[h3][i]The Snake And The Dragon[/i][/h3]
[i]Lemons, Morty[/i]
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[i]Nighttime, 17th of Sun’s Height[/i]

Gaius was sweating and red in the face from dancing by the time he finally broke away from the dense crowd in the town square, walking with a tipsy weave away from the press of people. Looking up at the stars, he realized suddenly that with all that had been going on, he’d neglected to worship (and it wasn’t like there were shrines scattered across the Alik’r and the Druadach) for quite a while. If memory served, there was a shrine to Arkay just outside the city, and he wasn’t drunk enough that he would trip over the gravestones. And so he walked through the dark, quiet lanes of Falkreath, the quiet calling of nightbirds accompanying him as he tried to remember the direction to the temple.

It had been rather easy for Jaraleet to spot Gaius as he broke away from the dense crowd that had gathered in his tipsy state. A frown settled on his face as he saw that the Imperial was heading in the direction that led outside of the city, he might not know the man personally but, seeing him interacting with the others in the group, made it clear that he was no stranger to the others. “[i]It’ll probably be for the best to follow him and make sure everything is ok.[/i]” The Argonian thought. Given their current predicament, it was a rather foolish thing to go out of the -relative- safety of the town in the assassin’s opinion. 

Given the man’s inebriated state, and Jaraleet’s own rather fast walking pace, it didn’t take too long for the Argonian to catch up to the Imperial. “Going somewhere...Gaius, was it, no?” He asked, unable to hide the note of skepticism in his voice. It was, all things considered, rather odd for someone to leave the festivities when they were in full swing as it stood and, in truth, while the other members of the group, those that had been there since the Jerall Mountains expedition, seemed to be familiar with the man, he was still an enigma as far as the Argonian assassin was concerned. “You’ll have to forgive me if I seem overly suspicious but, well, it [i]is[/i] rather strange for someone to leave a feast in the middle of it, especially to go outside the city itself, wouldn’t you agree?” 

Despite his intoxicated state, Gaius was still a soldier, and so when he heard a voice from behind him in the middle of the night, he whirled around, arms reaching to where his weapons would ordinarily be. A moment passed before he realized that he had no weapons with him at the moment--he would need to see the blacksmith--and that the person behind him wasn’t a danger to him, at least not now. With a sigh, he relaxed, squinting at Jaraleet and chuckling a little bit. “Never been to Falkreath, have you? Come on then, I’ll show you where I’m going.”

He beckoned, and--drawn by the light of candles--he arrived at the graveyard. Even the keeper of the graveyard was at the town square. Though the sounds of the party could still be heard in the distance, he felt isolated, contained in a bubble of quiet tranquility that was sorely lacking in his recent life. He stepped up upon the threshold of the Hall Of The Dead, and knelt down. Before him was the ever-familiar interlocking squares and sphere of Arkay, backed by candles that silhouetted it with a gentle light. Closing his eyes, he began to pray.

The reaction speed from Gaius had surprised him but, even so, Jaraleet hadn’t been worried, having already noticed that the man was unarmed. “No, can’t say that I have been. This is my first time on Skyrim, as a matter of fact.” The Argonian replied, nodding when Gaius offered to show him where he was going.

The assassin followed the Imperial in silence, but the presence of the tombstones and the candles clued him in soon enough to where Gaius had been heading before he had interrupted him. When Gaius entered the Hall of the Dead, Jaraleet remained a respectful distance from the man as he prayed to Arkay waiting until he was done before he spoke again. “I must admit, I didn’t figure you as a religious man.” He said, before pausing for a second. “Although, admittedly, I don’t know you all that well...and my people are ather different from yours when it comes to worshipping, so that might have played a part as well.”

Gaius stood, eyes still lightly closed, and sighed out a heavy breath. It felt good to be so close to a Divine again after so long. “The Oblivion Crisis nearly destroyed my home. It was only Akatosh that saved us. What sort of Imperial would I be if I didn’t pay my dues to the gods?”

Then he turned--still stumbling slightly--and stared at Jaraleet. The candles behind him cast his face into darkness, leaving him almost entirely a shadow. “What do you worship in Argonia? All I really know is that you come from a tree called the Hist, at least...somehow. What is your name for Akatosh?”

“To your first question, what kind of Imperial you’d be if you didn’t worship your gods, I believe it is something that you already know the answer to. Or at least I think so, I doubt that anything I’d say would have too profound an impact on what you think. But I can see why you’d have such a reference towards your gods, the sacrifice of Martin Septim was a great one and, unlike the Thalmor, I don’t believe such a sacrifice should be erased...even if we Argonians were holding against the forces of Oblivion.” 

He paused for a second as he pondered on the next question that Gaius had made to him, thinking on how to answer it. “It is….complicated to say.” Jaraleet finally began, crossing his arms over his chest. “What you call Akatosh we, or at least so says the myths passed down by the Adzi-Kostleel tribe of Murkmire, call Atak, or the Great Root if you’d prefer. We believe the growth of Atak, and from it’s confrontation with the serpent Kota, and subsequent fusion into the being known as Atakota, that Nirn sprang forth.” He continued on, pausing for a second to allow Gaius to process the information that had been relayed to him. 
“Along with this there’s the presence of the Shadow, which devoured the roots and gave us the knowledge of mortality, but leading to the division of Atakota into its original components.” He paused again, realizing that the Imperial probably wouldn’t understand some of the terms that he was saying. “To clarify, the serpent Kota is the being that is usually associated with the name of Lorkahn, as for the Shadow, it is none other than Sithis itself. Are you following me so far? As I said, it is a complicated tale.”

Gaius blinked for a moment, eyelids drawing together in something like confusion. “So...Akatosh and Lorkhan fused together and created Nirn. And then Sithis ate them, which created mortality and divided Akatosh and Lorkhan again?” He sighed, knuckling his eyes. “Maybe it’s the mead, but I think I get it. For the most part. Do go on.”

Jaraleet couldn't help but let out a soft chuckle, a smile forming on his face. “That is the gist of it. The myth ends with the Shadow re-awakening due to the confrontation between Atak and Kota, consuming them both and shedding the skin that was Atakota. In this way, the Shadow covered all roots and promised to keep them safe.” He finished, stepping closer to the Imperial soldier and patting him on the shoulder. “That's it, how we Saxhleel see the creation of the world.” Jaraleet said, pausing for a second as he pondered whether or not to say what was in his mind before, in the end, deciding to give voice to his thoughts. “I am surprised that you didn't so much as flinch when I mentioned Sithis, giving what people usually know of it.” 

“Probably the drink,” chuckled Gaius. “But, seriously. Maybe if you killed for Sithis like the Dark Brotherhood used to, then we’d have a problem. But as it is? It’s Sithis. It exists. I mean,” he laughed again, “it’s not like you murder in its name. Death’s always there, watching over our shoulders.” He nodded respectfully at Arkay’s shrine. “And as long as death is there, so is Sithis.”

“You’re very eloquent, by the way,” he added suddenly. “I’m impressed.”

“Well put. Though I should clarify that Sithis isn’t [i]just[/i] death itself. I can’t deny that groups like the Dark Brotherhood existed, that Death isn’t a part of Sithis, but it’s more than that. Sithis is change, and all that entails. It is life and death, it is the tree that grows, changes, and dies, in that Sithis is also present.” 

He paused for a second when he registered that Gaius had called him eloquent, causing the assassin to let out a sheepish chuckle. “Thank you, I’ve been called many things but never eloquent.” 

Gaius raised his eyebrows. “‘It is life and death, it is the tree that grows, changes and dies, in that Sithis is also present?’” He smirked. “And you say you’ve never been called eloquent.” The world swam lightly around him as he stepped heavily forward and laid a hand on Jaraleet’s shoulder. “When we liberate the Empire from these Dwemer dogs, I’ll see to it personally that you get a powerful position in the Legion.” He didn’t usually toss promises about so liberally, but communing with a Divine (and drinking) had put him in a fantastic mood.

“That is, if you want it,” he added as an afterthought.

The offer from Gaius caught him by surprise. Him, a member of the Imperial Legion? If he had been the same Jaraleet who had set off from the Imperial City he’d have laughed, said something about how the Empire had nothing for his people so why would he want to be part of the army that had made it? But he wasn’t the same Argonian, and the offer gave him pause. 

“I’ll...think about it, Gaius.” He finally said, still processing the offer. “It is true that I’m a fighter, but I am not sure if I’d be a good leader of soldiers. Or a good soldier for that matter.” He said, letting out a soft chuckle. “But I thank you, truly. Never in my life has someone made an offer, a promise, to me of that sort.” Jaraleet said, smiling at the Imperial man.

One last warm smile came to Gaius’ face. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned from my service in the legion, Jaraleet, it’s that the leaders who think they’re the best are often the worst, and that the reverse is also true.” He stepped back, giving a sort of casual, offhand salute. “Just remember that if you’re ever in the Imperial City, the Guard is always open to you.” The smile turned to a kind of lopsided grin. “Now, I’m going to see about getting some more mead.”

“Thank you Gaius.” The Argonian said, before grinning at the imperial soldier. “And you best hurry, otherwise I think you’ll have trouble getting some more mead.” Jaraleet said, letting out a soft chuckle. “As for me, I think I’ll abstain from the festivities. You’ve given me a lot to think about.” 

With that, Gaius wove away, back towards the festival. The Argonian followed in his wake shortly afterwards, albeit heading further away from the festival rather than back towards it like the Imperial had done.