Mother Knows Best (Open)

Mother and Father.. That was what a child usually looked up to, but for the long time, Sithis had been wife-less. Until the Night Mother came about and brought about a worship for him that he had never seen before in Skyrim. It was a grace that traveled through the land mysteriously and silently. Killing and torturing was done in his name, but nothing came close to what his wife had done. He could remember the way she told him that the deed was done. A lone whisper through her mind to his; it gave him a feeling that brushed across his spine and made him shiver in delight.

Since the Night Mother did not have a living body, she tended to switch hosts quite frequently. Sometimes Sithis didn’t know who to expect, but once he was in Mundus, his senses easily brought him to her.. The vessel on her soul. The soul of his dark wife. Maybe the one thing he could say he “loved”, even though he didn’t necessarily feel true human emotions. “Love” was a strong word, but as the time wore on, he could say that he does feel happiness when around her. Maybe that was enough.

Opening his eyes, Sithis found himself in the Sanctuary, the giant circular stained mosaic glass behind him. The table in front of him was empty, as was the room. He could see no one within range, but he could feel many presences. One in particular stood out, in the direction of the Night Mother’s coffin. Of course, he knew that she would be there. Even if not, he would be there, waiting for her.

As he felt his bare feet hit the cobblestone of the floor, his form shifted slightly and everything seemed brighter. Balling his hands into fists, he looked to them and smirked slightly. He loved the feeling of a body made of flesh, until his form in the Void which consisted of shadows. He stretched quickly, bones creaking as he did so. He wondered what kind of greeting he would get this time. Slowly, but with purpose, Sithis made his way towards the stairs that would bring him to his favorite follower. The stairs felt rough on his skin and he relished in it as he slowly went up the stairs.

Crimson eyes gazed at the female in the throne, a small smirk curving his lips in amusement. She looked positively bored, munching on an apple and reading the book titled Darkest Darkness, a book about the worshipping of the Daedra. A chuckle escaped from Sithis’ throat at the sight. “Daedras are beneath you, “Mother”.”