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Beforehand heading to the desert, Jon had to see Isha one more time and so did Illindar. The girl who suffered the most in this situation is definitely her and she knows things. Things that might help them.

Jon knew that Isha wreaked havoc in a Daedric cult that belonged to Boethiah which angered the Prince. That’s why she became a Labourer.

Jon’s first lead is Boethiah it or rather her prophet, Hafiz. An elderly Redguard that pointed Isha’s Labours to her. The thing is... Boethiah gave Isha a blessing and a powerful one at that. He was hesitant to blame Boethiah for Isha’s plight.

More to that, Hircine was the one who cursed Zain with Lycanthropy but that didn’t make sense in a way. Hircine rarely punished with Lycanthropy as he considers it his Gift.

But the fact that Zain became a Werewolf can only point to that. Curses and Rituals varied and gave mortals a lot of control over powers unknown. It is completely possible that a curse exists outside logic and law.

Sadly, Isha didn’t speak a word.

Still, what links the curse put by Hircine to Boethiah? Why would Isha go after such a cult and cause herself to be a Laborer? What is the exact ritual that was cast on Zain? What happened on his last journey for a cure? Where is Hafiz? And the most mind wrecking question, what makes Hircine allow his favorite weapon, the [Spear of Bitter Mercy], to be in the hands of the one with someone who searched for a cure to Lycanthropy let alone a Labourer?

Surely too many questions are confusing but bo crack the enigma, one must not fear questions.

"I heard you are going after clues." Miranda said as Jon was packing.

"Sorry to worry you but I won’t be late. The desert is relatively empty so I guess it won’t take long." Jon said.

"The desert is empty? You don’t know how wrong you are, mate." Illindar said.

"... And apparently, I am wrong." Jon turned to Miranda.

"Just don’t do anything stupid. Summon up that fake Dragon and cause havoc if it gets dangerous." She said.

"Oh! I’m glad you are used to my style already."

"Listen Jon... we were thinking that Isha can’t stay here. We will take her somewhere else." Mirren joined.

"Are sister Zahra and lady Nagla okay with it?"

"Yes, we shall finish our Martial exchange and think of someplace to take here. I was thinking of High Rock, Skyrim or Cyrodiil as places with better weather and green views."

"Good thinking, by the time you are done, I will be back and head out together." Jon said and jumped in his Atronach Camel.

Not long after, he was riding out of the Citadel grounds.

"I see you are traveling with three beauties. What a lucky man you are!" Illindar remarked.

"Hm?"

"You seem more intimate with the Elf with a bigger chest rather than her sister."

"You’re speaking of Miranda and Mirren."

"Those two. Pretty good looking for Altmer, I would say. They are also not rude or haughty."

"Mirren is a male." Jon said.

"..."

"You tried to hit on him?" Jon smirked.

"Ebonarm! It was a trap." Illindar said looking horrified.

"Exactly." (Jon)

"... I didn’t realize it at all!" (Illindar)

"It is common for a flat lover to fall for a trap." (Jon)

"I am not a flat lover. Most elves are flat so don’t judge me." (Illindar)

"Dark Elves are not that flat." (Jon)

"Wood Elves are chopping boards." (Illindar)

"Elves! What a sad creation of God!" (Jon)

"My point exactly. There is nothing equal to being a human." (Illindar)

"Not Breton though. They mixed with elves and degenerated to be flat as well." (Jon)

"This is a strong point indeed." (Illindar)

"Argonians are gross too." (Jon)

"Exactly. Do you know that they grow horns from random places? I am just wondering how can you put your head on a pillow when you have a horn. Khajiits are so much better." (Illindar)

"Ah, I see you are a man of culture as well." (Jon)

And the two racist men of culture entered the desert while badmouthing every single living being on Tamriel.

***

Two days passed in the endless desert of the Alik’r. The destination of the two was obvious, where it all started.

Isha’s brother was powerful, he made a lot of enemies who later used Isha to lure him out of the Citadel far where they can perform a dark ritual. Here where the ritual was held.

A stone formation in the middle of buttfuck nowhere.

The stones looked natural yet pointy and by the doing of age, whatever trace left can be meters under the sand. Deserts like this are known to move by the effect of wind like the waves of see, except extremely slow.

Now to the Dare part. Usually, no one can investigate such a place but not everyone has the extraordinary tools in Jon’s arsenal.

Jon took out [Pride] and the containment chest locking the Elder Scroll of Sun.

Checking that there is no one beside Illindar is watching, held his staff and the Elder Scroll. He held the head of the staff to the scroll and channeled a powerful gust of Magicka.

"What are you doing?" Illindar senses the unnatural move in the Magicka surrounding them and retreated back.

"Pulling out answers." Jon grit his teeth as he put his all into his work.

As he was done channeling energy through the Elder Scroll, he out the scroll back right away. What he created, however, was something strange.

In front of him and in the middle of the stone formation, there was a strange motion in reality that resembled a small vortex of light distortion.

"What is that?" Illindar approached after feeling the situation becoming safer.

"Temporal Flux." Jon said.

"And the none mages call it?" Illindar questioned.

"Time Wound."

"Ebonarm!"

By using the Elder Scroll, an Artifact that exists outside time, Jon could wound the time.

But why would anyone do such a thing as creating a Temporal Flux?

"What is it for?"

"Watch this."

Jon took out a random machine from the Cube and threw it in the flux. The small machine was made of many screws, small pieces, wires and a Magicka Reactor as the core.

Once the machine entered the Temporal Flux, the strangest of scenes happened. Those components making together the machine, all became their own pieces separated from the big device. Jon aimed his staff and pulled the Magicka Reactor with Telekinesis through the Temporal Flux. The device passed through the Temporal Flux and returned whole again save for the Magicka Reactor which was in Jon’s hand.

"Understand now?"

"So you use this to dismantle things without actually take them apart." Illindar said.

"Correct but that’s just the tip of the Iceberg. Temporal Fluxes are safe places to read the Elder Scrolls without catching side effects and there is another use that I am doing right now." Jon said.

The Temporal Flux he created was similar to this one on the Throat of the World only much smaller and weaker. A few hours and this wound will fix itself.

Jon needed this dangerous Temporal Flux to cast a spell that needs recent records from the world. By casting it on the time wound, it would bypass the rule of recency. This spell is Jon’s [Ghosts of Time], the Master-level Mysticism spell he used in the Arena to summon version of his opponents to fight for him.

This time, he wanted to summon a version of the people who were here years ago and fought on the night when Isha’s brother, Zain, was cursed.

Pulling these records was a tedious job but thankfully, Illindar knew the exact date of the event and Jon didn’t have to search around so much. In a few minutes, golden specters started appearing on the stone formation around circling two other golden specters.

It was obvious what it was. Isha, or rather a younger version of her, was there. A tall man holding a spear in each hand with a punch of golden specters lying around him, a strange trace of magic seemed to be binding them around and the golden specters on the stone formation were moving their lips chanting a ritual.

"Pause! Rewind from a minute earlier! Stop!" Jon gave commands to [Pride] which was supporting the spell by itself while floating on its own.

Now for the not so fun part.

Jon stepped near one of the curse casters whose face was exposed and focused on him. A ghost of time may have a good visualization but no vocalization so Jon couldn’t hear the spell normally. Instead, he was lip-reading and taking notes of the movements.

Lip reading wasn’t his thing so he had to rewind many times before he got the words of the curse confirmed, after that, he let the record play to the situation’s unfolding.

It was as the people of the Citadel said, Zain turned into a werewolf and a large one at that, in a fit of his rage, he took down all the opponents in the scariest of scenes.

Sadly, the Temporal Flux was already out of power as it seems that Jon’s spell has consumed it.

"Is it over?" Illindar asked.

"It is."

"There are really no secrets with such a spell around. Did you find out what kind of curse that is?"

"No... but I have its chant." Jon said looking at the note he just took.

’In the name of Darkness Endless, we call upon thee by the right of origin to fulfill our wish and create an object of the seal. Zain, become what you hate most, curses upon you, become what you despise most, curses upon you, become what you can’t bear to be.’

**********

(Part 2)

"And what is all that supposed to mean?" Illindar asked.

"The ritual was rather fast and simple. The casters were also decisive and focused. They bound Zain by a spell that had the base for the curse, they sent mercenaries at him which were clearly sacrifice to empower the Curse, Zain had to kill them even if he was knowledgeable how the curse worked, and finally the casters called for the Dark Entity that cursed Zain." Jon analyzed.

"You mean Hircine."

"This is becoming more confusing as it is. Hircine consider turning a mortal into a were-creature is a gift, not a curse."

"But were-creatures are entitled to Hircine and only Hircine."

"That’s not a solid argument. Molag Bal created the Vampires but there is a faction of the Vampires of Lamae Beolfag, the first Vampire who was turned by Molag Bal himself through , her descendants and the ones she turned carry nothing but hatred towards Molag Bal. Same can be said for a Werewolf like Zain who was turned against his will and came to hate Hircine who supposedly cursed him."

"Meaning?"

"The ritual said ’In the name of Darkness Endless’. The Daedric Princes are indeed made mostly of Darkness and negativity but they are not Endless, my friend. The only Darkness that is Endless is a King."

"There is no such thing as the Daedric King." Illindar retorted.

"I didn’t say a Daedric King. The Daedra are Immortal Original Spirits, becoming an Immortal is becoming a Royalty (CHIM), but as Daedric Princes, the rank of a Prince is not the top of the pyramid when it comes to Royalty, am I right?" Jon remarked.

"I know your words make sense but on a mortal level. What makes you think there is a King?"

"Ah! My less educated friend, I was just being deep with you. There is no such a term we know of as a King on the ranks of Royalty (CHIM). What I am talking about is an Original Spirit that is not Daedra or Aedra or anything equal to a Prince.

Your Redguards know him as Akel, an endless hunger that drives Satak (the First Serpent) to devour itself endlessly. Once it eats its heart, it dies then be reborn as Satakal, a new snake in which Spirits would come to know themselves. Outside Hammerfell, this story is known as the story of Anu and Padomay and how they evolved to create the Aurbis.

The King you know as Akel is the one we know as Sithis.

Sithis, Psijii, the Dread Father, the Spirit of Padomay, Darkness Endless and Void Everlasting."

Jon said his speech as he showed the text of the curse to Illindar.

"This is... if what you said is true then... there is a very dark cult involved here, right?" Illindar said with a pale face.

Jon, however, shook his head.

"It is no strange to worship Sithis, the Argonians and the Hist do, the Dark Brotherhood and the Morag Tong are the same. Satakal, the Redguard deity is a combination of Sithis and Anuiel.

The problem is that by contacting Sithis, you are basically open for all manners of Daedric Effects. Think of it, the whole Daedric Princes gang are not even as anything as Sithis despite being kinda his blood. This means he can do everything they can and that includes cursing a mortal like Zain with Lycanthropy."

"... Ruptga’s mercy."

The two were indeed on a big discovery. Finding the source of the Curse was certainly a big feet judging by how much did Zain struggle to find out the truth which he died without knowing.

"If only we had you two years..." Illindar was vexed by how could one man do what a whole organization could not.

But nothing can be done even after finding out the truth, Zain is dead and the Citadel of Ebonarm has lost the Top Candidate for a Battlelord position, the Spear Battlelord seat or even the Warchief seat.

"It is not over." Jon, however, had another opinion.

His Labour is still on and it is connected to Isha, things didn’t even begin and now Sithis is involved.

"What do you mean?" Illindar asked.

"This investigation is not over. There are people out there who passed down a ritual to contact Sithis to the traitors of the Citadel that cursed Zain. There is also the matter involving Isha and how Boethiah coaxed her into two years of Labour."

"You are a troublesome taskmaster, Krilon. Where is it you want to go next?"

"Known places of Daedric Cultists around the Alik’r Desert. I hope we are not far from any."

"Ahahaha!" Illindar laughed out loud and took out a map showing it to Jon. The map was full of red dots and different symbols that almost reached a hundred.

"Pick a cult."

"You’re kidding! This is supposed to be a desert."

"The Alik’r Desert is the best place to nearly hide a city if you want. So... what sort of cult you are interested in?"

"Goodness me! Let’s start with Boethiah and look for a man called Hafiz."

***

A few days later, the search of Jon and Illindar ended up through many cult caves, hidden tombs, open worship places and more. Sometimes they were allowed in with no problems, sometimes they had to knock down a few teeth to get answers.

After searching for a while, they found the old man known as Hafiz but it was not what they hoped for.

"My great-great-grandfather has lived for 200 years, he was quite energetic and strong until the last time I saw him. Once he came from the last trip, it was as if age has caught up to him in the matter of a few days. He lost his sight, hearing, and can barely say anything now."

The one who received them was one of the descendants of Hafiz, a middle-aged man.

"I understand." Jon nodded.

"Come on, Krilon. What makes you believe this old man is 200 years old? What makes you believe any of all that?" Illindar said.

"His service is no longer needed, he is of no use to Boethiah anymore so she will let him die." Jon could pretty much tell the situation.

In the game, something like that happens and certain Prophet of a Daedra loses her privilege of being able to see visions sent by her mistress because her role was over.

The two kept asking the descendant of Hafiz of any information he knew about Boethiah and her deceiving Labourers but the man denied that.

"Lady Boethiah is the Deceiver of Nations, not individuals. Her schemes are more political or catastrophic rather than deceiving people for fun. Sheogorath, Clavicus Vile and Molag Bal are the ones who do that sort of things. It doesn’t mean that the other Daedric Princes do not lie. They all do but their goals align with their spheres of power. Lady Boethiah is a Warrior Prince, warriors do not use petty lies but rathers conspiracies and tricks to conquer as I said."

And that was another suspect crossed for now.

The two men left with a load of things to analyze.

Hircine is not the one who cursed Zain and Boethiah did not really deceive Isha as Isha’s purpose was to return to her brother.

"We are out of clues." Jon said.

"By the results you achieved, I say you did your best." Illindar said.

"No, that was nothing. I have a gut feeling that there is more to it, we just need guidance. I tried to ’Clairvoyance’ but as good as I am in Mysticism, as shitty as I am in Divination."

"Well, I’ll sleep for now and leave the night for you too brood, Krilon. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

The two were camping in the desert at night. Illindar returned to the tent and Jon remained sitting beside the fire gazing at the bright stars on the flawless night sky.

Stars he knew off and stars he didn’t study yet, Jon couldn’t help but call out the bored Nefertiti.

"Where have you been?" He asked.

"Making friends."

"In the desert?"

"Yes, Hooman. There are cats in the desert too."

"Right, the sand cats. Pretty cute fellas. And so... you managed to make them acknowledge you as Her Meowjesty the Cat Supreme?"

"It is called Cat Empress."

"You are really intending to conquer the world, aren’t you?"

"Naturally."

"Don’t tell me you are going to use the Numidium."

"We are calling it the Fluffidium."

"I think I might know a couple of Dwarves who may get grumpy after hearing that! Anyway, when do I expect the promised liberation day?"

"We keep delaying it. Sunshine has a daily nap she can’t miss and Onyx is adopting a human family. We delayed it a few more years."

Jon couldn’t help but laugh. This invasion has been delayed so many times already to the point that it may not happen in this era.

"The important this is... did your agents report anything related?"

"Not really, but I have the allegiance of every Feline kind in the desert. If you are looking for anything in particular, they can help us, Hooman."

"How fluffy of them! Thank you in advance then, I’ll let you know once I need anything."

Nefertiti went back to her world domination plan and Jon sank in thinking once again.

His information Network has spread to a scary degree by now. Nefertiti was amazing and all but what is also amazing is his Titanborn bloodline power [Beastmaster] and the [Blessing of the Guardian Dragon]. His affinity with felines is so high along with Nefertiti having an extension of his Soul, she is freely using that power to get along with most cats as long as she makes them submit. Jon can also talk to those cats and listen to them even if he doesn’t do so most often.

Anyway, the important thing is that he can monitor the Alik’r Desert now thanks to this.

But he still doesn’t have a destination to go after.

While he was thinking, his eyes closed and he slept without realizing.

In his sleep, he was standing in Winterhold near the Shrine of Azura. He looked up to the large statue of Azura and it moved its head looking down at him.

{When you corrupted my Star, a spark of my power was stolen and hidden in the Abyss. Seek out my spark and set it free.}

{In the Abyss, secrets and worlds meet. Seek the Abyss among the sands, a gate guarded by two, one that always lies and one that does not.}

{Time is your only ally. With it, you will survive the Abyss.}

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