characters: eleea, rhea, azura tags: none words: 536
- Standing in front of Pariah Abbey was a feeling that Eleea would never be able to shake from her bones. Between the devoted, and expectant, oracles that perused the yard to the marble statue of their prince inside, mere metres away from where she stood -- it was overwhelming, and made her feel much smaller in the scope of things. Out of place. The vestige herself was not religious by any stretch. Sure, she acknowledged the existence of the princes of Oblivion, but she refused to worship any of them. A sour taste passed over her tongue, but she shook it off and pulled herself together, fingers brushing the wood of her staff as she slipped it onto her back.
Clearing her throat, she approached the Oracle she'd grown to know the most, a kind smile settling on her face. "You sent for me?" Rhea immediately turned to the vestige, nodding frantically, gently tugging on her arm to pull her off to one of the side alcoves of the abbey.
"Yes, I do apologise for the short notice and stressed urgency," the oracle began, her eyes flicking in each direction as she attempted to steady her breathing. Eleea offered her support through patience, resting a hand gently on Rhea's shoulder, a murmured "take your time" following. "It's the King." Eleea was silent for a moment, but the second she saw the fear that shrouded the oracles eyes, she knew that she was utterly serious. "Speak with the Lady of Twilight for guidance. I think..." There was a long pause, Rhea falling short of words.
"Please, Rhea. Get some rest. I'll handle this." The vestige's words were gentle, contrasting sharply against the adrenaline that was pouring through her body. King Emeric was not her king, however. No, Eleea served Queen Ayrenn as her Eye, and swore fealty to no-one else. And though she had taken to delving into enemy territory, she left her political stance and alliance at bay for the sake of the people in Tamriel.
As the vestige approached the statue of Azura, she gave a slight wince at the voice that pounded in her head, overriding her thoughts entirely. "Heed, mortal. The Dreamstride has claimed King Emeric. One of Vaermina's wretched priests is in my beloved Stormhaven. He has been stealing dreams and replacing them with the terror of Vaermina, sowing chaos and destruction amongst my children. Go now, find this priest and slay him in my name." Though Eleea didn't take too kindly to Daedric Princes, she had grown to realise the love (albeit harsh) that Azura offered. It was definitely a far cry from the wrath of Molag Bal, which she knew all too well.
"As you will," Eleea responded, dipping her head out of mere respect for the Prince of Dawn and Dusk. She knew how tasks like these ended up -- kill the Prince's followers, kill the Prince's priests, kill the Prince themselves. She saw the end of this dark, dark path, and it would end with either her or Vaermina's defeat, which Eleea was determined to make sure it would always be her walking away from the field of battle. As she always did, the ever faithful toy soldier she was.