As the cube burned, nightingales called from a distance only they here could comprehend. The cube was by now reduced to a pile of ashes, if only for a moment. When that moment passed, the ashes began to liquefy into a brilliant red. This red came together, thickened.

The names were spoken.

"Akatosh. Lorkhan. Magnus. Nocturnal. Numidian. Sithis."

The Snow Elf lowered his hands to meet those of his Deep Elf companion. The mineral and the thick red substance met. A sound like shattering glass and a great roar took the chamber by surprise and a sensation that combined intense light with deep shadow enveloped the entire conclave of Khajiiti, Elf and Aberrant.

The mineral left their hands, falling back into its owner. It was still itself, but as it lodged back into its place, the mineral seemed to grow. It sprouted vein-like protrusions, snaking across the creature's front. It appeared as a beautiful yet ghastly web of this shining mineral spun across its host, forever embedding its life-source to the creature it belonged.

The light/darkness faded. The group composed itself as the Elder Scroll was cocooned again and the apparatus that virtually surrounded everyone and everything retracted. Brass arms folded away. Silence crept through the chamber. The Khajiiti resumed their places around the creature.

Edhethring and Nchardek stood at its head. The creature took its first breath as the filigree across its chest shone, given brightness and an eerie shine from its source.

The first thing the creature heard, was his name in both of its forms.

"Renne. K'Rhenne a'Noctis."

NightRunner

Date: 2014-02-17 22:53 EST
Of Nothing and a Missing God
Brass Doors to Walk Through

"What is better - to be born good, or to overcome your evil nature through great effort? ."
--Paarthurnax; The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim





"K'Rhenne a'Noctis."

The name was spoken by the Falmer first. Then the Dwemer. Then the Khajiiti with them. Renne lay, unmoving, on the table, listening to the group surrounding him. He had been in a fight, that much he knew. The comforting coolness of a metallic wristband reminded him of the Commander. It still held the faintest of tingles, a reminder that he was still the Steel Ranger. So the Commander had not grown angry with him...That was good. Very good.

"Renne. K'Rhenne a'Noctis."

He tasted the name, his own and the twist placed on his name.

The Falmer leaned over the one called Renne, called K'Rhenne a'Noctis. He heard the Falmer speak, and listened.

"We know who you are. We know not what you are, but that you are not from our Mundus or Aetherius. Yet you are here. We accept this. We offer you a name and a place under the Lunar Lattice. We understand Magic is to you, abomination. Fear not. We are technologically aware. I am Edhethring. My companions are Ncharmek, Omashi'Rahn, Shoja Atani, Hass'Qanar Sava, and Zahr Ma'Vani."

Those named, identified themselves in hushed tones.

"This one is Omashi'Rahn."

"Shoja Atani."

"Hass'Qanar Sava."

"Khajiit is Zahr Ma'Vani."

"I am Ncharmek, of the Undercities."

As the last one spoke, Renne -- K'Rhenne a'Noctis -- gave a weak nod of acknowledgement. He listened as another being entered the chamber and sniffed at him. This creature smelled much like the one called Edhethring, but...not entirely like him. This creature did not speak in words the blue-skinned one could understand.
Edhethring nodded, replying to this final creature.

"Yes. Truly blind, unlike the Betrayed. Yet like the Betrayed, like Trinimac, shaped by that which betrays him. The Falmer accept as one of their own."

His name was tasted again. Tasted, heard, felt. His name wouldn't be destroyed. It would merely be as it is, yet wrapped in the tongues of this place. He took it in silent grace as a second name, as valid as his own. K'Rhenne slowly sat up, shaking with weakness. He felt one of the Khajiiti offer support as another practically fed him a sweet substance. He accepted in silence, slowly eating this sweetness. It was pleasing, rejuvenating. He felt strength slowly return. He became aware of the change within himself.

His Lifestone had changed, had grown. He remembered words from too long ago, so very long ago now. The evolution of this mineral, should it become the life-source of his kind. It could evolve, fusing itself to the Solidity. It was a life-saving procedure, yet it from that moment on, could no longer be temporarily hidden in times of intense struggle.
A sacrifice, for something other.

At a final taste of this sweet, sugar-like substance, K'Rhenne asked in a less-broken way, of his name.

"This name, why?"

"It is our way of speaking of you. We welcome you, as Khajiit Aberrant. Dagithay-Raht. Like Dagi-Raht. Like Suthay. Like Mane, yet neither of all. Face and ways like the night."

K'Rhenne nodded, letting his strength come back to him. To experiment, test himself, he thought of this and tasted the word they gave him.

Dagithay-Raht.

Aberrant.

He was an Aberrant, even in his own lost kind. He relaxed, resting in the grasp of the Khajiit, who had not yet matched touch with voice, and took a self-check. His memories were intact. His body was intact. Everything he had was intact, and on his person.

"How does this one speak...?"

He hadn't spoken that clearly in years. His English was still quite broken, but now, the stilted ways of the Khajiit laced his tongue. To his memory, he had not yet begun to refine, and reclaim, his English skill.

"With the Moons, come knowings of our ways, K'Rhenne. With not Magic, but with Dwemer ways, we offer wisdoms and ways of speech," Shoja replied.

"How...How does this one repay...?"

"Keep knowledge for us. Keep it, take it with you wherever you may go. And do not forget, that to return here, would you be welcomed," Ncharmek spoke then, only barely cracking a smile.

"Rest for a night. Then, Dagithay-Raht, we will teach you."

K'Rhenne a'Noctis nodded, his skin flashing back stripes of pale blues and almost-greens. Although he wished to regain his mobility, he understood that for now, his strength had not fully returned. He lay back and let sleep claim him.
It was the first natural sleep he'd had in a while. Peace was not something he knew well, but tonight, he knew it, and was comforted by the deep, rumbling whispers of the Commander.

He was comforted by the Steel Power that had been granted him.

NightRunner

Date: 2014-03-10 21:25 EST
Of Nothing and a Missing God
And in a Thousand Battles...

"Regard your soldiers as your children, and they will follow you into the deepest valleys; look on them as your own beloved sons, and they will stand by you even unto death."
--Sun Tzu; The Art of War





"No. This is Nirn. This is not your world."

"I am aware of that. I have a charge here."

"You do?"

"The one marked by Steel."

"The Aberration."

"Aberration?"

"The one that cannot touch Magic. Without help, it will not survive long in this world."

"Then let me reach him."

"You cannot. This is not your world."

"What shall you do with him then?"

Silence.

"What shall you do with my charge?"

"Will you agree to our bounds?"

"What bounds?"

"Appear as we do. Take on a place here, temporarily or otherwise."

"Which place is un-taken?"

"The Void."

"I will take it."

"Can you? It is perceived evil."

"Darkness is not intrinsically evil, is it?"

"No."

"What is the name of this vacancy?"

"Sithis."

"Very well. I will take it."

"Enter in your way into Nirn, Zor-Sithis."

"That is the name I am to have?"

"Yes. The Missing God named you, not we."

"The Missing God?"

"Lorkhan. The Artificer. The Missing God."

"He is here?"

"Yes and no. Missing. Like your vacancy."

"A missing god."

"Yes. Where is your charge?"

"There. With the cat-men."

"He bears a name you bear?"

"In a way. The NightRunners of his past gave him a legacy. Those of here teach our ways. He will depart them soon."

"How soon?"

"Observe. He fights now in the ring."

"A gladiator. A slave?"

"No. The cat-men do not enslave. They do not do to others what was done to them, by the Dunmer."

"Understood. He fights well."

"Yes. He does not access that which you gave him."

"He earned it. He knows my tenets well."

"You have tenets?"

"Yes. Personal gain is not a sufficient reason to access what he earned. He knows this. Escalation of battle unless necessary is forbidden. He knows this. And he will not compromise his identification as one of mine. This too, he knows."

"Your tenets are strict."

"Yes."

"Zor-Sithis. Observe. He concludes the fight."

"Yes. The cat falls."

"He is Senche-Raht. 'Cat' is an unwise term for Khajiiti. It is a slur by the races of men."

"Forgive me my ignorance."

"It is forgiven. You now learn. That is Senche-Raht."

"What is my charge? This is not his true appearance."

"The moons, the Deep and the Snow have deemed him Aberration. Dagithay-Raht."

"Somehow, it is fitting."

"Yes."

"His name here?"

"K'Rhenne a'Noctis."

"You did not give him a new name?"

"No. His name, merely honoured by our tongue."

"Why?"

"He was close to death."

Regret. Guilt. Sorrow.

"You know of his near-death?"

Reluctance. "Yes."

"How?"

"I sent him on a mission. He was charged with destroying an evil being."

"Why?"

"This being caused terror and pain to other living beings."

"You sought to end that terror caused by this being."

"Yes."

"Why not do it yourself?"

"I cannot escape these confines. I speak to you through a technology."

"Like the Dwemer?"

"Something like this, yes."

"Are you confined voluntarily?"

"No. An adversary confined me, as I did her."

Sorrow.

"You could be free."

"I cannot ask that."

"Your freedom would cause harm?"

"The process of gaining my freedom would be the cause of much suffering. I will not be a parasite."

"Wilful confinement?"

"Partially."

"That is why you have your Steel?"

"Partially. To help me do what I cannot do alone. To help him discover what he cannot discover alone."

"You provide wisdom."

Modesty.

"You do. You are welcome here in both our ways, Zor-Sithis."

"Thank you." Gratitude. Humility.

"You care for your charge."

"Yes."

"You speak so distantly to him?"

"I must."

"You have other charges?"

"Six."

"They more directly need you."

Silence.

"They do not know of your Steel."

"No."

"Why?"

"My charge performs darker duties that those my Six perform. My Six perform in the open, despite their own identification secrets. They are a frontal force."

"And the Steel?"

"Can handle these darker duties. My six are not mature enough for them. They are...innocent."

"And the Steel is not?"

"Not in the way they are."

"He is the balance to your Six?"

"They are the blatant light. All light has a shadow. He is their shadow."

"Sensible. Do you protect them from him, or him from them?"

Silence.

"You love them all."

Silence.

"You favour neither the Six nor the One."

"No. All are loved. All are my charges."

"Can you handle the Steel's darkness?"

"Yes. He earned his place with me."

"And redemption?"

"Yes."




Below they who spoke, far below, the city of Alabaster roared its applause. The stadium thrummed with an intense energy, with the aftermath of a match. Two combatants stood in the ring's center quite incongruous to one another. The Senche-Raht stood as it was born to -- a massive Battle-Cat. His opponent stood small, barely three feet in height by contrast, yet it was the Senche-Raht that lowered his head to concede defeat.
His opponent bowed his head in return, offering respect and dignity to the Battle-Cat before him.

NightRunner

Date: 2014-03-10 23:19 EST
Of Nothing and a Missing God
When a God is Found

"Every parting gives a foretaste of death, every reunion a hint of resurrection."
--Arthur Schopenhauer




"You have done well, K'Rhenne a'Noctis. Your time with us draws to an end."

"This one will miss Aberrant Khajiit."

Renne -- K'Rhenne a'Noctis -- stood surrounded by the small group he had come to know as friends. Omashi'Rahn, Shoja Atani, Hass'Qanar Sava, Zahr Ma'Vani, Edhethring and Ncharmek surrounded him in a kind of semi-circle, with the Falmer and Dwemer at the head of the entire group.

"You are Aberrant. Of Falmer eye truer than Falmer eyes, of Dwemer ways, untainted by Magery and of Khajiiti. Mane of bloodline. Dagi-Raht of bone and Suthay of step. You are K'Rhenne a'Noctis, and will be missed among us."

K'Rhenne listened to the group speak, each adding his or her own words to what came out to be a united description of what he had become. What they had rebuilt, in a sense. These beings had saved his existence; he knew that. He knew they didn't ask for much in return for such a feat, but he was determined to do that one thing they had asked. His trousers; the one thing that wasn't replicated by his memory, the one thing truly a link to his native 'Verseworld rested comfortably on him. Within its pocket, he felt the solidity of the thing they called a scroll.

Keep it. Guard it.

It was all they asked of him. And he vowed to do that.

the group spoke on to him, but not in the English tongue he was familiar with. For a moment, he wondered how they knew English, but he quickly remembered a brief course in study with Ncharmek -- This world was, in many ways, like others beyond it. Humanoids developed and thus, developed language. The Mer, or Elves, had their own tongues unlike the ones he had heard before. Even the Drow tongues didn't match up to the Elven speech here, be it High, Wood or Dark Elven. The race of Man, he knew well and identified as Humans. Humans...neither endangered, nor indigenous only to the planet he had heard called Earth.
It was heartening and frightening. He wondered how weak the races of Man were here, but cast the thought aside for another time. He hadn't met any here, hadn't learned all of Nirn's ways.

In some ways, he didn't wish to leave the company of this little group. He didn't wish to go beyond the bounds of Elsweyr's warmth. K'Rhenne thought of making a life here in Alabaster, or another Elsweyr city. He could easily imagine it, actually, and part of him loved the idea of it. He could make a home here, without ties to betrayal, lust, deceit or death. He could make a home here away, afresh.
He could break the ties he had made in Rhy'Din, not that he had any left to speak of.

All ties?

The question rose in his mind like a great tree that could grow anywhere. It wasn't his voice that asked the question. It was another; one he had missed dearly. One he took joy in hearing, even in the grip of a mission, when all things had to be restricted to formality.
He no longer heard the Dwemer, Falmer and Khajiiti chanting around him.

All ties, my charge?

...No. You, One cannot do without.

As I would not do without you. Your time here is at an end, Charge, but I will meet you soon. Patience.

This one misses you.

As I do you. Patience, my charge. Patience.

In moments, silence reigned in the underground chamber everyone stood within. As one, the group of Khajiiti offered him a smallish satchel. He could feel its heaviness and wondered briefly at what it held.

"A gift from us, K'Rhenne a'Noctis. Some moon sugar for sweet comfort and metal, for whenever you may wish a blade at your side," Shoja whispered.

"You will not be alone. This one can sense it," Hass'Qanar added.

"A pair of Elsweyr earrings for Khajiiti Aberrant, to remember us by," Omashi'Rahn spoke hesitantly; his voice cracking.

K'Rhenne held still as Ncharmek and Edhethring came to his side. Each placed an earring in a respective ear, just below the beloved gold hoop he wore for the fallen one he called Bondbrother. They couldn't stand on par with him, though they thought of that fallen one as a paragon to emulate.
And, while they had learned his name, none would speak it.

As he felt the fang-like earrings go in, K'Rhenne shed a single tear. He couldn't stay here, as much as he may have wanted to. As much of a life as he knew he could build here, this was not his home. This was not where he could be forever, and only the deep, reassuring tones of his Commander kept him from weeping outright. They could not hear him, but he could. The weight of his silvery communication bracelet gave him comfort around his right arm.

And the fang earrings added a comforting weight on his ears.

"Farewell, K'Rhenne a'Noctis. To you, we will always be open," Edhethring and Ncharmek spoke together, as was their wont. At a cue, the entire group backed away and watched the one they called Aberrant. The one they called Dagithay-Raht. The one they called K'Rhenne a'Noctis.

He didn't linger after those words. Turning his back, cane in his left hand, K'Rhenne a'Noctis walked slowly up the stone-cut Dwemer ramp to the solid brass doors ahead of him. He knew they were there; he'd memorised the layout of this place a while ago. Still, he couldn't linger. Any hesitation and he'd never leave.
The heavy metal door swung slowly open at his touch -- his touch and a hinge lever pulled by one of the other Khajiit, to be accurate -- and he stepped out into the searing Elsweyr sun.
When the doors fell shut again with a low, thundering clank, K'Rhenne allowed himself to weep.

The two moons and many stars above were silent witness to his grief.

You are not alone.

Tears reflected tiny prisms of colour as they fell from his eyes, as he took slow steps farther away, distancing himself from the hidden Dwemer citadel that only a few in Alabaster knew.

Patience, my charge. You are not alone.

K'Rhenne walked on, letting the tears and the hours pass. His footprints in the sand were swept away by the light desert wind, leaving no trace that he had ever been here. Hours and minutes held little meaning as he walked, crying out a grief that he had known many times before. He could have had a home, but had to walk away. It wasn't the anger of facing betrayal. It wasn't the fury at a broken word. It wasn't the emptiness of finding a dead place, something that couldn't be rebuilt.
It was something he almost had, but could not have.

You are not alone.

The endless sand around him went unseen as he travelled north. It was a somewhat random direction, for he knew not where to go. He had no destination in mind, simply picked a direction and started walking after the Dwemer door had closed behind him. Sand began to give way to hardy grasses and at the sound of flowing water, K'Rhenne stopped, only then noting the exhaustion in his bones.

He didn't feel the slight change in the wind as he fell asleep. He didn't feel the sensation of not-quite-solid but strong arms embracing him. He didn't need to, as the familiar deep, rumbling voice whispered in his ear.

You are not alone, my Steel. I am with you.