u/Catdaddy33566

The air was thick with the dewy scent of wet moss on stone, shadows stretched on the floor, and the echoes of footsteps bounced off the walls of small room

Though it was dark, the roof was open, moonlight seeping in and illuminating a shrine to Akatosh. One of the nine divines, the dragon god of time. The base was lined with offerings, from gold, to venison, and mint, to the sands of Elseweyr and Hammerfell, and a new one. A bloody dagger, on the blade the imperial dragon was carved, inlayed with silver on one side, and gold on the other

The bearer of this gift laid flat on his knees in prayer "Oh Akatosh, great Akatosh, grant me your blessing. I have committed the greatest sin of them all, my blood is foul and impure, no longer does my blood run warm with the fires of my ancestors. I fear the sun, I crave blood, every bit of me wants to tear my loved ones apart and I hate myself for it..."

Silence, mind numbing, head pounding silence. The type of silence that would drive a lesser man dead, the type of silence to turn a saint into a sinner

He grieved, anger building up inside him then- *clack* a sound of nails on stone, or claws... quickly the man grabbed the knife from the altar and turned towards the noise only to be greeted with Khajiit, clad in amber armor "They aren't listening you know, he's asleep, they're all asleep." The cat calmly and eloquently explained "Asleep?" The man responded, his voice was scratchy and nervous, and he still pointed the dagger at the Khajiit

"They've been asleep for years, ever since Lorkhan tricked them. They won't respond." It started to approach the man, long and calm strides yet he moved fast. faster than he should have. But he only walked past him, to the shrine "Yet that doesn't mean they don't deserve the respect they deserve, they made this world for us, made sure Oblivion didn't seep into Mundus. Your prayers aren't in vain I promise, but don't you ever expect a response." He placed gold coins on the altar, old coins, not like the ones minted in the imperial city

"Why are you here?" The man's voice was now less shaky, and more confused "Why haven't you killed me?"

"I'm not here to kill you Vetus, my lord doesn't desire it." The cat calmly took the knife from Vetus's hand, Vetus not feeling the urge to resist or fight back "Herma mora sees something in you, and I can see it as well." He places it back on the shrine "consider this an invitation for the future, if you feel the call of knowledge, or your fate feels out of your hands, remember you'll always have a place in apocrypha."

"Apocrypha..." The word lulled off Vetus's tongue like a sweet melody, a melody he hasn't heard yet "Where-" he turned and the cat was gone, and the knife that he offered to the god, was now clean of blood, and sat on the altar once more…