A Fryse Hag's Tale (from the Third Era)

shiva7663

My name is Grenda, and I am a Fryse Hag.

There is a rime of blood beneath my fingernails which is not mine, so I must have killed someone again; there was a vision of a name on a bloody scrap of official-looking vellum which had called out to me, seeking truth. There was a wretched shack with a book on the floor and a dead Dunmer who wore a ring of a quality far beyond his station in life.... a blur, then a sack of gold in my hands, the scrawny dragon commands I use the reward to buy some clothes. I wander in the sweltering heat, heading northward, always north.... Back to the clarity of the brittle winds of my snow-clad homeland.... Angry men and mer screech at me to go back where I came from, but I'm trying, really, I'm trying the best I can to do just that.

There is a stench of blight, but I am far away from Red Mountain, where? An egg-mining town where people wander with nothing to do. "Sickness? Destiny? Too much..." I say to an Orc; he turns me around and points me toward a temple. A blur, a flicker of candlelight, a golden column in the center of the room.... "Potion! You're going to need a potion to donate", says the shining golden one. His face filled my sight with prophesy and darkness. "Esib-Nummu, go find Zanmulk, go, now! Move! I don't want to catch whatever she's got."

"Oh, this is bad," says a rough, testy voice. "She can't swallow the potions. This isn't going to work; the Ash Mask shrine is her best hope." Louder, then, "Listen to me, Nord. Take this potion and offer it to the shrine. Yes, yes, I know it's heavy, but you have to do this. You have to--"

A flash of pure white, then a vision of another place, strange and outside of Time.

"I expected you," said Vivec. "We have business, you and I." A pause, and then, "Ah, wrong time. This is before now, not after now." I am transfixed, unable to move; a single tear makes an inexorable journey down my cheek. "Oh, well," he said. "You're of no use to anybody like this. Come back when you're really ready."

Another flash of pure white. In the temple shrine, the Ash Mask of Vivec is still glowing. "He... kissed me and told me to come back later," I said. "The experience is different for everybody," said Zanmulk; his voice was still rough, but more kindly now. "I've lost it, I've lost the Second Sight," I said. "Soul sickness is too great a price to pay for prophesy. You're lucky a mob didn't stick you into a fire," said the Ordinator. "You have the healing touch now, young Nord. Go forth and spread that gift in Vivec's name," said Zanmulk. "And go buy some clothes."

My name is Grenda, and I am a Fryse Hag no more.