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.
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