Story

I remember the voice in the sap. It is something I have chosen to never forget. The thought that perhaps my life has been, decided, preordained like a written story someone obsessed over. Perhaps. But I would like to think there were, surprises. That perhaps it may only have been a basis, something to start off with, and what comes after is going to be unexpected. But what the voice echoed was at first, something I could barely understand. Words suggesting that my calling in life would be something with the power over both, but then I did not understand. Yet, I eventually took to the magical arts, and soon enough, came the knowledge of Necromancy. But my concern was not just with the dead, no it was with the living, as well. Most barely understand the practice of Necromancy, believing it to be this or that, and never wanting, or seemingly needing to understand. Just branding those practicing it as immoral, or simply just criminals. But is that really it? Is that all there is? Surely I never took someone innocent and began using their body, live or dead, for experiments. But to dissect the dead, to understand what lies beneath this pile of viscera we walk around in, perhaps that, I did. But those were never innocent souls - far from it, in fact.

Though they could barely understand this. What they saw, was what they wanted. Black, bloody scales, a pair of blue eyes with only hints of curiosity, yet they saw anger and hatred. Though they were not strong enough, the will not being there. Just the words, for them, were enough. When I moved on, as I eventually would, I am sure they breathed as sigh of relief. I am not sure why, though there are those who can find issue with things they do not understand, as I said. But what I found of interest, was what I heard among peers. Others who practiced Necromancy. They all sought something, some power which I wondered, why? What was it for? Power for it's own sake? To be strong? To be respected? For what? 

This did lead to questioning myself. Why did I want power? Why did I seek this same power, even if I had no wish to perhaps, leave this mortal form, that they saw as limiting? The answer I found, was simple. The voice. The knowledge conferred by the sap. What perhaps gave me these vibrant eyes and dark scales. Life and death would be my concerns. That I would gain power over the dead, and I would admire and enjoy life. What I have to imagine though, is that these words are, not specific. They are a basis, and what I do with that, is my own. So I have chosen to embrace the practice of Necromancy, and I chosen to keep the touch of mortality, so as to enjoy it's pleasures. 

Yet, there was more. another phrase which it echoed, that I have yet to figure out. 'Black scales and Blue fur, both shall face the maze in the dark, and they shall find glory in the cold'.

Perhaps thinking I knew what this meant, I traveled to Skyrim, the home of the Nords. A land which, though having regions which were more than just snow covered wastelands, was known for snow, and of course, the cold. Then, I could not know how much of a mistake this would be, even if perhaps it would not mean my end. Instead, it could be considered a new beginning, as perhaps my work, and my life, had become very stale. Studies on magic, bedding women of various races, and even some men that took my fancy, and honestly, such encounters were rarely sullied with the offerings of coin. Along with the various traveling, and other things that had become quite tiring, although certainly that would not be something that suddenly stops. But one of those clothing bared exploits introduced me to the sister of a man, her brother, who had a job in mind. Which I had no idea if I was suited for, but upon telling him I was a mage, he made no changes to his offer, or retractions. He believed such skills could be useful. Though I neglected to mention my skill with Necromancy, as I did not think it would be that important. 

It was not too much time later where I was told I would have help, which I had no way of knowing if this was a sign that this man seriously wanted this job done, if he was willing to pay a generous amount for it's completion, and apparently, willing to pay in full, or rather, double, if only one of us survived. Granted, this did not fill me with fear. Why? I have long understood the concept of loyalty, and no matter if I am forced to work with someone, or choose to, I would not willingly betray them, or do so with intent or purpose. All the groups I have been with, all the people I have met with the the same interests as myself, I have never harmed any of them. So I was thinking that, in spite of the possibility that this partner of mine would not think the same way, I tried to think that I would not have to worry about it. 

But I was to be proved, wrong. No matter how it would turn out in the end.

When I met this, partner, for the first time. It surprised me. A Khajiit with blue fur, a pair of orange eyes, and a prominent scar on his face. This sight would stick on my mind, for two reasons. The first being is that I found myself, interested. But not just in the material - I wanted to know more. I wanted to know everything I could, which seemed to be an almost inescapable feeling. I kept thinking that this may be no more than a few days with this Khajiit, and then after our pay was collected, we might never see each other again. I was half distraught at this thought, yet tried to think more in a fashion which I knew as unbecoming of me. Just think about the money. Even with doing that, my thoughts never turned to greed. I was going to do the job, and collect the share I was offered. Nothing more. 

This Khajiit, Inigo, had other ideas. I noticed perhaps, what he believed that I did not. He was deep into a skooma addiction. I heard him mumbling to himself in the small hours of the morning, mentioning a, Felix, or something like that. A name? A person? Someone he knew? I had no idea. Yet I somehow kept forgetting to offer him help, mostly due to completing the first part of the job. Which, was to kill two men - both brothers of our employer, who believed that due to his brothers being drunken louts, they had less of a claim on their father's, or families' fortune. So he wanted them dead, and we were to kill them. Admittedly, the first one was easy. Inigo covering me with a bow, and I was in the thick of it with blade and spell in hand, and while it was Inigo who made the crucial kill, I still left him to it, mopping up the rest of the damned lout's guards. Or letting one or two of his own guards, risen with my magic, to do the sweeping. 

The second was less eventful, but similar. The only notable thing from that, was that like the first, we set the servants free, and after the target was ready for a coffin, one of the girls, at her insistence, was curious. She had lived a sheltered life in this keep, and had barely seen or heard of other races. But she was not interested in traveling with me, no. She wanted, me, for the night. I took her to the battlements, and gave her a cold, yet hot and sweaty night, wrapped in the embrace of black scales. 

Nothing entirely new for me, but something still rare even so. But I was not to focus on that part of what happened, for very long. For there is the second reason the sight of this Khajiit would stick in my mind, which cannot forget, though for a time, I did lack this knowledge.

It could be said that I should have acted. Should have done something about the problem that was, in a sense, akin to a knife to my back. But I did not. It  is difficult to consider who is more at fault for what happened - myself, or Inigo. If I had done what was possible to assist with his addiction, perhaps it would not have happened. But I failed to do so, and thus, he acted in his, perhaps greed. If he had come to me with the problem, he knew I was a mage, and perhaps knew I could possibly do something to help him. Though I can understand - in his eyes, the coin was far more important. I had seen others with similar problems, and the reason is not obvious - their head is not clear, not making the connections to improve their situation. Instead, the connections they make are to get the next bottle, the next few, and to stifle their nagging need for their chosen vice. 

So when he acted, I should have seen it coming. But he did not act for help, no. He acted to help himself, with the tip of his arrows. Not that one actually hit me, but from his perspective, it certainly did. 

The actual truth was that I fell. Perhaps further than a mortal should, though more a physical fall than any others I had taken. Some would call a choice to dabble in Necromancy a fall for any mage, but I disagreed. But this kind of fall, to me, seemed far more damaging. To what, exactly, took time to understand, but the answer eventually seemed obvious - to the mind. I had heard of a rarity in magic - that those skilled with it could, under certain circumstances, cause random things to occur, even things they consciously would not be able to do. Perhaps, I had done something to slow the fall, enough to survive it, but a side effect was a temporary loss of memory. One that persisted for at least three months, but that would be after I found some place safe to stay, hours later. In that time, I had found a small group of mages, who I understood to be more on the nefarious side of things, even in my condition. Perhaps any other would not be able to have joined, but perhaps it was to my luck that the mage outside this place, was female, and when I stumbled towards the cave, leaning on a rock in sight of the passage inside, I witnessed her laying on the floor of a ruined house, her robes open, and heard stifled moans of pleasure. Her hands worked over the fleshy slit between her legs, and I felt my body betray my weakened state, by forcing a tightness in my cock, and my mind drifted from the want for rest, to something else.

It as bold to stumble in her direction, and I believe her surprise was less than mine, when her reaction to me, was simply to stare. I waved, and then moved my clawed hands down to remove the rope holding my robes closed. When they fell from my shoulders, our eyes met for a moment, then I lost hers as they drifted down to my scaly cock. She sat up, and made it arguably worse for me, by first biting her lip, and then moving to her knees. Inching forward, she first placed a hand on my thigh, looking up at me with an expression that was a silent question, though neither of us needed it to be answered. 

Moving her hand from my thigh, she cupped my balls, rubbing her fingers over the back, rolling them in her palm. Her other hand grasped my cock, and she seemed to take some delight in briefly pulling the skin back, and exposing the head, and moving the flesh back to hide it. Then, she put her lips to the still covered head, kissing it, and letting her tongue find the opening to slip inside. She did not linger on this very long, opting soon to move her hand back to the base of my cock, and her lips to engulf my scaly cock as far as she could take it. Which was far enough to surprise me, but she was not going to end things off this quickly. 

Taking her hand off my balls, and my cock from her mouth, she looked up and me and smiled. "That is not the mouth I want to swallow you with." 

So she sat back on the ground, her robes splayed open on the wooden floor, and opened her legs to me . "Come on. I don't care if I have no idea who you are...but this will be a start."

I knelt, crawling over to her, and found she was only slightly shorter than me, which meant that she was just about staring at my neck or chest, once I was over her. I was going to take the time to ask if she was sure about this, when I felt her hands grabbing my cock. When I looked at her, she laughed."Most of the idiots inside, are only focused on studying magic, and I have not had a good fuck in months - and I've never felt one if you Argonians inside me." She did not wait for me to say anything, she put the head of my cock to her wet slit, and slid the head inside. I felt my mouth want to pull back over my teeth, and she placed her arms and legs around my back. "I want all of you..." She about whispered in my ear, so I obliged. Keeping one hand on the floor, I placed the other on her breasts, and she pulled my head to her face in at least an attempt at a kiss. She found particular interest in sucking on my tongue, once it found it's way into her mouth. 

"Oh by the gods, the scales...the smooth bumps..." She gripped tightly on my back, and used her legs to keep my balls against her behind.

The pressure was building, and I saw no reason to stop. I did become curious when she had seemingly removed one of her hands from my back, and I had no idea what she intended to do, at least not until I felt her tickling my balls. Though that was not entirely her intention, as when I looked at her, she smiled, though she did not say anything. I had the thought that she must have stuck a finger in her behind, but that seemed less important when another touch to my balls sent me over the edge. This caused a few things - my load releasing inside of her, her legs pinning me against her body, and soon enough, it felt as far wetter around my crotch than it perhaps should have been. 

"Oh....yes. I want to...keep...you around...for a while." She let me off her, and when I slid my cock out of her, I got a look at the results. I was smirking as I saw that she had seemingly pissed herself, apparently with how good she found it, and then gobs of white dripping out of her slit. She looked at me, laughing herself. "Trust me, I've had friends do worse than that. I'll have to see if they have another pair of robes inside, and perhaps burn these. Anyway...Oh, what is wrong?"

Perhaps the encounter was only a temporary reprieve from the pain, but with it over, it was back in force.  It was all I could do to not fall on her, and in my attempt, I simply laid my head to her stomach, and passed out. I was just conscious enough to hear her say one last thing, until at least a few hours later. "Oh, you must have went through something horrible. I'll fetch the others and get you inside, where you can stay with us until you heal, or for as long as you want."

It seemed like I was in a haze for at least two weeks after that. Either asleep, or close to it, focusing on memories. Thinking of what I wanted to do once I was better, thinking of where I would go. Perhaps I should have focused on what happened, but that seemed to be too much of a blur. Like a memory you forget, but when you consider just the right detail, it seems you never really forgot. If that would happen, I did not know. But soon enough, it seemed far more important to focus on the present, and not the past. This is where she comes in. That intimate relationship would not be the last, as it seems she was right. Out of most there, the focus was on magical study, and little time was spent on other things. I did eventually question at least one of the other mages there on why a place like the College of Winterhold would not be more suited to their aims, and I was brushed off, with a comment about them being too strict on certain matters. I kept it in my head though, as some place I may go, should I decide to leave. 

Otherwise, I found out later that, Jona, the mage I had encountered outside, was into a few, interesting things, though she kept mentioning having known people with far more, perhaps deviant interests, which made her own, tame by comparison. She had also mentioned that, she certainly was not looking to be a mother, and knew of a plant that was able to prevent such a thing, when prepared properly. To be honest, I did not have much of an interest in alchemy before, but she inspired me. It seemed useful, and the knowledge was perhaps invaluable, just as much as any other kind of magic. 

It was some time later, over three months, when I finally decided to leave. I had finally grasped the idea of using magic again, to the point where I managed the summoning of a Flame Atronach, though this was from a scroll. It was not immediate, and I did not leave with her not knowing. When I told her, she made the suggestion that I expected. It was of little concern that I woke her from a sound sleep, no. It was her reaction to pull me into the bed, and let me embrace her once more.

If I would ever return, or would ever see her again, I do not know. Honestly, I had little idea at that point exactly where I was going to go. Perhaps the College eventually, but for the moment, when I stepped out of that cave for the first time in a while, I felt, free. 

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