Blackwater Islands trickster

in silence the prophet collected her executioner. they were alone, a pair of feral children glinting under the starlight. their faint cast lent the listener's own coat a midnight glow, a faint blue sheen gifted to her by her ancestors. but she was unaware of her own radiance; instead, her eyes lingered on alduin, on the mottled silver moonscape of his pelt.

and as they traveled, she mulled the meaning behind the deep scarlet of his eyes. red. the color of betrayal.

when the pair passed under the waterfall, the listener turned to alduin with burning eyes. tonight, i mean to call on the unnamed god. to seek the answers to your questions. i believe you have our god's favor; you have shed blood for the druids, passed judgment on a traitor. the unnamed god gives freely to enforcers of our faith.

she led him to her altar, where the gored and twitching body of a coyote lay dying. its maw was stretched wide, too wide, the skyrock jammed down a bleeding and torn throat. flowers and herbs surrounded the body, sacred bones laid before it on a bed of silver-green leaves like an offering. the air was thick with blood.

when you are ready, we will begin.