For real though, you were invisible for three minutes. You are on a mountaintop, and can see the road from horizon to horizon. You’re pretty sure Asotil did not speed past you at eighty miles per hour during the brief period when you couldn’t see. You don’t have to worry about everything.

Maybe it was a little mean, but it was also pretty justified. At least you’re trying to be there for the one person who is relying on you. Though, admittedly that isn’t going great right now.

Or maybe you’re just in a bad mood. You’ve been sitting here since eleven in the morning, eating sweetrolls to the point where you’re completely sick of them, waiting for a friend who for all you know may have just left you here as a joke. You haven’t slept since the chapel fire, and with your newfound sobriety and lack of answers on your nightmares, you guess staying awake indefinitely is just your plan now. You’re very much craving a thick steak, a stiff drink, and a soft bed, but are determined to complete this delivery for Quill-Weave and show her that she wasn’t wrong to believe in you. Determined to set you apart from all the Asotils and Omen-spiders and aaaaarrrgghghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh fuck.

Also while you’re being petty: your fur has not continued to make this rock soft and comfortable, these new boots have not been broken in yet, and your conflicted emotions are especially unpleasant now that they give you this annoying electric buzz feeling! Everything is objectively good but mildly uncomfortable and that is really frustrating!

Fuck you in particular, he gets a second one.

You aren’t ready to give up yet. There’s a part of you that’s still sure that, any moment now, he’s going to appear on the horizon. You’ll slump over the back of his angry horse, maybe take a tumultuous, nightmare-filled nap, and wake up at the coast to a happy and proud Quill-Weave. Everyone will know that you didn’t give up, and that you succeeded. You had everything planned out in your head, and it was going to be perfect. And maybe it can still happen.

But also you’re angry at the rock and your boots and the sweetrolls and daedra and magic and grrraaaaaaaaarrrrggghhh, fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

You want to break in these boots.

Additional resource credits:
Lauren Pham – music (“No Hope For Deer”)
DragonXVI – original song (“Hope For You Yet”)
AMKitsune – the javascript that was beyond me
TamLin123 – background trees and clouds, and that
one room that looks notably better than the rest
tomoaky – a plugin
Iavra – another plugin
Galv – more plugins
Zer – city rotation
BurakoIRL – Pastel Horizon palette
LucasDuff – a sound effect
Chiptone – the rest of them

So this call isn’t like… costing me anything, right?

The lilmothiit skeleton proudly explains that CairnCorp^® provides leyline rerouting services to all of the top twenty^[1]† planes and pocket realms^‡ free of charge. It comes at a slight mana cost to the Masters^®, but the analyghasts in marketing have found that helping customers reach out to Daedric entities is one of the most effective methods of discouraging customers from reaching out to Daedric entities.

Alright, yeah, I’m starting to understand that.

Hey. Hey! Calm down, it’s alright, you try to say to the Omen soothingly. The fox skeleton can’t hurt you. I’m pretty sure I remember one of them mentioning they’re not even real skeletons, just artificially-molded bones as part of some weird plane-wide Tales and Tallows aesthetic. Being afraid of them is like someone with a royalty phobia being afraid of a vaguely crown-shaped rock, which is a completely ridiculous and embarrassing thing you can’t imagine ever happening to anyone.

Sorry, sorry, sorry, the Omen says. It has one job and it is absolutely botching it. The creature stands up on shaking legs, wipes its general nose-like area, and does its best to put on a brave face, explaining that even if it can’t direct you to Vaermina directly, it is still a being of nightmare and may be able to answer your questions. You had concerns about a recurring dream, correct?

Yeah, I-

Actually, wait. Do you know anything about someone named Gaius Atrum?

He was having nightmares like mine, and Vaermina thought they were coming from someone other than her. She told him to reach out to her immediately if he found any more information, especially if his nightmares spoke to him – and my very similar ones did. Did Vaermina leave any directions for if Gaius reached out, or if someone else reached out about him?

Aaaah, how many centuries ago was this?

Like, one twwwwwwwelve-hundredth, if I did that right? It was last month.

Okay, well, I haven’t seen Her Dark Eminence in two centuries, so I might not be completely entirely up to date on the latest goings-on. But this does sound very important! If you’d like, I can share some of my favorite methods of coping with an inability to reach Vaermina.

Look, I can’t spend too long on this, my cloak blinds me and I need to watch the road for my friend. Can you put me in contact with an Omen who can put me in contact with Vaermina?

I, ahh, I don’t actually know any other Omens? I am sure they are very nice Daedra and I see them sometimes in the distant mists but I don’t know where they live or what important jobs the Mistress has bestowed upon them.

Can you connect me to a better Omen?

The skeleton clarifies for you that CairnCorp^® can only direct leylines to the plane itself^[2][3]. Once the leyline extends into the plane’s local existence, any further redirection will be at the discretion^‡† of the plane’s creator or any automated manalattices they created for such a purpose.

So let me get this straight: your entire purpose for existing is to respond to conjurers who reach out to Vaermina’s plane. But you don’t actually have any information about what Vaermina is doing, or any way to pass information to Vaermina. You haven’t even seen Vaermina in hundreds of years. Please explain to me how this is any better than the plane just being un-contactable, and your job any more useful than a brick wall.

Well, it’s, I’d like to think that contacting me is like a little gift from Vaermina. Because the empathetic bond will make you feel some of my fear, it lets you know that she thought about you, about this situation, and left you a present. And I think there’s something really special about that, about me, like a living reminder that Her Eminence wanted to give you an experience you’d remember. I am really happy with this.

I’m actually just invisible. All Khajiit can turn invisible, and we could be all around you.

No Asotil on the horizon yet. You weren’t invisible for that long; a few minutes of blindness won’t be enough to miss him if he comes past.

He’s fine. You even imagined him up one of those apples behind the Omen, because they looked good. He’s loving it. In your mind it tastes like cherries.

You are now the khajiit again.

The Omen slowly creaks half its eyes open and asks where you went. You explain that you put on your cloak of, ah… making you not show up over telepathic connections. Which is a thing that exists, cloaks of Not-Making-You-Show-Up-Over-Telepathic-Connections. Oh, whew, the Omen thinks with relief. For a second it thought kh-jiit could turn invisible now, which would be an absolutely terrifying new development. For it, it means. You’d probably like it.

It apologizes for the unprofessional introduction. It admits it has a slight phobia it’s still trying to get under control. This contact went far better than last one, though.

You tell it it’s fine; you can empathize. Should you hide the weird snake with cat ears and tiny arms too?

The Omen asks what snake. You suddenly realize you should probably be keeping better track of what is and isn’t imaginary, before this becomes a problem for you.

Although its fear is still palpable, the Omen puffs out its chest (?), puts on a brave face, and asks what business the conjurer before it seeks with the Lady of Nightmares and her plane of Quagmire.

Wasting no time, you delve into your plight. You explain that ever since you were a small child in Hammerfell, you’ve been plagued by terrifying nightmares about a shadowy king. Last time you slept, though, something about the nightmares changed. It’s as if the nightmare was suddenly trying to communicate with you. It told you not to be afraid of it, and – whatever it was sending that message – it told you it would “be back later”.

You aren’t sure what this means, but in a way, that’s what scares you most of all. Right now, your life is finally looking up. You have friends, you have money, and arguably you even have stable employment, at least insofar as you get free room and board as long as you lounge around and do basically any stereotypical wizard activity other than try to topple the Empire. Ideally, you want to figure out a way to end your nightmares, but you also want to be sure things aren’t about to somehow change for the worse. And if anyone would have answers to this, or knowledge about your nightmares at all, you assume it would be the Daedric Prince Vaermina.

The Omen nods. That makes a lot of sense, it thinks.

Well?

The Omen admits it’s not actually sure what it’s supposed to do next in this exchange.

You ask the Omen if it knows anything at all about your nightmares.

It explains that it’s not exactly… privy to deeper information like that. Its job is to answer incoming contact requests from kh-jiit. If the kh-jiit gets scared and leaves, then it goes back to waiting, and if the kh-jiit doesn’t leave, there’s probably something else it’s supposed to do. You ask it why it keeps pronouncing the word weirdly, even in a mental link, but it ignores the question.

Could you put me in contact with Vaermina?

The Omen wishes it could. It wishes more than anything that it had that sort of direct access to the being that created it. That it could gaze upon Her majesty and hear Her hundred voices directly, rather than merely looking upon a misty, distant citadel and imagining what transpires inside.

But, it also understands why this is denied it. As a creature of Vaermina, it understands that there is a beauty in longing, made stronger through torment. By wanting something forbidden to it, by striving to get something it cannot, that thing becomes more magnificent. It does not always understand Vaermina’s ways, but it thinks this is what it is supposed to feel, and assumes its lack of direction is because it is supposed to share that gift with you. We both may feel disappointed and powerless in this situation, but… maybe there is joy in that. Maybe, in our frustration, we are honoring Vaermina.

As it said, though, this is merely its conjecture. Vaermina is a Prince of Impossible Beauty and Unknowable Mystery. If a conjurer desires straightforward communication, they might find more satisfaction dealing with younger entities such as the Ideal Masters.

®, the lilmothiit skeleton adds.

Additional resource credits:
AMK – jumpscare

You try, for the many-thousandth time, to ingest one of the phrases. Perhaps your command over the dream-creatia has finally crossed the threshold where it can emulate taste? You did unlock the secret to making the glyph just earlier this century.

Additional resource credits:
AMK – third dimension magic

Oh, right. Bi-hourly mindwipe.

Not wanting to be rude, you think about how you are Katia Managan (officially on file as “Slutty Meatsack”), a novice conjurer who is very happy to meet the skeleton and hopeful that you aren’t interrupting its swim. How’s the water?

The skeleton smiles with a warm reassurance that you are not impeding its assigned recreational activities^[1]. Another one of the Makers’^® glorious creations^† will simply take up the skeleton’s role for the remaining six laps the skeleton was preordained^‡ to swim before departing. As for the water, the pool is actually filled with lost souls undergoing the intermediate steps of Purification^[2] – a lengthy but necessary^{‡†[3][4][5]} process wherein they are stripped of their fears, sorrows, and diversity as to more clearly comprehend the perfection of the Makers^® and their ways.

Sounds refreshing, you think in response. Anyway, you were wondering if the skeleton could help you get in contact with a Daedric plane?

At first you are confused by the sudden sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach, but then you realize: what you are feeling is the skeleton’s impassioned concern for your wellbeing. It ponders the many ways in which dealings with Daedric entities and their associated planes can be highly dangerous^[6]. Unlike CairnCorp^®, which prides itself on providing a safe^‡‡ and enjoyable^‡‡† summoning experience with clear rules and friendly, supportive customer service^[7], Daedra pride themselves in lies, half-truths, and taking advantage of those who reach out to them for aid^[8]. While its bones shudder to think such things, the skeleton is even aware of rumors that Daedra will breach contracts they have signed.

You focus on your awareness of the dangers, but stress to the skeleton that you’re not looking for summoning or contracts – you’re looking for information. You’ve been plagued by strange nightmares since you were a little girl, and from what you’ve been able to figure out, Vaermina isn’t the one making them – but she might know who is. As much as you wish it were a problem the Soul Cairn could help with, not everything can be solved with a summoned skeleton.

The skeleton notes that CairnCorp^® also offers an aesthetically tasteful^‡‡‡ line of flying bonekin for problems where an ordinary bonekin is inadequate.

You regretfully note that this is also a problem that can’t be solved with flying skeletons. But ah, if it makes the skeleton feel any better, you’ve had pretty good luck with Daedra recently. Yesterday you licked one, and then earlier today you had a friendly conversation with one up until she put a corn cob on a grill and sat on it. Assuming the pattern holds, this next interaction with a Daedra might be almost normal.

Very well. Wishing you safety, the skeleton sends a prayer to the Chapel of Rerouting with directions to forward your leyline to an open representative in Quagmire. You are currently number 436 in line at the Chapel of Rerouting.

Let me guess, it will take centuries to happen?

The skeleton estimates it will take about six minutes. It involves pushing a single button, but one bonekin handles all the requests.

Oh! Nice.

No, it’s probably not a good idea. But if Gaius’ story is true, then Vaermina might be the only person (or, vaguely person-shaped otherworldly being) with any leads as to where your royalty nightmares are coming from. As for the P-word, you only used it so the skeleton would know what you were talking about. In your head, she’s just the goddess of nightmares.

As much as you’d like to just leave all this stuff in the past and just live your happy, new life as a Guild wizard… you can’t. Your past followed you. Sooner or later, you’re going to have to sleep, and then it’ll be right back to the nightmare that had you drinking yourself into a stupor for years. And sure, dealing with Daedra might be dangerous, and the chances of finding any actual answers are slim. But you have a motivation now that you’ve never had any point prior in your life:

Something to lose.

That is a risk, yes. But it’s like Zapo said above: you have information she wants. She told Gaius that the nightmares’ creator would try to communicate eventually, and that he should contact her when they did.

The skeleton doesn’t understand who Zapo is.

Oh! Right, you… forgot the leyline was still open. You guess when thoughts come to your head you like to pretend they are from other people and give those people names. Your mind is pretty active, and while some of the thoughts are helpful, a lot of them are things like “have sex with that guy”, “randomly drop dead”, or “eat that book” (that one in particular comes up a disconcerting amount). If you pretend the thoughts are all being shouted out by a crowd of different people, it’s less weird than coping with the reality that your own fucked up mind is the one behind it all.

So the names are a sort of classification system, where thoughts of different types are assigned to different fictional entities and valued accordingly, the skeleton wonders?

No, not really. It’s complicated. Like, the only other thing Zapo ever said to me was that something may have happened to the Legionnaire I was planning to travel with, so I should be careful traveling alone. But that was something a lot of people said, so I didn’t really feel the need to acknowledge it from Zapo specifically? But, it’s not as if Zapo is the designated “tell Vaermina about the messages and don’t travel alone” person; it’s more that I give those particular thoughts more credence because Zapo and so many of the other fictional people all said it?

The skeleton asks if you’re alright. You tell it you don’t know.

So, ah, I don’t suppose you know anything about what Vaermina likes? You explain to the skeleton that you want to make a good first impression, and a gift or other offering seems like a good start. You know she has an affinity for the finer arts, but the only thing you have in that vein is a pen, and you kind of don’t want to give it up, as it’s your only pen.

Memories, the skeleton responds.

How do you… give someone memories?

The skeleton explains that one common method is the use of Cairncorp’s^® MAXCapacity Soul Gems, which are available at designated retailers^[9] for the price of 500 septims (7530 Akaviri roundmarks). Thanks to Cairncorp’s^® patented PowerCharge technology, simply handling your CairnCorp^® MAXCapacity Soul Gem will cause it to absorb small^‡‡‡† and replaceable^‡‡‡‡ portions of your soul, which reviews left by Vaermina worshippers cite^[10] is commonly sufficient to appease their Prince. This use is not encouraged or endorsed by CairnCorp^®, and neither CairnCorp^® nor its subsidiaries are responsible for any resultant injury, madness, or death that may arise from the misuse of its products and/or services. Your closest retailer of these misusable products is Baeralorn in Anvil.

The skeleton notes, however, that you are unlikely to be granted an audience with Vaermina herself. The Chapel of Rerouting will connect you to one of her Omens, who may forward your call further if your inquiry is judged as being of sufficient importance.