Beautiful Insanity (A Skyrim/Oblivion Fanfiction) ((ORIGINAL))

Russet/The Shrine

RUSSETPOV

"You remember what else they said you needed?" I called out to Brynjolf. In my hands I held a lesser soul gem and yarn.

"Somethin' about cabbage."

"Why would Regina want any of that?" Karliah questioned. Brynjolf shrugged, returning with a head of cabbage.

"Now, does the book say where his shrine is?"

"It says where Cyrodil's is," my daughter responded, leafing through the pages. "Right by Leyawiin. But not in Skyrim. I don't think there even is one." I let out a huff of annoyance.

"That was our last chance to find it," I hissed. "And I'm not in the mood to go traipsing all over Tamriel just to see if we'll be granted an audience." Brynjolf fixed me with a smoldering stare.

"Lass, if you want Regina back, we've got no choice. Why not call your dragons?"

"Odahviing has not answered my summons in a while," I responded dubiously, "and I don't know if Durnehviir would answer either."

"Just try." Karliah rolled her eyes. "Use that little spot that the Bards' College has for burning their king." I silently relented, walking out the door. Crickets chirped, unaware of my despair. I prepared my Voice, not having used it for many years.

"Dur... nehviir!" My Shout echoed off the buildings and the mountains. Despite disuse, it still managed to make the very ground shake. Seconds passed, and I decided to give up on Durnehviir appearing. Just as I turned around, the tiny stadium was bathed in a violet light. Durnehviir stared at me expectantly.

"Qahnaarin," he rumbled, moving his wing. "You call upon me for the first time in a decade. What has gone wrong?" I quickly explained my predicament, and the undead dragon seemed thoughtful. "Thuri, volz tozein lost kosaan vorohah. Worse times and mistakes have been made."

"But I've failed, damn it all," I swore. "Can you take me to Sheogorath's shrine?"

"Geh Zu'u fen. Vutharaak, Zu'u kent naav hi, Dovahkiin. Daar aal ni kos fos hi yah," he replied. Upon seeing my confusion, he continued. "Yes, I will. However, I must warn you, Dragonborn. This may not be what you seek."

"I don't care," I responded miserably. Brynjolf came out with the bag of offerings.

"I see he answered," the red-haired Nord commented, handing me the tan leather satchel. "Just... be careful, love."

"Always am." I kissed him on the cheek quickly before climbing onto the undead dragon's back. He flapped his wings a few times, and once airborne, headed for Cyrodil.

...

Durnehviir soared the skies, and my hair whipped around in the harsh wind. "Where is the shrine?" he rumbled, flapping his wings as we crossed into Cyrodil.

"My daughter said it was in Leyawiin," I replied, looking below me. "Or right by it, anyways."

"Then I shall fly you there." On the back of a dragon, it took just under an hour to reach the shrine of Sheogorath. The ground trembled as the undead drake landed. The many worshipers scattered in fear. I climbed down and walked up to the shrine, laying out the offerings.

"O, Sheogorath, Daedric Prince of Madness... answer my call." I waited several seconds.

"What are you doing?" one of the worshipers asked. It was a Breton male, dressed in a strange-looking dress with plenty of ruffles.

"I seek audience with Sheogorath."

"Why are you doing it now?" he wondered, picking up the skirt of his dress and twirling around. "At night! Nighttime is loved by Her! The beautiful Sheogorath loves the nighttime, it is Her domain! Her time of permanence!" I was slightly confused. It had said nothing about a time needed for an audience, but if that was the rule, then I would have to wait for several hours.

Or not.

"Tiid Nel Rahn!" I remained motionless as the world around me sped up. People milled about, unaware of the sudden disruption. I watched as the sun rose in the sky before falling down again, to be replaced by the moon. The Shout released, and I approached the altar again. This time, a booming voice surged from the statue. But the voice was not Regina's.