An Appropriate Response to Reality 1

“It is sometimes an appropriate response to reality to go insane.” 
― Philip K. Dick

It looked like an ancient Nord crypt. It even acted like an ancient Nord crypt, what with the annoying fucking traps and the annoying fucking dead people and the annoying fucking puzzles—but it wasn’t an ancient Nord crypt. Maia had known that the second she’d entered. She’d been pushed into exploring enough of them lately that she would know. Hadvar had been more dubious. He had been complaining about what a waste of time this was ever since she’d heard the rumours about this place when they’d been in Dawnstar. When the Draugrs started singing “Ragnar the Red” and dancing to the flute, and the traps started releasing clouds of butterflies, he’d stopped complaining.

          After Helgen had been attacked by that damn dragon, Maia and Hadvar had found sanctuary in Riverwood with Hadvar’s uncle Alvar for a few days. They’d been heading to Whiterun to warn the Jarl of the danger when they’d received word that the Imperial troops were in need of aide in the Pale. Two soldiers might not turn the tide of the battle, but they had a duty to the Legion. By the time they arrived, reinforcements had made it there from Solitude and driven the Stromcloaks back. Legate Rikke had never-the-less appreciated their presence.

          It was when they were patrolling the newly-re-taken Dawnstar that Maia had heard about the strange goings-on out near the ancient crypt. People that went near the place came back mad, or didn’t come back at all. Other-worldly creatures had been seen wandering around, strange sounds emanated from the caverns, and other widely varied things had occurred. Maia remembered well the last time she’d visited Dawnstar some years ago when the town had been plagued with their chronic nightmares. She also vividly remembered that the nightmares had been the work of a nefarious play-thing belonging to a Daedric Prince. It was those memories that convinced her that there had to be something behind these occurrences.

          She had considered visiting Nightcaller Temple and enlisting Erandur’s help in the matter, but the crypt was in the opposite direction of the old temple and she doubted Hadvar would have agreed to climb the mountain only to double back down. She would have to visit the old priest another day.

          She still wasn’t certain that this peculiar crypt was the work of a Daedric Prince, or if it was something else entirely, but she wasn’t disappointed that she’d come. The deeper they got into the crypt, the weirder things seemed to get. The Ancient Nord appearance vanished altogether as the tunnels got rougher and roots began appearing along the walls and ceilings and strange plants and oddly shaped glowing fungi made appearances more and more often. This made it all the stranger when they came upon a puzzle door like many others that Maia had come across in her travels. But this time, she lacked the key.

          As she walked up to the door to examine the puzzle, though, there was a bored voice that said in her ear, “Miss, you might need this to get through that door,” and before she could react, a slip of parchment fluttered seemingly from the ceiling. Picking it up, she saw that it had the puzzle key drawn on it.

          “What in Oblivion…?” she said, staring up at the ceiling and seeing nothing particularly unusual. Hadvar came to stand next to her.

          “What?”

          “Well, apparently this came out of nowhere because someone thinks we need it.” Without further adieu, she began arranging the puzzle to open the door.

          “Wait! Hang on a second!” Hadvar grasped her shoulder and pulled her away from the door. “Do you really think this is a good idea? Because this seems a bit weirder than I’m used to.”

          “Everything is weirder than what you’re used to. We came all the way down into this madhouse, I’m not going to leave just because another strange thing happened.” She went back to putting the key into the door.

          Behind her, she heard Hadvar mutter, “Curiosity killed the Redguard…” but she didn’t answer.

          As the last tumbler fell into place, Maia stood back as the door ground aside with a low grumble. Hadvar came up to stand next to her again with a hand on his sword. Maia put her hand on her own sword and made sure he could see the movement just so he knew she wasn’t completely reckless. The precaution was unnecessary, they saw, once the door opened fully. Hadvar swore and stepped backward. Maia stepped forward, speechless, ignoring Hadvar’s attempts to keep her there.

          Dominating the center of the chamber was a large sphere of swirling purple mage-light, crackling around the edges with electricity. On the floor around it were what appeared to be rotate-able stone circles with runes carved all around the circumference. At the other side of the room, nearly obscured by the sphere was a statue of a gentleman with a cane. Maia knew enough about the Daedric Princes to recognize a shrine to Sheogorath.

          As she started around the sphere to get a better look at the shrine, Hadvar circled around in front of her and held her back with his hands on her shoulders. “Maia! What are you doing? We have no idea what is going on here. Messing around with the Daedric Lords is not a smart idea. Especially with the one that no one ever has any idea of what he wants and what he might do!” He had to practically yell over the crackling of electricity from the sphere.

          “Relax, Hadvar! I’m not going to do anything stupid. Besides, I’ve dealt with worse Princes than Sheogorath. I can handle a little madness.” She gripped his upper arm and squeezed in re-assurance. He looked doubtful, but moved out of the way.

          Maia moved to the base of the shrine and examined it. There were no offerings there as she had seen at other shrines, only a large metal rod. Carved into the stone above where the rod lay were four circles inside one another with the same runes carved into the ones on the floor. Glancing at the ones on the floor she noticed holes in each one of them just big enough to put the rod into. Taking a deep breath and wondering if she really was mad, she reached out and grasped the rod, studying the circles for the pattern. Finally, she looked up at the statue and said, “I really hope this isn’t one of your jokes.”

          Ignoring Hadvar’s cautionary comments, she fit the rod into the first of the stone circles and spun it so the runes were in accordance with the ones on the second one. They spun impossibly easily. She did the same for the remaining three circles. Hearing the bangs of each of the circles settling into the ground, she backed away from them. One by one, the runes started to glow and the sphere began to spin faster, its electricity becoming more active. Just when Maia was pretty certain that she should have listened to Hadvar and left it alone, the last rune lit up and suddenly—the sphere collapsed into the ground. The sudden silence was so deafening she almost didn’t hear the sentence continued as though it had never been stopped.

          “—ould please my Lord.” There was a dunmer woman standing in the center of the circle where the sphere had been. She had dark auburn hair and a face that wasn’t quite as narrow and pointed as other mer. The armour she was wearing was unlike anything Maia had ever seen. On one side it was mostly red with spikes on the shoulder guard and on the left it was purple and the shoulder was decorated with a leaf. Her breastplate was decorated with an elaborate butterfly. She had her helmet tucked under her right arm.

          Shock and confusion registered on her face as she looked around at her surroundings. She spotted Maia and Hadvar and studied them for a few seconds. Then she spotted the statue of Sheogorath.

She blinked a few times.

And then she began to laugh.