C.O.T.W Chapter 55: The Greybeard Taboo

  • Angeir held the mask at arms length as if it were a precious treasure, he carefully studied the yellowish hue glimmering about the

    mask's surface,

    "Krosis is the dovahzul word for sorrow although the enchantments on this mask do not exactly make him live up to his name. I do

    not know the history of the dragonpriests but I do know that he is widely considered to be one of the weakest if not THE weakest

    dragonpriest when he was alive. He wasn't into the magical arts or the art of the warrior like his brethren; Krosis and his brothers

    filled the three skillsets in Skyrim: warrior, mage and thief. In life, he was the best thief in the land." He looked sorrowfully at Tigress

    and Hasir who were leaning against the intricately carved stone pillars on either side of the double doors into the mountain top

    sanctuary, arms folded against their chests, "his brothers did not think stealth was a worthy skill to have; they thought that stealing

    from people and attacking from the shadows was the cowardly way out and nowhere near as chavelrous and powerful as the art of

    war or magic; they brought him to shearpoint beacon and left him while they sought fame and glory elsewhere."

     

    Both the Argonianand Ka'po'tun looked at him like he said something utterly filthy,

    "Er, what is 'Dovahzul' exactly?" Hasir asked

     

    Angeir looked at him as if he had stepped in some kwama dung,

    "Dragonborn surely you have heard of dragon speech?" He thought more on this, "Ah yes, forgive me, you have the dragon soul, this

    much is true but you have yet to be brought up to speed on the dragon language. Well you are in luck, I have a library dedicated to

    both that subject and maybe even that of which you seek." 

    Hasir's brow furrowed as his clueless eyes bore into Angeir's old and wise eyes,

    "Whoa, hold on a minute, did you just say you say you KNOW about the doomstrider?"

     

    Angeir nodded and craned his neck toward the argonian. He said he did know about the Doomstrider. He traipsed around the

    courtyard saying that the greybeards do more than siit up her shouting at the sky all day. He answered Hasir's confused look with a

    wide smile. He knew Hasir would be overjoyed as he heard that there was a library even if it was not a library as he knew it. The

    only library he saw was the one in Skaal village a few years ago so any Thu'um library would be an improvement over the one on the

    isle of Solsthiem even though that one was nice too.

     

    Angier stopped traipsing and gestured Hasir and Tigress inside and directed them to their seperate rooms and told them they would

    have to wait for Hasir's final test until the morning as they have had enough excitement for today and that he had to retreat into his

    chambers to study the mask further so he can think up where Krosis' brothers went after leaving him to die in that snowy clearing

    the Argoina and cat-creature vacated merely an hour before. They waved curtly to each other and parted ways.

     

    Before Hasir went to his room, he walked by the indigo khajiit and beckoned to him to follow. Inigo opened his mouth to ask where

    they were going but Hasir just shook her head and pointed in the direction they were going. Inigo wondered exactly where they

    were going when they turned around and walked into Tigress' bedroom hallway. As they walked past a stone wall, a stone door

    appeared stretching from floor to ceiling interwoven with curvy nordic symbols. Inigo started to decipher these symbols, even though

    he did not even known what they said. Hasir pushed the massive doors open and stepped inside. Inigo started to stride past the

    door when one of his clawed hands grasped his shoulder and pulled him inside the room. 

     

    The room they now stood inside had walls fashioned from the same stone as the sanctuary itself and ceiling, high arched windows on

    the far end, stars and crescent moon clearly visible in the black sky outside. Wooden bookshelves with books stretching upwards

    towards a ceiling cloaked in shadow as far as the eye could see assaulted their eyes. They also saw red carpets running down the

    middle each of the four aisles. Hasir looked up and gasped, there at the end of the room were steps leading to a stone platform with

    a wooden table and three stone chairs upon it and a little further on was an wrought iron spiral staircase that wound upwards to a

    balcony that was also cloaked in darkness, light came from lit torches set a few inches apart on the walls in intricate metal brackets.

     Hasir walked lightfooted through the room so as to not rouse any unwanted visitors. Inigo followed him and his foot got caught

    under one of the carpets running the aisle to the far right as Hasir spilt off and took the one in the middle. Hasir ran his claw along

    one of the many rows of books with titles both in the common tongue and the dovahzul or 'dragon voice.' Hasir took a book from the

    shelves and, to his surprise, he did not find the usual head of a creature with gemstones for eyes upon this cover nor would he find

    anything of the sort on any of these books. He frowned and then shrugged the disheartening thought away and cracked the book

    open.

     

    A plum of dust erupted from the book like an ancient volcano and made Hasir cough horribly. Hasir began to read the book and then

    realization washed over him like a bucket of cool water: he did not know the first thing about reading Dovahzul. Nonetheless, he

    tried to announciate the syllables, though it was vastly different from the language he knew; either in the common tongue, his

    Cyrodillian one, or even the blackmarsh language; which he did not remember because he was just a few hours old when he had to

    flee his swampy homeland. His tongue got tied a couple of times trying to pin down the closest pronuniation he could muster. 

     

    With the syllable pronunciation down, even if he said them wrong; he did not care just so long as he got the gist of what the book

    was trying to convey. He then strung two 'syllables' together and finally was able, well, kind of able, to read a sentence and then a

    paragraph and finally a whole page from the book. He shook his head, tossed the book aside and reached for a book higher up

    on the wooden bookshelf and grabbed for it. He finally extracted it after many minutes of pulling from different angles. He hopped

    down from the shelf and, in the aisle that was just big enough for him and maybe a small cat to walk down, cracked open the book

    and again, a plume of dust billowed up from the yellowing pages of the book. 

     

    Hasir closed the book and looked at the common tongue title, it read "The Greybeard Taboo" in shining silver lettering. Hasir's eyes

    went wide with stunned recognition. His mind ran a million miles a minutes as he itched to read this book but had to stop himself, at

    least momentarily, because he had other questions that needed answering and he thought some of these books held the answers he

    sought. He found another book two books from the one he had just extracted, the binding read "dragon priests: The keys to the

    great portal." He stacked the heavy, many paged book on the taboo book. He used his enhanced sense of smell he had gained from

    his wolf blood to find the last book. His picked up a smell of shadow about six inches to his left, in the third aisle of bookshelves

    bordered by stone. 

     

    He followed the scent; he ran past numerous bookshelves, past the raised stone platform at the end of the room and to the

    bookshelf where the scent originated from. He reached for the book which he thought would bar his approach by some immovable

    barrier. He extended his arm as far as it could go, though not far enough that it became dislocated. He finally grabbed the book on

    the out-of-reach shelf; then something happened that made him recoil in fear. A shadowy khajiit face with red eyes flashed back at

    him. Hasir denied this and quickly reached toward the book again and, despite the pain that shot through his hand, like burning

    electricity, he pulled the cursed black leather bound book from the bookshelf. 

    Hasir tried to put the book on top of the other two books but he could not; the burning electricity kept his hand clamped to the book.

    He heard an impact of fur on metal and heard a 'thump' of something else clattering to the ground. Though waves of pain shot from

    his hand, making him grimace, he tried to use his ehanced hearing to determine where the ruckus had come from and tried to

    figure out what made the clattering noise. He tried to wiggle the book free from his hand but still his hand was clamped around the

    book against its will. 

     

    Inigo lay sprawled on the floor near the dropped torch. He gave a squeal of fright as he looked wide eyed at the torch, its flame just

    inches from the carpet he lay near. He scrambled to his feet and, hands shaking, he picked up the torch, almost dropped it and

    fumbled as he set the torch back into its metal bracket. He ran over to Hasir as he heard the long, drawn out cry that made a tear

    come to his feline eye. A few seconds later, the khajiit rounded the corner and among the narrow aisle walled on either side by

    bookshelves, saw an Argonian kneeling on the red carpet runner with tears welling in his eyes. This alone broke Inigo's heart. The

    khajiit walked down the aisle and kneeled beside the argonian and helped him up the stone steps and to one of the chairs

    surrounding the table. The worried khajiit took the chair opposite his friend, wrenched the books from Hasir's grasp and put them in

    the center of the table.

     

    Inigo did not feel the electricity that plagued the Argonian when he had extracted the book from the shelf. Hasir stared at him mouth

    agape,

    "Inigo, how did you do that without the book shocking you?" He asked him, drumming his claws on the table

     

    The khajiit said that he did not know exactly but asked the Argonain why he felt the electric hold of the book,

    "I-I dunno," Hasir stammered, "I was reaching for the book and the next thing I knew, I saw the face of a khajiit's face and then I

    felt a sharp pain flow through me. It was as if he were trying to trap my soul." This was met by a concerned look from Inigo as his

    orange eyes bore into Hasir's blue ones, "What, you didn't feel it?" He asked again, forehead furrowed.

     

    Again, the khajiit shook his head, making his golden earrings swayng like they were trees in some fierce wind. He looked

    concernedly again at Hasir,

    "My friend, are you sure you are okay?" He asked Hasir

     

    Hasir got a little heated and the wolf inside him snapped at Inigo,

    "I'm fine Inigo! By Hircine leave me be, will you? All you do is ask endless questions, don't you ever listen?"

     

    This sudden outburst of anger was met by nothing but the turning of pages as Inigo cracked open the cursed book. He spent the

    next few hours reading the book that, unlike the other books, was transcribed in the common language known as Tamrielic. Hasir's

    head dropped onto the table's wooden surface as his heavy eyelids and tail drooped as he difted off the sleep.

     

    Hasir's eyes snapped open as he heard noises outside of the room made him look up in fright. He shoved all but the book entitled

    "The Ideal Masters: Aedra or Daedra?" into his bag because he did not feel like feeling that horrible, soul wrenching sensation again.

    Inigo smiled and nodded knowingly at him. He shoved the book in Hasir'bag where it lay nestled between the first two books.

     

    He caught sight of the windows where the sun reached its spindly fingers across the table. Had they been at this all night? He

    yawned widely showing fang-like teeth. They had no time to ruminate on this as they knew they had to exit as the final stage of his

    training was today.

    Hasir and Inigo slipped out of the intricate doors and waited for the place where the doors were to become solid stone wall again,

    completely indistinguishable from the set of doors it had been before. They walked down the steps to the main room and came face

    to face with two lamplike eyes with red pupils,

    "Tigress, hi, er, nice to see you again." He said nonchalantly as he did his best to hide the doings of last night 

     

    Tigress folded her arms and her eyes bore into his, forcing Hasir to back up a step,

    "What were you doing last night?" She asked as her eyes bore into his. Hasir noticed she was tapping her foot as if impatiently

    waiting for something, "You know we still have training left to do and here you stand, drenched with sweat as if you did something

    you have choosen not to tell me." Well, care to tell me why you had me frantically looking around the entire monastery for you?

    Even Angeir was worried sick. Now you should not keep him waiting. He is in the courtyard ready to train you in on your final test."

     

    Hasir narrowed his eye and let out a hiss like an angry cat. Tigress rounded on him, "Don't you hiss at me, young hatchling, I

    was not the person who was in a restricted area of the monastery was I? Now get you scaly but up to the courtyard and don't let me

    catch you wandering in off-limits areas agin! Do you hear me? Now go!" She exclaimed pointing toward the double doors. She was

    angrier than she had been in weeks and the voice in her head telling her to get her emotions to be at peace with one another was

    not helping.

     

    Hasir's head sagged completely with his tail tucking itself between his legs as he slowly walked over to the double doors and opened

    one side of the doors and stepped into the snowy courtyard. Hasir went up to where the greybeard stood waiting for him. Unseen on

    the bench by the door, the form of an elderly Argonian unfolded itself, opened its eyes and sat up to watch. 

     

    Minutes later, Tigress walked out into the courtyard and Angeir asked her if she was ready to undergo the test, she nodded and he

    repeated the question to Hasir, who also nodded in assent,

    "So, dragonborn you have fully unlocked the unrelenting force shout but have not yet unlocked the entire whirlwind sprint shout. No

    worries, I will empart my knowledge of it to you." A bluish orange ghost aray of dragon scratches appeared several feet in front of

    the aged greybeard and he instructed Hasir to stand inside the pulsating aura; he did so and the orange-blue tendrils filled his body

    and the chanting again sounded.

     

    Angeir smiled and patted the dragonborn on his shoulder and looked at Tigress,

    "Good, now let's begin the final trial." He gestured the courtyard at a whole. Hasir gasped as he saw one dragon, two dragon priests

    and a giant unknown being made of shadows.

     

    As they closed in for the kill, the Argonian readied his iron waraxes as the shadow beasts closed the distance. Hasir tossed the

    waraxes aside and pulled his quiver and bow from his bag, slung the quiver over his shoulder and hefted the bow. He knew that he

    could not take on all of the beasts. He came up with the strategy to take the dragon out before moving on to the other creatures. He

    nocked an arrow and fired. The arrow flew toward the beast and bounced off of its scaly hide harmlessly. Hasir reached into his

    leather bag pulled out a book, opened it to the first page and immediately a bluish-orange aura surrounded his Argonian form. His

    eyes slammed shut and saw the words in his mind's eye and felt them as the familiar bluish-orange tendrils filled up his body. He

    took a deep breath.

     

    JOOR ZAH FRUL!

    A purplish wind broke free from his lips that flew like a bird fleeing from some loud noise and enveloped the dragon; it struggled

    hard against its bonds roaring with pain and not able to take the purple lightning-like pain anymore, it crashed to the ground, kicking

    up bits of snow as it came to a full stop. Hasir looked pleased with himself but could feel waves of heat eminating from the

    greybeard who stood to his left. He did not want to look in his direction. He ran toward the rocky wall and ran up it and flipped off

    of it, nocked an arrow, drew his bow and fired the arrow straight into the dragon's eye which settled into it's brain.

     

    The dragon roared in pain and then slumped to the ground. an arc of bluish wind rapidly shot from the dragon to the Argonian's

    body, quickly absorbing it but something was wrong-Hasir was blasted backward; the Argonian bounced in the snow and settled

    unmoving in the snow. Tigress and Angier ran to his location and felt his body. His scales were still warm but he did not wake up. 

     

    Angeir turned and looked at the purplish black dragon with red eyes and shouted three words of power that Tigress had not heard

    before blasted toward the dragon; the beast deflected this easily and it blasted back on the greybeard. Angeir took another deep

    breath,

     

    FEIM ZII GRON!

     

    Angier become see through and took on a bluish color. He had to hold the shout inside his mind in order for the shout to stay active.

    Hasir and Tigress gasped as the oncoming deflected shout passed right throug him and dissipated on the wind. The greybeard

    lowered his arms and let the shout slip from his mind and he become solid again.

     

    Now it was Hasir's turn to show the intruder what he was made of. Hasir got up and grabbed his previously discarded waraxes and

    ran at the dragon who was still roaring in pain from the projectile potruding from it eye, blood pouring from its snout and painted the

    snow red.

    The Argonian leapt up onto the beast's head and drove the waraxes deep into its skull, hands held high like an idiot who was about

    to act on pure adrenaline and sliced the dragon down the middle like he was ripping a shirt into two semetrical halves. while the

    dragon soul exited the torn stomach and flew like a bluish wind toward his body filling him up with that warm feeling and he heard

    the familiar chanting in his head. He leapt off of the dragon which was now nothing more than a giant winged skeleton and sheathed

    his waraxes.

     

    Angeir walked up to him and patted him on the shoulder and smiled,

    "You did got dragonborn, but," He gestured to the dead dragon, "that wasn't the final test."

     

    Hasir's mouth fell open; not the final test? If not that, then what was it? Hasir could do nothing but stared at Angeir in disbelief as he

    tail thumped in the snow behind him in annoyance. He asked Angeir what his final trial was but all the greybeard said was that he

    will reveal it when the time was right, when was the right time? Hasir's mind was working overtime to solve the riddle.

     

    He turned and went to leave when he caught a familar Argonian he has not seen in years out of the corner of his eye; he went over

    to her and hugged her. Hasir asked his grandmother how she found him and why she came to see him,

     

    She smiled warmly and embraced him,

    "Why would I need a reason to visit my grandson?" 

     

    Hasir looked sidelong at her and chuckled,

    "Come on, what did you really want to tell me?"

     

    Ocheeva scratched her head trying to remember, Her face suddenly brightened "You have an illegitimate clutch sister, isn't that

    wonderful?"

     

    Hasir was thinking of his conversation with the slaver. His train of thought crashed spectacularly,

    "What?" he asked, confused. He had not even heard of him have a cluth sister before

     

    Ocheeva smiled at her green scaled grandson, eyes shining brilliantly,

    "You heard me. Apparently your mother had sex with another Argonian before she met your father." Ocheeva glanced over at Hasir,

    tail hanging limply behind her, "Xuth, the waters sure are murky, how can you not know of your siister?" She asked him, head craned

    like one of the birds an outsider might find in her swampy homeland. 

     

    Hasir narrowed his eyes at her while his tail slammed down, causing the snow to be displaced around where his tail struck,

    "It is not like I grew up wirth her, Xuth you're thick." All the tension left his tail as his head drooped onto his chest. "I mean, erm,

    sorry about my hotheadedness, but I met her."

     

    Ocheeva gaped at him, a bit confused,

    "What do you mean you already met her?"

     

    Hasir moved closer to his grandmother and told her of the day when he met Khash while they were imprisoned as slaves. Ocheeva's

    eyes filled with tears as she lent her head on his shoulder,

    By Sithis, that must've been terrible, meeting Khash like that." She said, looking up at him 

     

    Hasir gave her a smile, hugged and kissed her,

    "It's okay, she kept me from going mad." He released her and chuckled. "Before I met her, I'll admit, I did feeel hopelessness and

    the prospect of never being resuced but there was a glimmer of hope that widened ever since I started to bond with the little lizard."

     

    He beamed at her, looking into those aged amber eyes,

    "She hehelped me find strength to overpower the slavers and escape."

     

    They both sat silent for a time. When Hasir could not take this any longer, he told Ocheeva of the plan he had heard from one of the

    slavers that had captured him; Ocheeva gave a shriek of horror along with a retching noise that she had to stifle with a raised hand.

    She put a gnarled hand on his shoulder and looked sorrowfully at him,

    "Hasir... I-I-" She started, but she just silently shook her head and slumped back onto the bench. In a whisper barely audible, even

    to his suppernatural enchanced hearing, she asked him who precipitated this attack on Blackmarsh. Hasir whispered the names into

    Ocheeva's ear membrane.

    Ocheeva broke down on the spot, crying into Hasir's furred armor,

    "By the nature gods, please no. This can't be true, it just can't." Hasir patted her back saying that was also his reaction when he first

    heard about this. She lifted her horned head, nodded and wiped tears out of her eyes with a sleeve of her red and black jumpsuit.

     

    She turned to him, eyes now dry, and told him about how she feared this would happen. Hasir asked her what she meant. Ocheeva

    took a deep breath an told Hasir that the outsider always looked down upon the Argonians because they thought they were nothing

    more than uncivilized reptiles that had to be shown how to live the proper way. Ocheeva looked over to the Argonian and shivered,

    "That's not even the worst of it. They also want to remodel our homeland and ways of life (religion, way of live and even clothes) to

    better fit their own rather than have us help the outsders see things of our point of veiw, broaden there tiny minds to the Argonian

    way of life." 

     

    She started to sob, forcing Hasir to throw his arms around her, comforting her,

    "It gets worse than forcing their way of life upon us. Everday, outsiders threaten to burn down our housepods, destroy the hist trees

    by destroying the very thing that connects us to our ancestors that reside in the trees: Mnemic eggs." She sobbed even harder at

    this.

     

    Her face darkened fiercely and forcibly grabbed Hasir by the collar,

    "If they destroy the Mnemic eggs, we cease to exist, the marsh will remain, but..." She trailed off, sobbing heavily into her hands

     

    Hasir looked at her, his tail snaking around Ocheeva's ankle,

    "...but life will be a large hole devoid of sentient reptilian beings, right?" He asked, giving her a knowing smile

     

    Unable to find her voice, Ocheeva merely nodded. Hasir hugged her tightly saying that everything will be okay,

    "Don't worry, we Argonians are hardy people, remember?" Ocheeva removed her head from behind her hands and nodded, "We will

    drive the outsiders. We have done for centuries." He chuckled at this and fondled her grandmother's head and kissed it.

    Ocheeva's tail snaked around Hasir's ankle,

    "Thanks egg-kin, I needed cheering up, so, again thank you." She lent back and smiled to herself, knowing everything would be

    alright.

     

    Hasir smiled and said he was glad to help. Ocheeva looked at the dark green Argonian and asked him what happened to Khash after

    they escaped the mine which served more as a distraction moreso then an actual tool to break their will. Hasir turned to her and

    said that he and Khash parted ways soon after, he to Akavir and she to Skyrim as per their 'agreement.'

     

    Ocheeva asked where she went as Skyrim was a big place. He told her that she went to Riverwood to an inn there. Ocheeva gawped

    at him and asked what the inn was called because she had just seen the bit of Skyrim between her journey from Oblivion all the way

    to the Throat of the World monastery.

     

    Hasir told her that the inn was called the sleeping giant. Ocheeva roared with laughter, slapping her thighs,

    "The sleeping giant? What a dumb name. So what, do they have beds for giants to take a nap between threatening those that

    frighten their mammoths?"

                                                                                                          

    Hasir lost his temper again and blew up on Ocheeva,

    "No, it's just a name. They don't actually have giants staying there you crazy Argonian." He yelled as he stormed past her into the

    main hall of the monastery.

    Ocheeva rolled her eyes as he passed and went inside the monastery after the Argonian. Once she stepped into the main

    hall of the monastery she grasped the impudent Argonian by one of his bone spikes and dragged him up the steps to the second

    floor, sat him down hard and took her place beside the Argonian who was busy massaging his bone spike as it hurt terribly due to

    the force she had grabbed it with,

    "By Hircine, Ocheeva, what do you think your doing?" he asked, still massaging his sore bone spike

     

    Ocheeva turned to him and fixed Hasir with a stare that could sour mead. She gestured to the double doors at the end of the main

    hall,

    "Mind telling me why you were all in a huff and stormed off then?"

     

    He turned to her and asked why neither she nor Tigress told him that he had a clutch sister. He had to pause momentarily and tried

    to keep a level head to avoid blowing up on her again. Calmy, he told his grandmother that if she had something on her mind

    she should have just told him and not kept it until the last possible minute. Ocheeva folded her hands on her lap and thought to

    herself who conjured the shadow dragon, surely it wasn't the greybeards? 

     

    Ocheeva thought of something and beckoned her grandson to follow her. They ran down the stairs and up another set. They walked

    slowly past the solid wall were he had seen the secret library. Ocheeva and Hasir screwed their faces up in thought. How did he and

    Inigo get into the library last time? He did not know. After a few minutes of trial and error, they sat on either side of the door and

    looked rather disheartened. What if the library was not there any longer? What if the greybeards knew that it was he who found the

    place meant to be kept secret?

     

    All of a sudden the membranes in his head expanded so that a loud rumbling of shifting stones could be heard as well as the sound

    of nodric designs rotating into place. When the sound had ceased, the Argonians turned into the place where moments before there

    had been a solid stone wall. Ocheeva gasped in awe at this but Hasir smirked in bemusement and put a clawed hand on the stone

    door and pushed.   

    Ocheeva stood stock still, her mind too befuddled by the sensory overload. Hasir smelled the familiar scent of books and felt like he

    was back iin his happy place, well, after cooking that is. Her turned to Ocheeva and asked where they were there. She said that she

    wanted to know where the purple and black dragon came from. Hasir nodded thinking he understood and then promptly shook it. He

    hadn't the foggiest of what she meant.

     

    Ocheeva split off from Hasir who had settled into a wooden chair by the door and was busy walking down each aisle looking at each

    of the books and shaking her head at each bookshelf in turn. She walked up the spiral stone stairs and to the second level situated

    high above the first floor. From this vantage point she could see the tops of grey stone bookshelves and long red carpets running

    along the aisles. She smiled warmly as she saw Hasir who was humming softly to himself. She momentarily forgot the reason she

    came up here then she remembered. She walked underneath a sign that read Daedra and Dark Dealings and walked down the red

    runnered stone aisle walled with black bookshelves with books bound in black fabric with titles scribbled in orange ink as through

    they were written with the very fires of Oblivion. 

     

    When she neared the end of the aisle a book caught her eye. It was wrapped with dark blue fabric with dark blue, almost purple,

    on the binding that read The Dreamstride. She extracted it and stuffed it into her leather bag she had set at the foot of the bookshelf

    and strode back the way she had come. Hasir got up as the elderly Argonian approached him, her tail swaying happily as she

    walked. Ocheeva finally reached the spot where her grandson stood, his tail swayed back and forth like hers and exited the library

    and entered the main room of the monastery.

     

    Hasir abruptly grabbed the aged Argonian by the arm and spun her around,

    "Why did you drag me to the library? What did that prove?" He spat at her

     

    Ocheeva tore her arm from his grip and rummaged into her bag now slung over her shoulder and extracted the dark blue book

    from it and handed it to him. He looked at the book perplexedly and waved it in front of her face, asking her was the book was for.

    She told him, rather airily to try opening it. He did as she asked and opened it. Immediately a realm of bright purple assaulted his

    eyes. He slammed the book shut and, again, asked his grandmother what she was insinuating.

     

    She whacked him over the head with her leather bag,

    "You stubborn reptile, don't you ever use your brain?" She asked, scowling at him

     

    Hasir's went red in the face and his tail slid between his legs,

    "Erm, I use my brain, but-" He started but Ocheeva scoffed at him

     

    She started assaulting him with her bag again,

    "You stupid hatchling! It was a rhetoricle question, you know a question that does not warrant a direct response." She said angirly as

    she spotted Hasir's confused look. She raised her hands in exasberation, shaking her head.

    Hasir hissed and said he knew what a rhetoricle question was. Ocheeva grabbed him and told him that the realm was called the

    Quagmire or the dreamstride to the layperson. Hasir hissed soflty at her and strode past him and toward were Inigo sat.

     

    The khajiit turned to him,

    "So my friend how did your trial go?" He asked, a furry eyebrow raised

     

    Hasir shook his head and waved a dismissive hand,

    "I didn't have my test, but, instead I saw a purple and black dragon" He did not know where the dragon calm from. Inigo shifted in

    his seat as if this wa mildly interesting. Inigo requested the book and Hasir handed it over. Inigo cracked the book open with a black

    clawed hand and upon seeing the picture on the inside cover and began teetering on the bench trying not to fall of. Inigo failed to

    find his center of gravity and fell off the bench and accidentally sat on the book.

     

    Hasir shook his head looking livid, bent down and picked up the book, he frowned as his clawed finger traced along a large crack that

    formed in the middle of the book. Inigo gulped loudly and the mad Argonian rounded on him, eyes glowing with the fires of Oblivion,

     

    Inigo backed into a wall adjacent to the bench as Hasir advanced on him eyes narrowed. The scared khajiit began whimpering softly

    and covered his face as he thought Hasir would hit him. He did something far worse than that, he wounded the khajiit emotionally,

    "You clumsy fool, you cracked the book, I thoughr you were more competent than this." He shook his head, "I guess I was wrong. I

    hate to break it to you but I only travel with companions who are either bright minded or at least THINK before doing something. I

    am sorry Ingo, but, maybe we should part ways."

     

    Inigo looked utterly terrifed at this sentence that dripped with malice,

    "N-N-No, please, I can change, I know I can. I-I can do better if that is what you want. Please do not send me away. I have no

    where else to go-except for my cel-but, erm, I'd rather not go back there. I thought we were friends."

     

    Hasir blanked Ingo's pleas of apology all the way down the corridor as he and the unseen khajiit, or at the very least he wanted him

    to remain unseen in case he did something he might later regret and entered the room he was offfered at the monastery. Inigo

    strode over to the bed that was 'his' and sat down on it working hard to not let Hasir know tears were pouring from his eyes into his

    black furred armor. His tail even resisted the urge to flit around happily, it lay stretched out behind him on one of the many furs that

    lay on the bed. 

     

    Hasir floppped onto his bed without so much as a word to Inigo, who continued holding back tears. The book, which was being

    uncerimoniously clamped between his right arm and his side, fell with a muffled thud on the wolf fur that lay upon the straw filled

    mattress and fell open, Hasir conjured a small ball of light that hovered inches above the book. This was the only light in the dimly lit

    room and highlighted the large crack that spread sideways through the binding of the open book. 

     

    Hasir turned at Inigo, wrinkled his snout and hissed loudly at him,

    "You stupid landstrider, don't you dare break anything else that isn't yours. You are a worthless sack of kwama dung! HSSSSS!"

    Inigo lay face down on his bed, folded his arms and the dam broke producing floods which flowed from his eyes and soaked his

    furred arms which soaked up the water like a sponge. Hasir did not take notice of this as he was too busy pouring over the book to

    even look back at the khajiit or even care if he was alright. All he seemed to care about at this current time was figuring out who

    sent that dragon. Just then, Hasir heard a voice inside his head telling him to rethink his actions and to not send the only friend he

    has ever known away.

     

    The voice was that of Quinchal, his grandfather, they was always his moral compass-besides Ingo-when he started to lose control

    of his emotions,

    "Hasir, do not let your soul be overpowered by Yin; let them both shine in equal parts and then, and only then, can you see the

    beauty of the whole symbol."

     

    Hasir screwed his face up in thought,

    "...but grandfather how do I do that?"

     

    The voice came back bigger than before and somewhat colder too,

    "The river does not ask the heavens which way it should flow. Figure it out."

     

    The Argonian got up, strode over to the distraught Khajiit's bed and, patting him on the shoulder, said he was sorry for the mean

    and hurtful things he said. Inigo got up, smiled broadly and hugged him.