Blackfeather Woods | trapped |

She'd fallen asleep by the pool, close to her own watery vomit, face slack upon the cool ground. When she awoke, she was even further disoriented. How long had she slept? There was no way to tell time beneath the surface; no light to mark the passage of time. Only that thin line, coming down from a seam in the ceiling. . .

Was it dimmer than before? Did she merely imagine a change?

Maegi felt a nosing at her hindquarters, a gentle caress. It brought back a sensation— Mou, she whispered, without thinking much of it, and a smile bled over her muzzle. She reached back, eyes still closed, meaning to preen gently at his scruff; how long it had been since she'd seen him, touched him, loved him—

Maegi.

The voice that gave reply was not Mou's nor any she was familiar with in the corporeal world; only Sanguine had that serpentine, seductive hiss, and she cringed away from the touch with a whimper. Not Mou not Mou not Mou. . .

I've wanted you for so long and I could show you what my insides feel like, if you would like.

The voice abruptly changed, morphing horribly into something familiar; she saw him, his yellow, dead eyes, his skinny frame. Iliksis.

Please, no, she begged, but felt an inexorable force press her down, not teeth not paws not flesh but something more, something she would never escape from—

She was being dragged out of her body, or so it seemed. The old skeleton shed to reveal the little girl inside, cowering in fear. Iliksis loomed, and two daedra came to frame him. No, three. NO they were her tormentors— Serem, and the woman from the valley. And. . .

You, she choked out furiously, staring with eyes that burned with tears and rage at the warrior who'd killed Miraak, her uncle, her first teacher. Maegi lunged at her but was held back; the mad woman cackled in her face, Serem smiled, Iliksis kept touching her—

I am Skullchaser. It isn't me you should fear though. You are aware why you are here?

Out of the chaos of it all, Molag Bal appeared, violet eyes cast balefully down upon her. Maegi struggled, writhed, looking for her uncle's murderer, that was what mattered, that—

Dumb child, your gods will not help you here. I can have my jaws around your throat squeezing in an instant!

She felt as if she were being strangled, everything pressing down, down, as if she were imploding on the spot. Her lips parted in an endless scream that tore her throat, rattled her lungs, broke her heart. The child was reborn and she cried, and cried, and cried, and through her tears she heard:

May Sithis strike me dead, then.

Pain seared suddenly across her scarred mouth and she found the strength to rise, to run. She fled the cave and the shadows within it, entire body exhausted, aching. Tired. . .so tired. And disoriented;

Tired of the darkness. Needed to get out.

She needed to get out. Needed to get out. Get out. Get out. GET OUT.

MOTHER! Maegi called out with everything she had, not knowing exactly why she said it

But there was a glow up ahead.

Hope.