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themangledsans0508 · 4 years

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Something Stronger than Poison Chapter 2

“If you leave after we dine, then you can arrive at the crown of dusk so you’ll be harder to see,” Yumyan declared.

“We’ll give you an axe so you can defend yourself, one that’s lightweight so it doesn’t make it harder for you to move,” Molly collaborated.

“I really don’t need an axe, if I could just have a stick or something-”

“We’re under attack!” Ruffles burst in the room. Everyone turned to look at him.

“What? Who? Where?” Yumyan dug his claws into the table, his eyes narrowing into slits.

“Humans! Near the sunbathing mound! They shot at us already, there’s no time to waste!”

“Yumyan owns you all!” Yumyan ran out, both his axes in his paws followed closely by Molly. Everyone paused for a moment before swiftly following.

Kipo already had her paws out as she ran past the cell tower, only pausing when she heard a voice coming from the tower. She looked from the tree to her friends before going in for a quick look. Just for a short time, they wouldn’t miss her and they probably didn’t need her, they were all competent fighters.

The inside of the tower was empty, save for a staircase and a chair presumably for the guard to keep watch. She crept down the stairs, looking around for the source of the voice. There were three cells with the room with low torches by each one. In the corner of the cell sat Scarlemange, his head turned far enough to the side so he could see Kipo.

“Scarlemange?” He chuckled.

“Who else would you expect?” Kipo blinked a few times, trying to find the right words.

I thought you were in the cage,” she said. Scarlemange howled in laughter at Kipo’s shocked expression.

“Am I not in a cage? Do humans not consider these cells do be cages themself?” He bared his teeth in a grin. “I jest, I know what you are referring to, Kipo. The kennel is simply for transport.”

“Oh. I didn’t realize that,” she mumbled.

“Now, I couldn’t help but overhear that Emilia’s humans are attacking now, and well, Kipo, you’ve given me a lot to think about,” he sighed, turning away from her. “I want to offer my assistance, no strings attached. I understand if you don’t want to accept it, but I thought since I have the chance I’d put it out there.”

Kipo hesitated, studying his face. Despite him not facing her, she could make out his remorseful expression. His eyes were clouded in a sadness she had only seen when her father would talk about her mother while they were underground or whenever Wolf mentioned or reminded of her previous pack. His lips curled downwards in a frown and his shoulders were hunched and his legs pulled up to his chest. The expression his face held could be faked, but the emotion in his eyes could not.

Still, she had to think rationally. She put her hand through the bars, which once Scarlemange observed, he took. She looked at him sadly.

“I’m sorry, Hugo.” His eyes widened at the name. “I believe you, but right now I’m the only one. You have to talk to dad. Once you two get everything figured out, I’ll convince Yumyan to let you out.” He tightened his grip on Kipo’s hand slightly, startling her and causing the fur that had receeded to grow back. He looked in shock before he laughed weakly.

“You don’t trust me. You’re scared I’ll hurt you. My own baby sister is scared of me.” He smiled at her. “Do send Lio my way when you get the chance, will you? I want to prove myself.” He took his hand away and went back into the corner. “Now, go protect your friends and our family.” Kipo nodded. Before she jumped up the stairs, she paused one last time.

“You’re like me, there’s a part of you that’s out of your control. We’ll help you get in control of it, I promise.”

She bolted out of the tree, the fur on her legs allowing her to run fast enough to still be able to help in the fight. When she finally arrived, she saw a band of around twenty humans, ten fighting their own men and ten attacking her mother, who seemed to be barely affected by their crossbows, swords, and knives. Song had picked up a few and just holding them to keep them out of the way without hurting them.

While there were a lot of cats were around them they were keeping their distance presumably on Yumyan’s orders. He and Molly fought back-to-back against two humans, their axes moving so fast they were just a blur. Benson was having what looked to be a blast getting into a fistfight with a muscular man who seemed to like wearing the plague doctor’s mask even in a fight. Troy jumped from battle to battle, looking for whoever needed the most help from him. Dalia wielded her axe like she was a Timbercat, locked in an even scuffle with a man her height who she was speaking to with venom in her voice. Asher looked to be having fun, her and Dave working together so they could throw him into the fray. Lio and Roberto had three men between them they were keeping away from Song. Wolf had three people she was dealing with, all at least twice her height. She had a stick about the length Stalky had been, having most likely cut it while they ran.

During the brief second Kipo was observing the scene Dave flew past her, and she whipped her head around to watch him tackle a woman who was a few feet behind her with her sword poised and ready.

“Herbs in,” she mumbled and her paws, the fur on her legs, and her ears came out, and she jumped in, grabbing a human from both Wolf and her dad, throwing them across the hilltop. One of them had a crossbow, and the other a sword. While she was running at them she had no problem dodging the bolts shot her direction. She retracted her claws so she wouldn’t leave any cuts from but just so she could bat them around. She dived out of the way for an arrow and had to quickly roll to avoid a sword aimed at her head.

She swatted her sword-wielded opponent off her feet and charged at the crossbow armed man, kicking his weapon out of his hand. She racked her brain to see if she recognized him from her burrow. Coming to the conclusion she didn’t, she smiled and offered her hand.

“You probably already know who I am, but just in case, my name is Kipo. We’re not going to hurt you, we want to tell you the truth, what Dr Emilia isn’t telling you.” The man looked at her in fear before turning and running, causing Kipo to let out an irritated huff. “I guess you don’t want to hear it.” Her ears twitched slightly and she heard footsteps she had initially mistaken as the man running away continuing to come closer.

She jumped to the side a second too late, the sword cutting her calf. Not too deep to make her unable to walk, but more than enough to make roar.

The entire field froze, everyone turning to look at her. Somebody whistled, and the members of the human resistance fled. Wolf was the first by her side, kneeling down next to her.

“What happened,” she asked. Kipo’s hands that had subconsciously grabbed her leg as soon as the threat was gone moved so she could see.

“I got cut. It’s fine.” She smiled to prove it but Wolf was already closely inspecting it. It was messy, blood already coating her leg and staining the ground. Wolf was already grabbing her shirt with the intent to rip it when Lio came over and picked Kipo up.

“Looks like it’ll need stitches, I’ll sow it up once we get inside.”

Wolf easily kept up with Lio’s long strides, staying right next to them as they walked. Everyone else fell in a row behind them, save for Molly andYumyan, who took the front.

“Our doctor is in a tree right next to our scratching tree, I’ll lead the way.”

“We’ll lead you to it,” Molly corrected.

Inside the tree, Most looked away as Lio stitched Kipo’s leg. Wolf kept her focus on Kipo, talking to her until Dave tapped her.

“Don’t you have something to do right now?” Wolf shook her head.

“Not anymore.” She looked at Kipo regretfully. “If I had been paying better attention this wouldn’t have happed.”

“Wolf, you were fighting two people at once, three before I took one! And you were holding your own I had to help!”

“It got you hurt.” Kipo reached over and grabbed her hand. Wolf looked away. “I’m okay, I swear.”

“But you’re not,” she argued. “I’m gonna go. I have to make sure this doens’t happen again.” Kipo squeezed her hand.

“Please be safe,” she begged.

“I will. I’ll be back in two days at most.” Kipo watched her walk out and looked at Benson.

“She’ll be fine Kipo, she’s a survivor,” he assured her.

“I hope you’re right,” she sighed.

Check this out on AO3!

#kataow #kipo and the age of wonderbeasts #wolf/kipo #fanfiction #chara writes #something stronger than poison #sstp

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mazurah · 6 years

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Lost in Time Ch. 27: Children - An Elder Scrolls Fanfic

Chapter Summary: Ma’zurah gets into a fight and tells a story.

Cross posted from Ao3. Chapter Rating: T for swearing, including swearing at children, and the aftermath of very implicit child abuse.

First Chapter - Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

Lost in Time Chapter 27: Children

Ma'zurah led Logrolf down the hall from the room of sleeping children to the entrance hall. “Ma'zurah needs to talk to you. Ma'zurah has to warn you that Molag Bal is determined to make you submit. He tried to get Fayrl and Ma'zurah to bring you to him.”

“So you have heard of me,” Logrolf laughed. “Well, of course you have! I am sure that Molag Bal did ask that of you. I have desecrated his altar on multiple occasions and he has been powerless to prevent me! Lady Boethiah gives her faithful her protection, so I am free to spit in the face of her enemies. Once I have gathered the necessary reagents, I will venerate his altar in Boethiah's name, as I did before.”

Ma'zurah looked alarmed. The man might be rude, but he didn't deserve to be subjected to whatever Molag Bal had planned for him. No one did. “The House of Troubles are not Princes to be trifled with! They provide trials to be endured and survived! Even with the protection of the Covenant, dealings with them walk the edge of a knife! And Mazurah can assure you, desecrating their altars is not under the Covenant!”

“You do not understand. How could you? A Khajiit would have no understanding of the power of such a god.” Logrolf looked at Ma’zurah with smug sympathy. “You think the pitiful Molag Bal can best Boethiah's faithful? I have won this contest before! I leave the rescuing of children to you, but you leave the work of the Queen of Shadows to those who know her best."

Ma'zurah bared her teeth. How dare he?! She was trying to help him! She had numbered him among her allies and he was questioning even her competence! “Logrolf knows not to whom he speaks. Ma'zurah is the Champion of Azurah. Ma'zurah is well aware of the power of Azurah’s brother-sister, and she is giving Logrolf this warning: to become involved in the wars of the gods is to risk becoming crushed between them. Ma'zurah speaks from firsthand experience. She provides this warning out of the respect she holds Lord Boethiah and his teachings.”

“Champion? You?” Logrolf curled his lip at her in derision. “I think you misunderstand the meaning of the term. And even were you using it correctly, you are still young. I have a lot of experience in these matters. I understand the risks and rewards involved. The Queen of Deceit has shown her pleasure with my efforts! Your warnings are unnecessary. Though I suppose I should thank you for using so much of your mental faculties to relay them.”

Heat rushed to Mazurah’s face and she was filled with a blind need to make this man respect her authority. Her tail puffed and she gave a low warning growl. “You will show respect! This one is at least four times older than you could ever hope to live! She has learned more than you could ever hope to learn! She has spoken with Princes and Gods and retained both her loyalty and her sanity!”

“Not as though you had much to lose,” Logrolf scoffed. “Still, you have proven your usefulness in freeing me from my confines at the hands of those butcher barbarians. I shall have to give you a payment befitting your deeds when I have my possessions back. I think ten gold is fair for your hard won efforts.”

Ma’zurah’s temper snapped. She hissed and her tail lashed behind her. She held out both hands, palms toward herself, claws unsheathed, displayed the Ring of Azura and the Signet of Sheogorath sitting side by side her wedding ring on one hand, and the Ring of the Redoran Hortator and the Moon and Star on the other. “Do not insult this one! There can be no doubt that this one is who she says she is! You may think this one a weakling of Azurah, but this one exists because she has the will to do so! And she shall remain as long as there are signs of her handwork!” She dropped her hands and took a menacing step toward the taller man. “This one has suffered much that cannot be suffered! This one has weighed matters that no astrolabe or compass can measure! She warns you, there is no bone that cannot be broken except for the Heart bone; this one has seen it twice in this one's lifetimes!”

Logrolf crossed his arms and pressed his thin lips together, looking thoroughly unimpressed. Ma'zurah barreled on, angrier by the moment. “Your actions in the past may have pleased your Lord, and that is all very well and good. But this one thinks perhaps you do not truly understand the teachings of the Deceiver of Nations. To truly understand, you must know that the secret of weapons is this: they are the Mercy Seat!”

The priest snorted and rolled his eyes. Ma'zurah kept going, snarling as she spoke, determined to make him back down. “This one offers you one last warning for the sake of your devotion to the Devourer of Trinimac: peril falls upon those who offer insult to the Child of Azurah, for she guards her name with all the selfishness of the sea! You will show this one the respect this one has earned!”

Logrolf looked at her as one would a piteous thing; as though she was someone to humor. “I cannot deny you have bravado. You are well learned in your practiced speech as well. But I am not so as blind as to be swayed by mere trinkets or pretty words. I follow the God of Deception. And yes, let me guess, you're a master of theft as well as of killing savages. Bravo. But I hardly think there is much impressive about a Khajiit thief. It is what your people are good at. Why, I hear half of Riften these days are just your sort of people. Though, from the level of importance of your prizes, I am going to assume you befriend the great followers of the Daedra then steal from them. Is that why you are truly here? To try and steal from me as well?"

Mazurah saw red.

There was a yowl audible from outside the fortress. Squeals came from the room of Forsworn children as the ground shifted slightly.

Fayrl stopped playing his lute and laid it gently on the steps, giving the horse a reassuring pat and whispering to it to sleep until he woke it.

“Fjotra, I will check inside. Stay with Miss Horse and make sure she doesn't wake up. If something bad happens, I want you to get on Miss Horse, tell her ‘Hava’, and ride her as far from here as you can.”

Without waiting for confirmation, he ran back into the fortress. He only hoped that Ma’zurah was alright.

Ma’zurah had the priest pinned to the ground at the bottom of the steps of the entrance hall. She was straddling the man’s chest with one forearm against his neck and attempting to grab his wrists with her other hand.

From around the side of the door at the top of the stairs, three heads watched the scene unfolding in the hall.

“Ma’zurah was trying to give a friendly warning!” Ma'zurah hissed in the man’s face, baring her teeth. “But Logrolf had to be disrespectful at every turn and accuse this one of lying and of attempting to steal from him!” Her tail swished through the air angrily, all her fur puffed on end.

“Ma’zurah!” Fayrl yelled, “you cannot kill him!” He ran and pulled Ma’zurah bodily off the the priest, his arms under hers, gripping her by the shoulders.

The moment Ma’zurah was off him, Logrolf began coughing and scurried backwards until his back hit the stone wall. “She's mad! She's trying to kill me!”

Ma’zurah’s paws scrabbled under her, trying to gain traction to stand. “Why not?!” she demanded. “We shall have the trial of Boethiah’s proving! This one will live because that one will die!” She hissed in the priest’s direction and her lashing tail whipped at Fayrl’s legs.

“Mephala's left testicle!” cried Fayrl. We can't just kill a priest of the Three! This isn't one of Boethiah's provings! We are here to rescue people! Not to murder them! You haven't done any of the rites for that sort of thing!”

Logrolf drew the sword he had taken from the undead Forsworn. “I will defend myself if necessary, I warn you, cat!”

Fayrl whirled towards the man with one outstretched arm and summoned webs, pinning the man flat against wall. “You, shut up!”

He looked at Ma’zurah in his arms. “Have you forgotten about the children you were not supposed to be waking up?”

The three heads popped back behind the door with a collective gasp.

Ma’zurah gained her footing and stood, wrenching herself out of Fayrl’s grasp and brushing herself off. She glared at Fayrl. “Ma’zurah was trying to warn this wafiit about the plans of the Lord of Domination! But then he insulted this one!”

Fayrl sighed. “Do you kill everyone who insults you?” he asked tiredly, feeling the strain of using so many of his taxing skills in a row. It had been a long time since he’d had to fight so much, and he had grown unaccustomed to it. “And what are we going to do about the children now?”

The door slammed shut and there was a great commotion of scraping furniture behind the door.

“What is this disgusting pile of white excrement!” Logrolf spat. “I am a revered priest of Boethiah! How dare you treat me in this manner, you horse sodomizing simpleton!”

Ma’zurah gave Fayrl a sweet smile. “Nooo… Of course Ma’zurah does not try to kill everyone who insults her! Only the ones who should know better!”

Fayrl stalked over the the priest, ignoring Ma’zurah. He glared at Logrolf. “I thought I told you to be silent. You can do it on your own, or I will make you do it.”

“Oh, a threat! I see neither one of you can escape the confines of your natures. A thieving cat and a violent Dark Elf. I am sure I have never heard of tha--”

Fayrl ripped his bloodied tunic over his head and jammed it in the priest’s mouth. “I see what you mean,” he told Ma’zurah. “Let's let him stew while we see what the children have gotten up to. Hopefully they don't have any more knives. I feel I've been stabbed enough for one day.”

“Sure, just one thing first.” Ma’zurah walked up to the glaring priest and kicked him in the shins. “Jekosiit!” she hissed. Logrolf gave a muffled cry and shouted something incoherent into the tunic in his mouth.

Ma'zurah turned and walked with calm poise back up the stairs into the hallway and knocked on the door. “Hello?” she called.

“Go away!” came a small voice on the other side of the door.

Fayrl followed Ma’zurah. He wasn’t sure how they would get the children out without frightening them further.

“This one is Ma’zurah! Ma’zurah is sorry for acting scary! What are your names?”

“Go away!” said a different voice. “We aren’t telling you anything!”

“What if she tries to open the door?” asked the voice from before in a hushed tone, still audible through the wooden door.

“We have all the furniture up against it, she can’t get us,” said a third voice.

Fayrl gave Ma’zurah a look. “We need to be delicate with this.”

“Maybe Fjotra can help,” Ma’zurah suggested. “Go get her?”

Fayrl gave her an uneasy look, but obeyed with a sigh. He made his way back down the stairs, flashing a warning look at Logrolf before he went out to where Fjotra was.

“How are we doing out here?” he asked the girl.

Fjotra looked up from petting the horse. “Fine. Can we go now?”

“We are almost ready. First, we want you to come and meet the other children that were kept here. That way we can all go together. But they are scared to leave. Do you think you could talk with them?”

Fjotra gave him a doubtful look but nodded. “I guess. Why are they scared to leave?”

“Well, Ma’zurah was having a disagreement with that priest and she was a little bit upset. I think the children are afraid she might be angry with them too.”

“Oh. Okay.” Fjotra walked inside, making a face as she skirted the blood summoning circle.

Fayrl hurried after her, cursing himself for not catching up before she could see the remnants of whatever horror occurred in the entranceway. He caught pace with her and walked up the stairs, hoping that Ma’zurah hadn’t blown the door open while he was gone.

Ma’zurah had entered the empty bedroom opposite the children’s room, and emerged holding a book and a pair of leather boots when she heard them coming. “Hey,” she offered.

Fayrl looked her up and down. “I brought Fjotra,” he said with a smirk.

Ma’zurah blinked at him. “What? Nevermind! Here.” She shoved the leather boots into his arms. “Try these on. Yours keep getting ruined.”

Fjotra giggled, and Ma’zurah winked at her.

Fayrl sat down on a step that didn’t look too messy and began to unlace his boots, grumbling under his breath as he did.

Ma’zurah turned to Fjotra. “So these children are in there. We need to make friends with them so they will not be scared anymore.”

“Okay,” said Fjotra. She went up to the door. “Can you hear me?”

There was a smattering of hissed whispers.

“Let me answer!” said one voice.

There was a brief silence.

“I can hear you. What do you want?”

Fjotra sat down on the floor in front of the door. “Um. I’m Fjotra. What’s your name?”

“Morva. What do you want?”

“To make friends. I heard you were scared, but you don’t have to be!”

“Who said I was scared? I’m not scared!”

“Oh! That makes it easy then. You’ll come with me? I want to go home now, but they said we couldn’t leave because you were scared.”

Ma’zurah opened her mouth as though to speak, then closed it with a look of consternation.

Fayrl grinned, one boot on. The kid was good.

“Why should I care about if you get to go home?” asked Morva.

“Um… Because you’re a nice person? I was kidnapped last night, and I had a dream that a lady with big furry ears came to rescue me, and then it happened! She’s really nice, you’d like her.”

Ma’zurah shot Fayrl a smug look.

Fayrl rolled his eyes. He was a bit jealous, but he would never admit to it.

“You’re supposed to be in the shrine!” Morva cried. “How’d you get out!”

Fjotra looked confused. “I just told you. I got rescued. Don’t you want to go home too?”

“This is my home! Momma said you were a gift for the gods! You need to go back to the shrine.”

“How’d she get out?” asked another voice.

“She said she was rescued.”

“But how do you get rescued from going to see the gods? Why wouldn’t you want to be there?”

“I don’t know! I’m just telling you what she said.”

Fjotra frowned. “They weren’t taking me to see the gods! They were going to kill me! They said so! And they put blood all over Dibella’s statue! Why would they do that?”

“That’s how you go to see the gods. You can’t be alive and see them, dummy.”

“But I don’t want to die! And I can see the gods anytime I go to the Temple! Sometimes Dibella comes to me in my sleep too! Dying isn’t the only way to see the gods!”

“It is not,” Ma’zurah chimed in. “Ma’zurah has seen seven gods with her own eyes, and talked to many more than that. Some of them even gave her gifts, and Ma'zurah is not dead yet.”

There was a hushed discussion inside before anything else was spoken.

“What do you want from us?” Morva asked finally.

Ma’zurah moved closer to the door. “Ma’zurah promises she will not hurt you. She just needs you to come with her to Karthwasten. That is all.”

“Just come out?” Fjotra pleaded. “Please? I wanna go home.”

“They’re gonna do something bad when we go out there!” cried another voice.

“Oh, hush, Tyran! We never said we were going out!” hissed Morva.

“I think that’s the angry lady’s voice,” said another child. “The one that did this to Dryston.”

“Yes, Ma’zurah was angry,” Ma’zurah explained patiently, “But Ma’zurah is not angry at you. She will not hurt you, and she did not hurt your friend. He is only sleeping, and Ma’zurah knows how to wake him up.”

There was a gasp inside. “Morva! They can wake Dryston!”

“I don’t trust it,” said the other child.

“Me either, Petra. They’re up to something.”

“Why are none of the grown ups stopping them?” asked Tyran.

“That’s a good question,” said Morva. “Hey! Dummies! What’d you do with our parents?”

Ma’zurah hesitated. “They are not here anymore. That is why you need to come with us to Karthwasten. Ma’zurah cannot leave you here by yourselves.”

“What do you mean, they aren’t here?” cried Petra. “Mommy wouldn’t leave me!”

“It’s a trick, Petra, don’t listen to them,” said Morva. “As long as we are in here, we are safe.”

Ma’zurah sat down on the floor in front of the door. “You like Hircine, right? Would you like to hear about the time Ma’zurah met Hircine?”

“How would you have met Hircine?” scoffed Morva.

“I wanna hear,” said Tyran.

“It’s just gonna be a lie anyways.”

“It is all completely true. Ma’zurah was on the island of Solstheim with her friends Julan, Shani, Constance, and Jasmine, and she was visiting an Imperial fort when the fort was attacked by werewolves.”

“Who are all those people?” asked Petra.

“I think the grey one is Jasmine and the guy the lady was beating must be Shani. I don’t know about the other two though….” Tyran trailed off.

“That’s not right!” said Morva. “Jasmine is a girl’s name! The grey one must be Constance. That’s a good man’s name.”

“No,” Ma’zurah explained, “the Dunmer with Ma'zurah now is named Fayrl, and the other one is Logrolf. Julan and Shani are both Dunmer, a boy and a girl, Jasmine is a Redguard girl, and Constance is a Bosmer girl. But it does not really matter. So these werewolves attacked, but Ma’zurah did not know they were werewolves. When they ran away, Ma’zurah found out that the commander of the fort, General Carius, had disappeared. So Ma’zurah went to the Skaal village to ask them if they knew where he was. The Skaal are a tribe of Nords who worship a god called the All-Maker and live in a very snowy part of the island of Solstheim.”

“This story has too many people. It’s boring,” said Tyran. “I want a better story.”

“I thought the story was about Hircine,” said Petra, disappointed. “Let’s get back in bed, Tyran.”

“This story is about Hircine,” Ma'zurah explained hastily. “Werewolves are the children of Hircine, do you not know that? And it has so many people because the world has a lot of people in it. But Ma’zurah will get to Hircine soon. Ma’zurah found out that she had to prove herself to the Skaal, so she did a lot of things to help them. Then, after a while, werewolves attacked the Skaal village too and kidnapped the Skaal leader. One of the werewolves even bit Ma’zurah and everyone thought she was going to become a werewolf!”

“Did it eat you?!” cried Tyran with excitement.

“She couldn’t be telling the story if it ate her, dummy!” mocked Morva.

“No it did not eat Ma’zurah,” she laughed. “It also did not turn Ma’zurah into a werewolf.”

Ma'zurah realized this was a difficult story to tell to children because she had to simplify it so much. She felt rather lame leaving out so many details. It had been significantly more complicated than she was making it sound, but she was trying to cater to the children's brief attention span. “Ma’zurah tried to find out where all the werewolves were coming from, and while she was looking for them she found out that all of the horkers had been killed and were lying dead on the beach!”

“Eww!” said Petra.

“Cool!” said Morva and Tyran.

That was a much better reaction than Mazurah had expected. They were engaged with the story now at least. “The shaman was very worried about this because the dead horkers were one of the signs of the Bloodmoon Prophecy, which foretold coming of the great hunt of Hircine. The shaman sent Ma’zurah to a castle made of ice called Castle Karstaag. Castle Karstaag was full of Rieklings. Rieklings are small blue goblins who live in icy places. Ma’zurah had to swim in freezing water to get into the castle, but when she got there, she met a Riekling named Krish. Ma’zurah was very surprised, because she did not expect any Rieklings to talk to her. Krish told Ma’zurah that the Riekling leader, a frost giant named Karstaag, had disappeared, and that Krish was trying to take over the castle. He made a deal with Ma’zurah to let Ma’zurah into the castle if Ma’zurah would help Krish become the new leader. So Krish took Ma’zurah into the castle, and inside Ma’zurah found out from the other Rieklings that werewolves had kidnapped the Riekling leader, Karstaag.”

“Did the werewolves go like ‘Rawr!’ and eat the head off the reekly things?” asked Tyran.

“Why would a werewolf want to eat a ice goblin?” Petra retorted. “It’d be too cold to eat.”

Ma'zurah was losing their attention again. She huffed a frustrated breath. Why was she so bad at telling stories to children? “Ma’zurah did not see any werewolves in the ice castle,” she explained quickly. “She only heard what the Rieklings said. But Ma’zurah thought that it was very strange that werewolves would kidnap an ice giant, so she went to tell the Skaal shaman. That night, Ma’zurah got kidnapped by werewolves!”

“And then did they eat you?” asked Tyran.

“Gods, you’re so thick!” said Morva. “If you get eaten by a werewolf you don’t get to tell a story about it.”

“Unless you’re a ghost,” said Petra.

There was a tiny gasp from Tyran. “You’re a ghost lady!”

“I should throw you outside with the ghost lady,” said Morva.

Ma'zurah sighed. “Ma’zurah did not get eaten by werewolves, and she is not a ghost. When Ma’zurah woke up, she was in a room full of werewolves and a man with skin like the coat of a deer and a head like the skull of a stag told her he was Hircine and that Ma’zurah had been chosen as Prey for the Wild Hunt, and all the werewolves were going to hunt her now!”

“Coooooool!” said Tyran.

“Lucky,” muttered Morva.

“Not so lucky! Ma’zurah did not want to die!” It was one of the worst memories of her life, but she could hardly tell the children that. “Hircine did not give her a choice about it. The next thing she knew, she had been taken to a giant maze under the ice! And there she met General Carius, the Imperial commander who had disappeared! Hircine told Carius and Ma’zurah that there was a key out of the maze, and that only one person would be able to use it. Carius was a nice man though, and he said that maybe we could find a way for both of us to escape, so we worked together to run through the maze full of werewolves until we found the key and got to the center of the maze. General Carius got hurt though, so he told Ma’zurah to take the key and use it to get out of the maze. He thought Ma’zurah stood a better chance of surviving whatever Hircine was going to throw at us next.”

“How did you breathe under the ice?” asked Tyran.

“Just shut up and listen,” said Morva.

“It was a great big cave that had been carved into a glacier, that is how. But Ma’zurah used the key to open a portal, and the next thing she knew she was in a different maze, and there was the leader of the Skaal who had also been kidnapped. So Ma’zurah tried to team up with him too, but no matter how much we looked, we could not find the key. When we made it to the center of the maze, the Skaal leader turned on Ma’zurah, and Ma’zurah found out that he had the key the whole time, and he was actually a werewolf too!”

“Woah!” all three of the children cried.

“Did he--”

“I swear, if you ask if she was eaten one more time, I am throwing you outside,” warned Morva.

Tyran was silent.

“Ma’zurah fought him and took the key, and this time Ma’zurah found herself in a room with an ice giant! Hircine appeared and told Ma’zurah that the ice giant, Karstaag, was going to fight her for the right to enter the last part of the Wild Hunt! So Ma’zurah had to fight him to survive the Wild Hunt!”

There was silence for a moment.

“What? You said I couldn’t ask,” pouted Tyran.

“Good,” said Morva.

“So how did you fight a frost giant?” asked Petra.

“With fire, of course! Ma’zurah threw fire at it until it fell over, but it was very difficult.” It had been more than difficult. It had been a long and exhausting fight that Ma'zurah had only survived by flying to a high ledge to heal herself and wait for her magicka to regenerate. “After that, Hircine appeared again and asked Ma’zurah what skill she thought a hunter needed the most, strength, speed, or cunning. Which one would you have picked?”

“Strength!” said Tyran.

“Cunning,” said Morva.

“I think cunning too,” said Petra.

“Ma’zurah also picked cunning, and Hircine told Ma’zurah that the last part of the Wild Hunt was to defeat Hircine himself! But he said it would be unfair to fight him at his full power, so Ma’zurah had to fight one third of him; the third she had picked. So Hircine divided himself into three, and the Avatar of Hircine’s Cunning appeared and started to fight Ma’zurah!”

“What did it look like?” asked Petra.

“It looked like Hircine, just a little smaller. A man wearing kilt, with skin like a deer’s coat, and a head like the skull of a stag. He had a spear that he twirled around a lot. Ma’zurah had to be very smart to get out of range of his spear. She ran around the room and threw ice at him until she defeated him. Then she got to keep his spear.” She was hardly doing this story justice, but she did not want to tell the children just how harrowing the fight had been and how close to dying she had come. “Hircine was very shocked that Ma'zurah had won. He promised to come back and host another Wild Hunt, but he only gets to host one Wild Hunt per era.” Ma’zurah paused with a look of alarm on her face and glanced at Fayrl. It was a new era now.

Fayrl dropped the old boots he was holding in hand and met her eyes. That was not news he wanted to hear; not at all.

“Cool!” said Petra.

“Do you have the spear right now?” asked Tyran.

Deciding it was pointless to worry when there was nothing she could do. Ma'zurah shook her head. “No, but Ma’zurah does have the Ring of Azurah if you want to see that. Azurah appeared to Ma’zurah and gave it to her in person.”

“Can I see?” asked Fjotra.

“Yes, it is right here,” said Ma’zurah holding out her hand. She indicated the silver oval ring with a blue stone like the night sky at its center that she wore next to her wedding ring.

“Wow… It is so pretty!” gasped Fjotra. “Can I try it on?”

“Ma’zurah supposes that would be alright, but it likely will not fit. It was made for Ma’zurah. Give Ma’zurah your hand?”

Fjotra held out her hand obediently, and Ma’zurah slipped the ring onto the girl’s thumb. It was still too large, but Fjotra didn’t seem to care.

“It has an enchantment on it,” Ma’zurah told her. “Can you feel it? That is the power of Azurah.”

“Wow…” Fjotra stared at the ring with round eyes.

“I wanna see!” cried Tyran.

“Oh, me too!” said Petra.

“I don’t know. What if there is no ring?” said Morva.

“I wanna see the ring!” insisted Tyran, voice turning whiny.

“It’s too dangerous,” said Morva.

“I wanna!” Tyran cried again, then sniffled.

“Don’t cry, you baby,” said Morva.

“You’re so mean,” sobbed Tyran. “I wanna see it!”

“Fine!” shouted Morva, “Go see your stupid ring! And when you end up captured by the weird white lady and the grey man, don’t come begging for my help!”

Tyran broke into a full cry.

There was a loud screech as something large was dragged across the floor.

The door opened just enough for the small, tearful face of Tyran to appear around the door. “I wanna see it,” he moaned, squirming to get out of the door.

Fjotra stood up and held out her thumb in front of the door, displaying the ring.

“It’s real!” he cried and scrambled forward, tripping over his own feet for a moment, but momentum kept him moving and he caught his balance, grabbing at Fjorta’s hand to look at the ring.

Petra’s head appeared around the edge of the door then popped back in. “They aren’t doing anything yet,” she whispered, still audible enough for Fayrl and Ma’zurah to hear.

“Can I wear it?” asked Tyran, his tears stopped, but a trail of snot coming from one side of his face. He wiped it on his sleeve.

“Yes,” Ma'zurah replied. “Fjotra do you want to help him try it on?”

Fjotra beamed at being given responsibility. “Hold out your hand!” she said, taking the ring off.

Tyran held out his hand, using his other hand to keep it steady. The rest of his body bouncing with excitement. “Like this?”

“Tyran’s getting to try it on,” said Petra. “Morva, can I try it too?”

“If you go out there, I’m not responsible for what happens. I can’t protect you. If you want to turn your back on Dryston and me, go ahead! But he’s like this because of her ! He protected us.”

“They don’t seem so bad,” said Petra.

“Go, then! Get out!”

Petra fell forward out of the door as though she were pushed and the door shut behind her.

Fjotra solemnly helped Tyran try on the ring. “You feel the enchantment?” she asked. “Like you can see everything more clearly, and your tiredness is slowly going away?”

“Woah! I’m like a warrior hero now!” Tyran made slashing and chopping motions with both hands. “Smash! Hack!”

Petra got to her feet and dusted herself off before looking at Ma’zurah, Fjotra, and Fayrl. She didn’t say anything, just watching them while Tyran slashed at the air, lost in his imagination.

Ma’zurah smiled at Petra. Fjotra giggled at Tyran’s antics.

Petra took a tentative step forward, eyeing Ma’zurah.

Fayrl was starting to get anxious. He didn’t know why. Everything was going fine. And yet he couldn’t help but feel nervous. Was something going to happen?

“This ring is amazing!” giggled Tyran. “I bet I could defeat an ice monster right now if one came at me!”

“Would you like to give her a turn?” Ma’zurah gestured at Petra. “I bet she would like to feel like a warrior too.”

Tyran held the ring close to his chest. “But I just got it!”

Petra took a couple more steps away from the door.

Fayrl stood up and Petra backed up against the door. “I’m going to go and check on the horse,” Fayrl said, and headed down the stairs.

Ma’zurah reached into her pack and pulled out a honey nut ball. “Ma’zurah will trade,” she offered Tyran.

He came over at once and extended his hand. “Deal!”

Ma’zurah took the ring and gave the boy the honey nut ball, then she turned to Petra. “You wanted a turn?”

She nodded and cautiously stepped forward, her hand out.

Tyran took his treat and started running around the entrance hall chewing on it and dancing, apparently oblivious to the remains of the bloody ritual in the center of the room. “I got a sweets and no one else can have it!” he taunted in a mocking melody.

Ma’zurah gently took the girl’s hand and slipped the ring on her finger. “Does the world seem brighter? That is the power of Azurah.”

Petra’s eyes widened and she looked around the room as if she did not know where she was. “This is Azra? This power?”

Tyran picked up a rock from the floor. “You think you can have some of my sweets. But you can’t!” he yelled at the rock, then threw it at the wall.

“Azurah made the ring. She put a piece of her power in it to make the enchantment.” Ma’zurah smiled at the girl.

Petra scrutinized the ring. “It just looks like a pretty stone. How did the power get inside?”

Tyran continued to pick up discarded items from the ground and scream at them about how they could not have his honey nut treat.

“Ma’zurah does not know how Princes do it, but when Ma’zurah does enchanting she uses a soul gem. Now. Would you like a honey nut ball too?”

Petra smiled. “I can have one too?”

In his circuit around the room, Tyran finally came across the priest stuck to the wall with spiderwebs. “I bet your want some of my sweets too!” He stood as tall as he could and pulled the gag from Logrolf’s mouth. “Ew, that’s gross! Don’t eat clothes Mr. Sillybeard.”

“Listen here you little shit,” spat the priest, “I am an illustrious priest of the great Queen of Deception, Boethiah! I demand you free me from my bonds at once! Or else I will curse you and every one of your little friends!”

Tyran frowned. “You’re a big poop! I was gonna share, but you’re mean.” He picked up a rock and shoved it in Logrolf’s mouth to replace the tunic.

Logrolf spat the rock out in Tyran’s direction. “I am going to make you pay!”

“Hey! Leave my brother alone!” yelled Petra.

The priest laughed. “If you don’t free me I will make sure that you never see your parents again.”

“No!” shouted Tyran.

The door to the room opened and Morva rushed out, a crude bone dagger in hand. “Leave them alone!” she yelled, facing Ma’zurah.

“Another idiot child of the inbred savages,” Logrolf taunted. “What a delightful sample of the Reach’s quality.”

Morva turned to the priest, realizing that it was not Fayrl or Ma'zurah who had threatened the other children. She had the knife up and her body tensed as if deciding to attack.

Ma’zurah sighed. “It is alright. You are not in any danger. Any of you. Logrolf the Idiot is tied up. He cannot hurt you. He is just very rude.”

Petra started laughing. “That’s why you were sitting on him and hitting his face!”

Morva lowered her weapon. “He is tied up?”

“I am! Now free me child! If you do I will give you a grand reward.”

“What kind of reward?” asked Tyran.

“To become an apprentice to the great Logrolf the Willful and serve the Lord Boethiah in all her needs.”

Petra and Tyran both frowned.

“That’s stupid,” said Morva. “I don’t want to serve some stupid god who makes people like you.” She stepped closer to Ma’zurah.

“It is not stupid! It is a great honor!” cried Logrolf. “You ignorant barbarians could not even comprehend what you are declining!”

Petra picked back up the tunic and hurriedly shoved it in Logrolf’s mouth. Tyran ran up after her and shoved it further in. The man struggled again and screamed behind his gag, though nothing he tried to say was intelligible.

Fjotra tugged on Ma’zurah’s sleeve. “Can I have a honey nut treat too?”

“Alright.” Ma’zurah retrieved one, then held out another to Morva. “Fair is fair.”

“I can see why you have him tied up,” Morva commented, accepting the treat.

Ma’zurah nodded. “He is very disrespectful.” She moved to peek into the room the children had been in. The boy was still asleep on the bed, but the rest of the furniture had been rearranged. She turned and walked down the steps into the entrance hall and looked out the front door. Fayrl was nowhere to be seen.

“Where are you going?” asked Morva as she saw Ma’zurah disappear down the steps.

Ma'zurah leaned out the front door to pat the horse and spotted the bodies lying in the road. She cursed under her breath.

“Trying to find Fayrl,” she explained.

The children sat at the top of the stairs watching and waiting. Tyran licked sugar off his fingers.

Ma'zurah closed the front door and turned around, noticing the door on the right side of the entrance hall slightly ajar. She peered inside.

The bodies of the Forsworn still rested where Ma'zurah had last seen them. The man Fayrl had injured lay sprawled across the floor at the side of the bed in a pool of blood, obviously dead. Fayrl stood in the center of the room redoing his hair.

“Hey,” Ma'zurah said to catch Fayrl’s attention. “Ma'zurah needs Fayrl to clear off the road and then come let Ma'zurah know when he is done.”

Fayrl turned around, tucking the last pin into his hair. “Very well. I will gladly go and take care of that, my dear.”

Ma'zurah nodded and walked back up the steps into the hallway and entered the children's room. The children came running after her.

“You can wake him up, right?” asked Petra, standing nervously next to the unconscious boy.

“Yes, but we have to take him to Karthwasten.” Ma'zurah started opening chests and nightstands until she located a set of packs. “Okay, help Ma'zurah pack your clothing. First one done gets another honey nut ball. Somebody show Ma’zurah where that one’s clothing is.” She gestured at the unconscious boy.

“They’re over here!” cried Tyran, tugging Ma’zurah’s sleeve towards a set of drawers.

“But his spare tunics are in here,” said Petra, pulling on Ma’zurah’s other sleeve.

Fjotra sat on an empty bed, blinking at the other children stuffing their meager belongings into packs. In a few minutes she was fast asleep.

When they finished, Ma'zurah scanned the room for anything else they might want, and tucked a lost rag doll into Petra’s pack. “Are you ready? It is not a long walk. It should only take an hour or two to get to Karthwasten.”

Petra nodded, slipping the pack onto her back.

Tyran put his bag on his head, trying to balance it. “Wooooaaah!” he said as it fell to one side. He caught it and put it back on his head.

Morva stood beside Ma’zurah with a wary expression on her face. “We’re ready. But I don’t understand. Where are our parents? Why won’t Dryston wake up? Why are you two here?”

Ma'zurah lifted her eyebrows at the teenager. “That is a lot of questions, and they all have long answers. Ma'zurah thinks she is getting a bit too hungry to answer so many questions at once. There will be hot meals at Karthwasten. If you ask Ma'zurah again after we have eaten, she promises she will answer them all. It is not too far to go or too long to wait, but it is only midday and Ma'zurah is already tired. Is that fair?” She gave a small smile and cast telekinesis on Dryston, lifting him gently.

Petra and Tyran watched their friend floating with wide-eyed fascination. Tyran waved his hand underneath and, upon finding nothing, walked under Dryston. “Magic!”

Morva tightened her grip on her pack straps at her shoulders. “What if our parents come back and we aren’t here? They’ll be worried.”

Petra looked worried at this prospect. “I… I don’t want mommy to think I’ve run off….”

“It will be alright. They will not worry. If you are still afraid, Ma'zurah will try to use magic to contact them once we get to Karthwasten. Ma'zurah is a Mystic. She knows a few rituals.” Ma'zurah stuck her head out of the children’s room, keeping an eye out for Fayrl.

“But where are they?” Morva insisted. “They put us to bed after we stayed up most of the night waiting for them, and then where did they go? They wouldn't leave us behind.” Tears of frustration and fear welled in her eyes.

Ma’zurah set the boy back down on the bed and knelt in front of Morva. “Ma’zurah does not know. She is sorry. Ma’zurah will try to contact them for you. She does not think she can do it here though. It is not a far trip. It will be alright. Ma’zurah will make sure that no harm comes to you if she can do anything to stop it.”

Morva looked like she was warring with herself. After a moment she sighed. “And you can wake Dryston? You're positive?”

“Yes.” Ma’zurah gave a firm nod.

“Then I will go.” Morva stood and Petra took her hand. “We are ready.”

“Alright, one second. Let Ma’zurah find Fayrl and see if he is ready too.” She walked into the hallway, closing the door behind her, and went to the front door. She spotted Fayrl hiding the last body behind a large juniper bush, and called out to him. “They are ready. Ma’zurah will bring them out.”

Fayrl nodded. “Go ahead. I'm ready.” He walked back to his lute and began playing a pleasant song.

“Alright. When Ma’zurah brings the boy out, make sure he will not wake soon, please.”

She went back inside and roused Fjotra from where she had been dozing. She smiled at the children, cast telekinesis again on Dryston, and led them outside. “Fayrl has his lute out, do you like songs?”

“I like music,” said Petra. “Daddy sings a song about a spotted stag who plays with wolves.”

“His song about the bear is better,” said Tyran, his pack on his head again, though he kept one hand on it so it wouldn't fall.

Petra snorted “You just like it cause the bear eats everything.”

“That's the best part!” said Tyran.

Morva walked in silence, clearly deep in thought.

Fayrl turned to the children with a goofy smile. “Look at this band of adventurers! Why we have four mighty warriors here! I shall be your bard and Ma’zurah your wizard as we hike on our way towards adventure. Let us hurry to the castle so we can wake the sleeping prince. Come, wizard, let us set our prince upon his steed!” Fayrl helped to guide the sleeping boy onto the horse’s back, stroking the horse to keep it from spooking. “Fjotra, I know you are good with horses, why don't you take the reins and I shall play a tune to keep away evil spirits.”

Ma’zurah gave Fayrl an amused smile, and the small group set off down the road to Karthwasten.

End Notes:

Ta'agra Translations: http://www.taagra.com/ wafiit = idiot jekosiit = sheep shagger

Fayrl’s tumblr: @talldarkandroguesome

Screenshot of Fayrl Screenshot of Ma’zurah Check out my art tag for more pictures of Fayrl and Ma’zurah.

Constructive criticism is welcome. We also really like it if you leave comments on Ao3.

#TES #Elder Scrolls Lore #Skyrim #ESO #Morrowind #My Writing #Fanfic #Lost In Time TES Fanfic #Fayrl Indoril #Ma'zurah the Khajiit #Rated T

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nolimitsongrace · 4 years

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August 26: Ministering Spirits

Ministering SpiritsAugust 26, 2020

Are they not all ministering spirits, sent forth to minister for them who shall be heirs of salvation? — Hebrews 1:14

October 3, 1993. It was our wedding anniversary, and Denise and I were in Murmansk, Russia, located just north of the Arctic Circle. We had been ministering there in one of the largest churches in Russia at the time. After several days of wonderful meetings, we concluded the last evening service and returned to the apartment where we were staying. Our plan was to begin preparing for our trip home early the next morning. As we packed, we decided to turn on the television to see the late-night news.

We sat nearly frozen in disbelief as we learned that there had been a major coup in the city of Moscow! The image of the Russian Vice President appeared on the TV screen before us. Looking disheveled, this man morbidly glared into the TV camera and stated that a coup had begun in Moscow and that Russia’s newly gained democracy was about to be lost. We were stunned when we heard him “beckon” people to go into the streets to fight using whatever they could find from their homes as weapons to oppose the pro-Communist faction — especially in the area near Red Square — that was trying to seize control.

*[If you started reading this from your email, begin reading here.]

While we had been busy ministering in Murmansk, a major conflict had erupted in Moscow. There was a clash between then President Boris Yeltsin and a pro-Communist political faction that had violently seized control of the Russian White House and had barricaded themselves inside it, refusing to come out.

The Russian White House is situated in front of the massive Novoarbatsky Bridge along the banks of the Moscow River. I found it so interesting that the entire day while we had been busy with church activities in another city, Boris Yeltsin had been busy ordering army tanks to line up on that bridge, point their cannons directly at the Russian White House, and shoot to drive those occupants out of the building! By the end of the day, those tanks had blown the top half of the structure nearly completely off. Although democratic forces shelled the White House with one bomb after another, the rebels refused to surrender their position.

It was late at night, and Denise and I sat in front of the TV dumbfounded and perplexed about what we should do. The mayhem in Moscow was spreading to other locations, and we didn’t know what Moscow airports would be like the following morning. Moscow was our only connection to Riga, Latvia, where we lived at the time. We didn’t know if flights would be canceled — or even if there would be potential attacks at the airport. And God only knew what might develop in the nighttime as we slept!

We arose early the following morning, took a car to the airport, and went inside to see if we could make our flight to Moscow en route to Riga. When the time came for passengers to board the plane, Denise and I were the only two passengers they allowed to embark. Everyone else with tickets for that flight was denied access to the plane!

The airline attendants seated us in First Class on the very front row of the plane. Denise and I were somewhat amused and discussed quietly that it looked like we had the whole plane to ourselves. That’s exactly what we thought as that large Russian aircraft took off from that runway and began to ascend — that we were the only two passengers aboard the flight.

To this day, we still don’t know why we were the only two passengers allowed to board that flight, but that is exactly what happened. We speculated that perhaps the person in charge knew us from our nationwide television program — or that we had received special treatment because of our American passports. All we could do was guess. But for the duration of that flight from Murmansk to Moscow, Denise and I sat alone on what looked to be an empty aircraft, musing over our strange situation.

That entire, very large commercial airliner was completely empty — except for us and the flight crew! At least that’s what we thought until it was time to disembark. When we arose from our seats to leave, the flight attendant abruptly pulled back the curtain that concealed the whole back half of the airplane. To our utter amazement and shock, there stood in front of us 85 Black Berets, Russia’s highest-trained land-combat soldiers!

What a scene that was! It looked like 85 “Rambos” standing there, with machine guns hanging off their shoulders, handguns strapped to their waists, strips of hundreds of rounds of ammo draped around their necks, giant knives fastened to their boots — and their faces completely smeared with greasy black “war paint”!

Denise and I stood there, nearly paralyzed, for what seemed like minutes. As much speculating as we had entertained about why we were alone on that flight, the thought never crossed our minds that we were not alone — and that we had flown all that distance to Moscow with 85 trained killers!

Sitting in the car that transported us from the plane to our terminal, we watched spellbound as those soldiers quickly disembarked that plane in unison and boarded jumbo helicopters that we later learned were assigned to fly them to the Russian White House. By the time we entered the terminal and made our way through passport control, we saw on TV monitors those same 85 soldiers being lowered by ropes onto what was left of the roof of the White House!

We later discovered that those killer troops were ordered to retake the Russian White House, arresting rebels who surrendered and shooting those who didn’t. By the end of that standoff, 124 rebel soldiers had been killed and 348 had been wounded by those Black Beret soldiers — soldiers with whom Denise and I had unknowingly flown on a plane!

At times in life, we’ve likely all been oblivious to what’s happening around us. Had Denise and I known we were flying with 85 trained killers that day, we would have experienced some apprehension about getting on that flight. But we thought we were the only two people on board. We actually enjoyed the experience, laughing and talking during the entire flight to Moscow. We only realized 85 “Rambos” were riding with us when it was time to disembark. By that time, it was too late to worry because we had already arrived safely at the airport in Moscow!

As Denise and I watched the monitors from inside the airport terminal and saw those soldiers being lowered into the remains of the White House, we hardly spoke a word. We were stunned that we had been that close to those armed and trained killers and yet completely unaware of it. As we awaited our next flight, we each sat quietly, pondering the events that had just taken place. It wasn’t until we were securely on board our flight to Riga that we finally began to talk again. Excitedly, we began talking about the situations we all find ourselves in at times, that we don’t fully comprehend until later. And we particularly talked about the ministry of angels — that just as those Russian killer soldiers had been dispatched to restore order and peace, God sends His angels on “covert missions” to oversee and protect us in times of danger and uncertainty.

Hebrews 1:14 says, “Are they not all [angels] ministering spirits, sent forth to minister for them who shall be heirs of salvation?” You and I are the heirs of salvation, so this means that angels are sent forth to minister to you and me. But what exactly does the phrase “sent forth to minister for them” mean?

Notice the verse includes the word “minister” in some form twice. It says, “Are they not all ministering spirits, sent forth to minister for them who shall be heirs of salvation?” In both cases, the words “ministering” and “minister” are a translation of the Greek word diakonos, which depicts high-level, top-notch service of various kinds. As we look at the ministry of angels in the New Testament, we find that angels provided especially high-level, top-notch service to the saints when they experienced various types of need.

The following is a condensed list of activities that angels perform. Please keep in mind that this Sparkling Gem is about God’s care over us when we are oblivious to things that are happening around us. In such moments, angels step in to provide certain kinds of high-level, top-notch service for us — including the list of angelic assignments that follow in this teaching. Of course, angels also have other roles, but for the purposes of this discussion, we will focus on the role of angels to minister to believers — heirs of salvation.

Angels Meet Physical Needs

Matthew 4:11 and Mark 1:13 tell us that when Jesus concluded His 40-day fast in the wilderness, angels appeared to Him and ministered to Him, thereby meeting Jesus’ physical needs after that 40 days of fasting and being tempted by the devil. In both of these verses, the word “ministered” is a translation of the Greek word diakonos. Wherever this word is used in the New Testament, it pictures a servant whose chief occupation is to meet some kind of physical or tangible need.

Angels Give Strength

The Bible provides many examples of angels strengthening the weary, but the best New Testament example is found in Luke 22:43, where an angel strengthened Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane during the most difficult time of His earthly life. It says, “And there appeared an angel unto him from heaven, strengthening him.” This word comes from the Greek word enischuo, a compound of the words en and ischuos. The word en means in, and the word ischuos is the Greek word for might or strength. When these two words are compounded, the new word means to impart strength; to empower someone; to fill a person with physical vigor; or to give someone renewed vitality. In other words, a person may have been feeling exhausted and depleted, but suddenly he receives a robust blast of energy that instantly recharges him.

This means that when Jesus’ disciples and friends couldn’t be depended on in His hour of need, God provided an angel who empowered, recharged, and imparted strength to Jesus, thus renewing His vitality so He could victoriously face the most difficult hour of His life. Thus, Luke 22:43 provides a vivid New Testament example of how angels strengthen the weary.

Angels Can Give Supernatural Guidance

Examples of how angels provide supernatural guidance are abundant in the New Testament. Matthew 2:13 says an angel appeared to Joseph in a dream and told him to quickly take Mary and the young Christ Child into Egypt because Herod would seek to kill Jesus. Later when Herod died, an angel appeared in a dream to Joseph in Egypt, informing him that Herod was dead and that he and his family could return to Israel (Matthew 2:19-23). In both of those instances, the supernatural angelic guidance occurred in dreams.

In Act 10:3, we find an example of angelic guidance that also changed the course of history. An angel appeared in a vision to an Italian centurion named Cornelius who lived in Caesarea.

Although Cornelius was unsaved at that moment, God heard this man’s prayers and intervened on his behalf by providing angelic guidance. The angel who appeared to Cornelius instructed him to send his servants to Joppa to summon Peter and his companions to come to him. When Peter arrived at Cornelius’ residence, the apostle preached the Gospel to those who were present. All who heard Peter repented and were filled with the Holy Spirit. At that historic moment, the door to salvation was opened to the Gentiles, and the Gospel message began to go forth into the Gentile world.

Angels Provide Protection and Deliverance

The Old and New Testaments are filled with evidence that God assigns angels to guard and protect His people. For instance, Psalm 34:7 says that angels encamp around those who fear the Lord to deliver them. Psalm 91:11 promises that God will give His angels charge over His people to keep them in all their ways. We see a New Testament example of how angels guard and protect God’s people in Acts 5:17-20. In this account, the high priest rose up against the apostles and had them arrested and thrown into prison. Verses 19 and 20 say, “But the angel of the Lord by night opened the prison doors, and brought them forth, and said, Go, stand and speak in the temple to the people all the words of this life.”

A few chapters later in Acts 12, we find the story of Peter being arrested and thrown into prison. After Herod ordered the beheading of James (see Acts 12:1,2), he saw that many Jews approved of his action. Therefore, in order to garner more support and popularity with the angry mob of Christian-haters, Herod gave the order for the apostle Peter to be arrested next. The authorities may have recalled the previous time when a group of apostles miraculously escaped from prison because this time Peter was delivered to “four quaternions of soldiers” (Acts 12:4).

A “quaternion” refers to a group of four Roman soldiers. So four quaternions — or four different groups containing four soldiers each — successively took turns guarding Peter throughout the night. Verse 6 tells us that Peter was sleeping between two guards in that prison while two other guards stood watch at the prison door. Suddenly the angel of the Lord came into the prison cell and awoke Peter from his sleep, telling him to rise up quickly and leave the prison. Instantly, the chains that held Peter were loosened and fell to the ground.

Not only did the angel of the Lord set Peter free from the chains that held him, but it seems the angel also temporarily blinded the guards so they were unaware of what was happening. Peter followed the angel through the first and second ward until he came to an iron gate, which supernaturally opened in front of him without anyone touching it. An angel delivered the apostle from the horrible destiny that had awaited him at the hands of Herod.

Angels Perform Superhuman Feats

Perhaps the best New Testament example of angels performing superhuman feats is when the angels rolled away the massive stone that lay before Jesus’ garden tomb. Matthew 28:2 says, “…the angel of the Lord descended from heaven, and came and rolled back the stone from the door, and sat upon it.” The word “stone” is the Greek word lithos, which simply means a stone. It is known, however, that the stones placed in front of such tombs were immense in their dimensions — impossible for a human being to move without the assistance of several people.

Another remarkable example of an angel’s superhuman strength is recorded in Revelation 20:1-3, where John writes: “And I saw an angel come down from heaven, having the key of the bottomless pit and a great chain in his hand. And he laid hold on the dragon, that old serpent, which is the Devil, and Satan, and bound him a thousand years, and cast him into the bottomless pit, and shut him up, And set a seal upon him, that he should deceive the nations no more, till the thousand years should be fulfilled: and after that he must be loosed a little season.”

At the appointed time, an unnamed angel will seize Satan, bind him with a great chain, shut him in the bottomless pit, and seal it so he can’t escape. No natural human being would ever be able to perform such a feat, but this passage of Scripture clearly states that a day is coming when an angel will single-handedly accomplish this task — scriptural proof of the great power heavenly angels possess.

And to think — such “ministering spirits” are dispatched to “minister” to those who will inherit salvation. That’s you and me! God has specifically sent angels forth to meet our physical needs, to give us strength, to supernaturally guide us at times, to provide us with protection and deliverance, and to perform superhuman feats on our behalf.

Flying from Murmansk to Moscow with 85 hidden trained killers — while Denise and I were completely oblivious to that fact — reminds me that wherever we are and whatever we’re doing, we have a group of “ministering spirits” that are assigned to watch over us and care for us. In fact, looking back on that incident, I realize that a “special-forces unit” of angels is always assigned to Denise and me! And these trained spiritual combatants pose a far more formidable threat to unseen devilish forces than the threat those 85 trained soldiers posed to rebels occupying the Russian White House that day!

If you look back over your own life, I’m sure it won’t be difficult to recall moments when you experienced angelic assistance to help you overcome in the midst of what you were enduring. You may not have seen those ministering spirits with your physical eyes or even felt their presence, but it is certain they were there, for that is God’s promise to you and to me in Hebrews 1:14!

MY PRAYER FOR TODAY

Father, I want to thank You for the many times You have given Your angels charge of me to protect, provide for, and guide me when I was confronted with difficulties or was completely unaware of the situations I had unknowingly wandered into or of the danger that surrounded me. I am reminded of how Your ministering spirits have met my needs; brought me help; strengthened me when I was exhausted both physically and emotionally; and kept me safe in the midst of circumstances that could have produced certain harm or even taken my life. Time after time, You’ve held me safe through the watchful care of Your ministering angels. Lord, I love You. You have shown me great mercy, and each day I find new reasons to praise and glorify You as a faithful Keeper of covenant in my life.

I pray this in Jesus’ name!

MY CONFESSION FOR TODAY

I confess that time after time, in ways I seldom realize, God dispatches angels to assist me. These ministering spirits surround me and keep me safe, and they never fail to step in to deliver me even when I don’t know that I am in harm’s way. Whatever my situation, and regardless of the need, angels are assigned to protect, provide, strengthen, and guide me in all my ways of obedience to the Lord.

I declare this by faith in Jesus’ name!

QUESTIONS FOR YOU TO CONSIDER

Have you ever been in a situation in which you were oblivious to what was happening around you, but you later discovered that God had dispatched an angel or angels to protect you in some way?

Can you recall a specific experience of God’s miraculous, delivering power in your life? When was it, and what happened? How did you respond?

When you consider that experience, what does it reveal to you about the tenderness of God to watch over you and protect you? Have you ever told anyone about that moment of divine protection?

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forkanna · 7 years

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NOTE: NSFW moment at the beginning here, and a lot of NSFW discussion afterward.

As you probably guessed, my morning involved being jabbed in the hip. It did take a lot of willpower not to do anything about it. Like… it's not so much that I like dick, to be honest. More that I enjoy getting one off, seeing the other person squirm. Usually it's a guy, and I derive a dark satisfaction from being in control. But with Knives… it's different. With her, I want to make her happy. Flood her with all those fun endorphins that I avoid like the plague. So there were two different reasons that the little bump throbbing into me through my shorts and her pyjamas had me biting my lip and trying to think about baseball.

When her hips started moving, I wondered if I would have to poke her and wake her up. She was basically asleep and dry-humping me in her dreams. In the end, I made a compromise and I cupped her butt and let her go to town; didn't encourage further, didn't go further. Just let it happen up against my hip until she woke up on her own.

"Hmmhh?" she muttered when her eyes finally fluttered open.

"Was wondering if you'd wake up before or after you splooge."

"Ohh…" Then she flashed me a sleepy, embarrassed grin as she squeezed her eyes shut. "What am I doing?"

"Humping my leg." I started to tell her to keep going, then decided it might not be the best phrasing; it wasn't supposed to be a command. How could I make this clear? Lucky for me, I'd been awake another five or so minutes before she was or my brain never would have come up with anything. "Not that I mind." There, that ought to do it.

"You don't?" Licking her lips, she began to grind more, breath coming a little faster. After a minute of this, she then said, "Wait… are you sure?"

"Yeah, Knives. If you want to… I wish you would go ahead." Maybe that much encouragement was too enthusiastic. I wanted to tell her she could do even more than that, but after being so pushy before, I was gunshy. This was good for now.

And she seemed to agree, if the way she kept at it was any indicator. Just like that first drunken night, I felt her get harder as she put in more effort, then everywhere was getting warmer. She was pretty close to… there. My face nuzzled her neck, left little kisses of encouragement.

"You sure this isn't weird?" she asked after a while, putting in the full amount of force now.

"Not any weirder than life in general. Seriously… enjoy yourself. Whatever."

For some reason, we didn't kiss. Not during. Kissed necks and the sides of heads, but we didn't look at each other and didn't let our lips lock together. Watching her was kind of a dream come true: I had been wanting it ever since I got smacked in the forehead. Another chance to see her come into full bloom like that, without the moral dilemmas.

Her voice became more broken, turned into more moans than breaths or words. Definitely wanted it in me, but could settle for this. For now. As long as Knives was doing what made her happy and satisfied.

She blew, and I didn't even have to ask to make sure. I kept up my kissing, kneaded her ass with my one hand while she thrust a few more times, spasming her way through strangled cries. Like the last time, I could feel warmth pooling where she had deposited the proof of what we did, and it felt both a little gross and really interesting. I dunno. Then she flopped down, completely spent for the moment.

"Mmm," I purred with a smile as I kissed her forehead. "Pretty hot. How was it?"

"Wow," she breathed.

"Really?" A little nod. "Huh. Didn't figure that would really do much for you."

Her hand petted up and down my stomach. "It did. Like, it was pretty hard to finish that way, just grinding against you, but, um… it was… you being here makes it better. You really thought it was hot?"

"Dude, I'm soaking wet right now. So yes."

The redness in her cheeks was the darkest I've ever seen it. "You are? O-oh, I'm sorry…"

"Don't be sorry. Like you said about popping a hard-on; just means I enjoyed the show."

For a few seconds, I thought that was going to be the end of this encounter. She did her humping thing, got off, and I had the satisfaction of knowing I'd done it right this time. All in all, a great start to our morning. But then I noticed her hand caressing my thighs.

"Hey. What's up?"

"Just wanted to… y'know. If you wanted. No pressure, of course! Since I haven't ever tried that on a girl. Or I could watch you do it, or you could… on m-my leg…"

A little fear was in with her usual bubbliness. The suggestion had been a little off-hand, but I had a gut feeling that I should pick that one over the other two. "Let me handle this. Take notes." When she started to sit up to go get something, I added, "Mental notes, ugh. You really think I want you running to find a notepad right about now?!"

"Oh…" Blanching, she laid back down and kissed my cheek. "I'll stay by your side."

With an offer like that, I felt both a lot more excited to jill off than I had in a while, and a little intimidated. This was literally the first time I'd ever done that to myself with someone else watching; a couple of my dates had tried to finger me with varying degrees of success. If I didn't threaten to cut their hands off for jumping in too soon. My hand began to snake down past my waistband as my eyes flicked back and forth between that and Knives's face.

"You're sure?"

"Yeah. I'm pretty curious. As long as you don't mind?"

I did, a little. Made me feel like I was doing it on stage in front of a crowd, which I was only used to when I was being a badass with my trap set. But Knives looked so eager…

That was not only one of the hardest orgasms of my life, but probably the fastest since I was in junior high. The whole situation, her being next to me, recently-spent cock pushed into my hip through our clothes, had me so ready to come that it only took me a couple of minutes. My girlfriend-ish person was so invested that I don't think she blinked at all the entire time; just kept her eyes glued to my body, mostly watching my hand and looking up at my face to watch my reactions now and then. Left little kisses on my shoulder. I did it no-frills, just flicked the bean until I saw stars, but she was mesmerised and I was beyond satisfied.

"Whoa," she finally breathed when I flopped down to recover.

At first, all I could bring myself to do was gasp for breath and whisper, "Yeah?" Then I turned to smile at her, swallowing to re-coat my dry throat. "I probably… looked ridiculous."

"No way! Not like I did, rubbing on you like a dog!"

"H-hey, I don't normally find it hot when dogs do that." Then I cringed, being forced to think about dog dicks for a half-second.

But Knives didn't seem to care about that. She just snuggled in closer, kissing my lips very briefly. She did let out a little squeak of surprise when I rolled onto her, taking her lips hard, needily, initiating a kiss that lasted for a good few minutes without any break.

"So," she finally asked when we broke apart, eyes dazed and cheeks flushed, "if I came, and you came… does that mean we did it? Kinda?"

"Kinda," I admitted. For us, as awkward first-time lesbians who both had a few issues, it counted. Then I made an observation: "You're poking me again."

"Yeah. But um…" A little shrug.

"What?"

"I can't go again. I've tried, it never…" She trailed off.

"Twice in a row is asking too much?" A little nod. "Gotcha. So this is like, when you want more pizza but your stomach is already way too full?"

"Hey… yeah! That's it exactly! Kim, you're so smart!" She gave me two kisses to both of my cheeks, which had me rolling my eyes and trying not to smile so wide.

"Nerd."

"Nerd for you." Her hands pet up and down my back. "Sorry if I'm being too shippy."

My brow wrinkled. "Shippy?"

"Relation-shippy. You know… like, saying girlfriend things when you're not sure about… this whole situation. I just like you a whole lot."

"Clingy shippy nerd." But the tone must not have been too off-putting, because a second later she let me kiss her again. Then I settled in against her body. "Mmm… still crazy. You and me. Out of everybody, y'know? I thought you'd end up with Scott, or Neil. Or even Stephen before he came out. I was pretty low on the list."

"Not on my list. I just didn't… well, y'know… the gender thing."

She lost me. "Huh?"

"Well, because I'm trans, I kind of… expected to need to date men? And I did, and they're okay sometimes, but that night with you really opened my eyes to like, the possibilities. That I could be a lesbian — or bisexual, of course. 'Cuz there's always that whole, 'why don't you just stay a guy if you're going to date women?' thing."

"But you said you weren't a guy. Like, that you are definitely a girl."

Patiently, she went on, "Right. I get that, but other people don't. They think I can just 'switch back' if I'm going to date girls. Like, just because I have a dick doesn't mean that dating guys makes me a gay guy, either, so why would I be a straight guy for dating girls? It's kinda dumb. But… I still kinda bought into it, so I never, like… gave dating women any serious thought before you jerked me off."

My entire body winced, and I know she felt it. "Man, I wish you wouldn't say it like that."

"Like what? You did!"

"I know! Gah, I don't remember it though! Like, I remember watching it happen thanks to your glove, but I was definitely not in my right mind when I did it, I just… reacted. Because…"

Because why? That was kind of a mystery. Maybe my feelings about Knives were already there, buried deep, or maybe I just liked the feeling of her dick so much and my curiosity was so high that I reacted on instinct. But now wasn't the time to contemplate that any deeper.

Mostly because Knives's phone started going off right then. She rolled over to grab it, and I immediately hated the loss of warmth, even in the summer.

"Shit, it's my second alarm; I'm gonna be late if I don't go shower and change. Um… sorry."

"It's cool. Can I watch?"

"Shut up," she giggled, and I shrugged with a shy smile. "But um… that was really fun. We'll have to try it again sometime. Or maybe more?"

"Maybe." I forced myself to say that instead of "definitely", or "please split me open and slam into me." All it had taken was a little more proof that our physical chemistry was damn good to know I really wanted to bang her. Or her to bang me, or whatever.

That did put a thought in my head. One that bumped around and mutated for a little while as I started coffee, changed shorts — and underwear, because snail slime is not fun to carry around all day — and waited for her to get out of the shower. When she bounced out in her uniform, the question came out too randomly and without previous context.

"Should I buy a strap-on?"

"Huh?" she asked, still pouring coffee. Then her brain fully caught up to the meaning, and she gaped at me, stunned into silence.

"Knives… Knives, the coffee…"

Blinking, she stared down at how her cup was running over onto the counter. "OH NO! Oh God, crap, oh no!"

Together, we got that cleaned up without too much fuss, wringing out paper towels into the sink to use again. Once it was mostly done, I mumbled, "Sorry for that. I, uh… could have used a little more tact."

"It's okay," she laughed, still a little nervous and self-conscious. "I just… y-yeah, wow. Hadn't even thought of that."

"Me either, until this morning. Because… I don't know, something about the way you keep saying you weren't sure about normal 'boy-and-girl' sex. And like, that's obviously you banging me, but I was thinking about how, uh, normal lesbians can take turns with that if they have a strap-on. At first, I was like 'shame I can't do that for Knives.' And then I realised that I could, even if it's… not exactly the same. But I didn't know if you would even be into that."

Both of us were a little stunned at how much I over-explained, and I shut my lips tight as I spritzed cleaner onto the counter to get the last of the coffee. Eventually, Knives said, "Yeah… that's a whole other thing, huh? Butt stuff."

"Right. Not something I care about normally. But… if you do-"

"Actually, I don't know. Like, I think I told you I tried fingering myself before but barely did anything. So I really have no idea if I'd like… y'know… going the whole way, a dildo in there, or whatever."

"You did? Wait… yeah, you did." Now I remembered: at the time, I thought she had been talking about fingering a vagina, of course. Having no clue she didn't own one of those. Then my eyes widened when I realised what she did mean, and painted a very vague mental picture. "OH."

"What?"

"Well. I mean… how was it?"

A tiny shrug as she sipped at her coffee. Funny how she could drink some of my crappy brew and then go work somewhere they made actual good coffee; maybe she was just being polite, or maybe she wanted to make me feel better. Whatever. "Weird? I guess I didn't hate it, but like I said, didn't get going enough to know for sure."

That brief image of Knives worming a finger into herself was hotter than I had anticipated. Like, I really mean it when I say I had zero interest in anal. Still didn't, on me or on anyone else. But for some reason, with Knives being a girl who didn't have anywhere else to finger, it had a whole new meaning. That vision dancing in my head, my sweet ninja on her back and moaning while she did that to herself, practically had me needing to go another round of bean-flicking.

"Yeah… I… yeah." Clearing my throat, I finished wiping down the counter and rinsed out the cloth. "U-um, add that to the list of… things I would try with you… if you ever…" I didn't even bother to finish the sentence. I couldn't.

"You'd finger my butt?!" Knives seemed not so much touched or turned on by the idea as just flat-out shocked. "Wow, I didn't- w-well, I mean, I'll remember! Don't worry! But you'd really want to? I mean, it's… y'know…" Her voice dropped to a whisper. "A butt."

"I'll wear a glove," I reassured her. Reassured both of us, really. "Means I have to cut my nails. Normally do, though, but…"

A little nervous laugh escaped her. "H-hey, don't… worry, I'm not ready for it yet! No rush!" She bit her lip, smiling. "Wow…"

Smirking with dark glee, I slipped an arm around her waist. "Imagine me doing that for you while I go down on you. Just really wanting to make you feel good all over."

Watching her face turn into a beet was totally worth the way she shoved me away a few seconds later, pushing both hands into the beet-face and turning away. "AAH! Shut up, I have to go to work!"

"Wonder if I could fit two in there?" But she was already running for the bathroom, squealing the whole way.

To Be Continued…

#kim pine's precious little knives #scott pilgrim fanfiction #forkanna writes #kim pine #knives chau #scott pilgrim vs. the world #forkanna the writer #nsfw-text

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nolimitsongrace · 5 years

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August 26: Ministering Spirits

Ministering SpiritsAugust 26, 2019

Are they not all ministering spirits, sent forth to minister for them who shall be heirs of salvation? — Hebrews 1:14

*[If you started reading this from your email, begin reading here.]

Angels Meet Physical Needs

Angels Give Strength

Angels Can Give Supernatural Guidance

In Act 10:3, we find an example of angelic guidance that also changed the course of history. An angel appeared in a vision to an Italian centurion named Cornelius who lived in Caesarea.

Angels Provide Protection and Deliverance

Angels Perform Superhuman Feats

MY PRAYER FOR TODAY

I pray this in Jesus’ name!

MY CONFESSION FOR TODAY

I declare this by faith in Jesus’ name!

QUESTIONS FOR YOU TO CONSIDER

Have you ever been in a situation in which you were oblivious to what was happening around you, but you later discovered that God had dispatched an angel or angels to protect you in some way?

Can you recall a specific experience of God’s miraculous, delivering power in your life? When was it, and what happened? How did you respond?

When you consider that experience, what does it reveal to you about the tenderness of God to watch over you and protect you? Have you ever told anyone about that moment of divine protection?

0 notes