When Hasir''s head hit the pillow, his tired eyes closed behind scaly eyelids, it was then that his head exploded into a scene
completely foreign to him. Hasir found himself laying in a deep ravine that ran down this strange land efffectively splitting it in half.
His eyes snapped open, He scrambled up the riverbank that was ladden with purple plants known as monkshood or wolfsbane. When
he brushed one with his hand, it immediately became red and itchy. He also found he started sneezing. He also became incredibly
weak until he moved out of the plant's path. Hasir thought this was odd.
Hasir guessed it was this plant that gave the realm its purplish hue. On a stump in the middle of a vast field of monkshood sat a
being which Hasir had not seen before. The being had the skull of a deer and the body of a man. Hasir walked through the field
being careful not to step on the purple plant. Having superior hearing, the deer-man turned and smiled at Hasir.
"Who is this that enters my realm?" He asked
"My name is Hasir." Hasir said with a wide grin. "May I ask who you are?" He asked
The deer-man got up and walked over to Hasir.
"I am Hircine, father of man-beasts."
The god of the hunt stared out of his 'eyes' at Hasir,
"I know of your name, I knew of your coming since that werewolf infected you on Solstheim."
When Hasir spoke, his voice was dry and cracked, as if he was dehydrated,
"What the...? Why you spying on me?" Hasir stammered
Hircine shook his head and sighed, patting Hasir on the shoulder,
"Not at all my hound, I merely watch as my children hunt on my sister's realm of Mundus."
The hunter aspect of hircine eyed Hasir carefully, as if he were a bomb set to go off at any moment. Hasir's breaths came in short,
rapid bursts,
"My life had been all figured out until you came into the picture," Hasir rounded on Hircine, his face screwed up angrily, but the god
just stayed were he was, "You are the reason my life is so fucked up, damn it to Oblivion, if you weren't involved, my life would be
great."
Hircine waved a single finger in front of Hasir's face, and then spoke in a tone that was unlike him,
"Listen and listen well, hound, you test my patience, so I suggest you change your attitude."
Hasir considered this and took a few deep breaths to calm himself,
"I am sorry, sometimes my emotions get the best of me."
The lizard knelt down in the monkshood,
"Is there something you wanted to tell me? I apologize again for my rash behavior."
Hircine bent down, grabbed Hasir by the collar of his miner's shirt and pulled him to his feet,
"There will be no need to bow, we are both equals here."
Hircine scratched his skull with one long, hairy finger,
"My hound, do you know Beela-Kaar?"
He shook his head; the wolflord told him that he smelt something 'odd' on the air. Hasir was curious as to where Hircine's mind was
going,
"My hound I think that Molag Bal is combining my children's blood with that of the children of my rival and he is using your race's
ancestor to do so. Bal thinks that will coax Kynareth away from me; whether Molag is indeed sweet on her or he is just using her to
drag Nirn into coldharbor, I cannot say. My hound, what I ask of you is this: find out what Molag Bal's true intentions are and what
he has planned for these 'werebats.'
His blank eyes bore into Hasir's blue ones,
"You need to find a way to channel your anger so it does not build up inside you, like lava inside a volcano, you need to discipline
your mind."
Hasir just laughed this off as he thought it was a joke, the huntsman was not amused,
HIrcine's eyes narrowed as he grew impatient with Hasir,
"Do you not get it, hound? Get your anger under control or else Bloodfang with take over as he feeds on negative emotions. You
must not let that happen."
With every word, the wolflord forced Hasir further back into the grass where he sat, almost making him topple over again. Hasir got
up and brushed dust from his armor, which was now filthy with dust.
"Excuse me, but, what does any of this have to do with me?" Hasir asked
He looked intently at the wolf lord expecting a straight forward answer, but, answers, in Hircine's realm, were often cryptic.
Hircine bent low so his skull was the level of the argonian's blue eyes,
"Hasir, have you ever heard of the yinyang?"
This caught Hasir by surprise. In response, he replied,
"No, I haven't, I mean, I do know it is very prevelent in Akaviri religion, why do you ask?"
The wolf lord settled back on the rock he sat on,
"My realm of Oblivion is best represented by that symbol."
His held his hands, palm up, in front of him, as if weighing two different objects,
"By night, the humans in my realm become werewolves, hunting down both humans and animals alike. By day, the beast becomes
human, causing the hunt to be flipped around, the hunter becomes the hunted. The beasts cannot live without the prey and the
prey, to a certain twisted extent, cannot hope to survive without the beasts."
He looked out onto the horizon,
"Do you see now why I liken my realm to the yinyang? The yinyang is like the circle of life, animals, humans and even us gods
must work together or we will surely perish. One cannot hope to exist without the other."
He walked over to Hasir, hefting his spear proudly,
"Like my realm, you also have a yinyang. Your soul is torn between two warring emotions."
Hasir turned to face him and raised an eyebrow in disbelief,
"Erm, I don't follow, what does this have to do with Molag Bal?"
Hircine sighed, as if he reiterated this point a million times,
"You have werewolf and vampire blood, from your mother and father, correct?"
Hasir nodded slowly, as if he needed to process what Hircine had just said.
Hircine stretched his hand out like Vanna White,
"There you go, your own personal yinyang. One cannot exist without the other. One starts the action while the other finishes it." He
smiled, proud of his hound.
Hasir's forehead creased with thought,
"So, if I have this right, my positive and negative emotions combine to create a yinyang, both fighting for supremacy, yet neither
gaining an inch because they rely on each other to survive? And without one, the other would be rendered inert?"
If Hircine could, he would've smiled,
"Well done, my hound, you figured it out all on your own, good job." He emphasized the last point by thumping Hasir on the back,
almost sending the lizard toppling head over heels into the field of purple flowers.
The hunter looked at his faithful hound as he thought of something else,
"Wouldn't the dichotomy of man and wolf be another example of a yinyang?" He spread his arms wide. "Think about it, they are
entirely different creatures, but they cannot live seperate otherwise the scales will be unbalanced. That is true of any of my faithful.
If they fall to learn control, one will take over and the other will die."
Hasir regained him balance and looked up a the imposing figure of the wolflord,
"Erm, Hircine, I am wondering something."
Hircine turned to look at him,
"What's that, hunter? "Ah yes, You wish to know about your aunt." Hircine trailed off, lost in thought.
"Well yes, but first, why do I have red, itchy palms whenever I touch wolfsbane and I also get a stuffy nose and go into sneezing fits
when I am near the plant?" Hasir asked, unsure if he wanted the answer.
Hircine's train of thought got derailed by this sudden diversion,
"What? "You see, werewolves, er, have a sort of allergy to it, I mean, less than silver which causes anaphylaxis to most
lycanthropes. The very smell of wolfsbane can inhibit a werewolf's nervous system, causing them to weaken just by smelling it,
much less walking through it." Hrircine thought some more on the subject, "It is only deadly to werewolves in large doses."
Hircine strode over to the argonian and ruffled his black leaf-like hair,
"The purple plant merely acts as a lesser poison when the werewolf is in their normal state." Hircine looked at Hasir and shook
his, er, head. "But you needn't worry about that because wolfsbane is mostly absent on Nirn. It only grows in two places: Cyrodiil
and my domain, the hunting grounds." He said, smiling at the argonian. At least, he thought the wolflord was smiling. "The only
thing you have to worry about, my hound, is silver."
Hasir nodded briskly and thanked the daedric prince and said that was very informative.
Hircine found his train of thought and forced it back on the tracks,
"Your aunt is dead, I'm so sorry." Hircine lowered his skull in sorrow
Hasir roared with laughter,
"You're joking right?"
The lizard looked at the god of the hunt expecting him to be joking, only to find he was not laughing,
"So...how did she die exactly?" Hasir asked.
Hircine again took a deep breath,
"Well, after she left the illusion of my realm set up by Sheogorath. She was teleported to his palace, there was a battle between her,
another being and Sheogorath. Molag Bal's wolf aspect must have killed her."
Hircine looked to his right and saw the moon had just peaked over the mountains. Hasir wondered what the wolflord was looking at,
he looked above the wolflord's large antlers. Once Hasir caught sight of the silver light, he gasped in horror as silver light filled up
his senses.
Hasir fell to the ground on his hands and knees,
"Gah!" Help me please Hircine, what's is happening to me? This really hurts, Please help me." The lizard looked at the wolflord for
help, tears welling up in his eyes.
Not wanting to intervene, as that would be breaking his only rule, Hircine looked on as Hasir's body changed. His body began
transforming. His bones broke and reformed, his eyes took on a bluish color and white fur sprouted all over his body. The process
took seven extremely painful minutes. When it was completed, where a lizard stood minutes before, now stood Frost and Bloodfang,
Hasir's two wolf spirits.
Clouds obscured the moon as the two wolves transformed back into the lizard form. Hasir got up weakly and looked at the wolflord.
Hircine looked down at the lizard and frowned, at least Hasir thought he was frowning,
"You must find a way to lure Beela-Kaar out of hiding and kill him . Now go and fulfill your destiny. With those last words, Hircine's
realm faded.
Breathiing heavily, his body wet with sweat brought on from terror, Hasir clawed his way over to the water basin next to a small
oaken table and washed the sleep out of his eyes. After washing his face, he looked at his hands, they were reptilian hands, not the
paws of the wolf he had seen in his dream. He reached over with his right hand and felt an intricate silver mirror that lay on his
bedside table. He picked it up.
He let out a cry of pain, causing him to drop it. He looked at his hand, which had a deep, angry red burn mark ln it. He closed the
door and found a mirror hanging on the door and examined his face with it. A lizard of seven years, not a wolf, was staring back at
him, its scales were drenched in sweat, the eyes were their normal shade of blue and, as an afterthought, he checked his teeth.
They were their normal sharpness, not as sharp as the fangs of a wolf.
Hasir sighed in relief,
"Thank Hircine, it was just a bad dream."
Hasir then laughed to himself,
I can't be two wolves at once, split soul, what a bunch of bullshit.
He went downstairs to greet the others. They greeted him with warm smilles. Hasir scanned the room and saw Erina Juranus,
Siderion, M'aiq and Infinite sitting around a round table that was situated in the corner near the proprietor's desk with various bits of
food and drink on it. There was daedric lava whiskey and a jug of water along with an assortment of sweetrolls laid out on a long
wooden plate. Hasir saw an extra chair and place setting for him. Hasir said it was nice for them to wait for him and sat down and
started to eat.
