Chapter 364: Runes
Michael wasn't all that bothered by the Civil War, to be honest, he had other things to keep focused on. Speaking of which...
Michael laid on the floor of the room that was hidden in the Middens underneath the College of Winterhold. A large ritual circle had been inscribed into the ground with a mixture of chalk and Tiffania's blood.
Michael was completely naked of course, neither he nor Tiffania wanted to risk anything going wrong, which meant removing any potential problems before they became such.
This was a project Tiffania had been working on even before she'd summoned Megumin... Familiar Runes, the things that granted seemingly random powers depending on what was written. After much trial and effort, a few exploded Skeevers, and even more that'd died not long after acquiring strange abilities, she'd finally become able to create Void Runes.
Of course, this did have some problems, the first being that she couldn't choose what runes would be granted. Meaning that the abilities that would be gained could vary wildly. Another interesting fact was that Tiffania could not grant Runes that were designed by Brimir.
Examples of this were Michael's Gandalfr, Megumin's Lifdrasir, and even Sheffield's Miodaitnir.
Additionally, Tiffania's runes were far less refined than the ones Brimir had created. They were far, far longer and all in all less powerful overall. This could be attributed to her inexperience with the art, but there could also be other factors at play.
Regardless, today Michael would be getting his second set of Runes.
The start of the ritual requires Tiffania to essentially recreate the Familiar Summoning Ritual. This had been altered, of course, as if she attempted the regular version, Megumin might be harmed, removed, and replaced by someone else. Her runes would be moved, and since the Lifdrasir runes were connected to her life force, it could potentially be deadly.
The ritual was pretty complicated, and Michael suspected that most of it would need to be fine-tuned in future since bits seemed to serve no purpose whatsoever.
After an hour, the ritual circle lights up, bathing the room in blinding white. Then, the sensation of burning overtakes Michael's body. Causing far, far more pain than when he'd acquired Gandalfr.
Fortunately, he'd grown up since then, and his [Pain Resistance] skill stops him from having to experience the brunt of it.
A minute later, the light subsides, revealing the long line of runes burned into Michael's chest, just below his collarbone. They weren't really legible, with even Tiffania struggling to translate them... Luckily, the Book of Legends allowed them to see exactly what they were.
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Name : Michael Tahlin
Rank : Legend
Stats :
Strength : 45 > 65
Agility : 78.2 > 121.4
Intelligence : 52 > 71
Birthsign : The Mage
Familiar : Darth, Dark Monolith Parasite
Abilities :
[The Mage] : Enables user to learn all magic-based skills 20% faster.
[Gandalfr] : Enables user to utilise any weapon at two ranks above their current proficiency while granting them the knowledge necessary to use them. While wielding a weapon, temporarily gain +100% in all stats.
[Vanntalfdir] : Enables user to walk on liquids as if they were solid surfaces, can be activated at will but continuously drains mana to function.
[Language Comprehension] : Enables user to understand all spoken tongues, and increase the rate of which they learn reading and writing.
[Novice Mana Manipulation] > [Adept Mana Manipulation] : Allows user more control over his magic, spells, and some abilities. Mana efficiency and control of power is increased.
[Pain Tolerence] : Allows user to endure great amounts of pain with little to no negative effects as a result.
[Apprentice basic Swordsmanship(Two handed swords/One handed swords)] : Determines how skilful the user is when handling swords.
[Apprentice basic Dagger techniques(Single edge, curved, straight, double edge.)] > [Adept basic Dagger techniques(Single edge, curved, straight, double edge.)] : Determines how skilful the user is when handling daggers.
[Desensitized] : Things of a violent or shocking nature fail to draw a reaction like they used to. Emotions are dulled somewhat and user is more easily able to think and rationalize in high stress situations.
Affinities :
[Lesser Water Affinity], [Fire Affinity], [Lesser Lightning Afffinity] > [Lesser Space Affinity], [Lesser Darkness Affinity], [Ice Affinity]
Spirits :
Commoner Tier :
Shadow Shaman : Lvl MAX
Slark : Lvl MAX
Riki : Lvl MAX
Hero Tier :
Anti-Mage : Lvl MAX
Lina : Lvl MAX
Winter Wyvern : Lvl MAX
Legend Tier :
Rubick : Lvl 5 > 17
Magic :
Tamrielic
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Huh, water walking? Not bad, but not all that useful either.
He allows the Book of Legends to dematerialise and groans as he gets to his feet, he cracks his back and almost stumbles over his own feet as Tiffania runs over to support him with her body.
"Are you alright!? Can you stand!? Is anything hurting!?" she babbles, looking terrified that something might've gone wrong.
He shakes his head, "I mean, everything hurts, but that;'s how I felt when I got Gandalfr... I doubt this is any different. Ugh... The Runes are called Vanntalfdir, they should let me walk on water... Which is probably why my legs are so sore." he mutters.
Tiffania bites her lip and waves her hand, Telekinetically dragging a chair over for Michael to sit in. "Are you... Not happy?"
"Of course I'm happy! It worked!... And I got a cool tattoo outta it." he chuckles, looking down at the runes on his chest. He didn't care either way to be honest, but if it made Tiffania feel better, the runes were perfect.
She smiles and hugs him, "I'm glad... I was really worried about this... I only tested it on one other person..."
Michael crooks a brow, "You mean the guy that exploded?" he asks, remembering the time he was called by the Arch-Mage to investigate an explosion that'd occurred in the Midden...
She nods, "Yes, but that only failed because he wasn't a Familiar... Only Void Familiars can have Runes. I checked over a hundred times to make sure it would work!"
He slowly nods, "Well, I'm still alive so, good job..." he pauses, "Any idea if I could get another?... You know, without exploding?"
Tiffania shakes her head, "No... I'll need to work on it more, the pain you felt was worse than before, right?" she asks and he nods, "It will continue getting worse with every Rune until your body can't stand it. Let me test it more before we give you more, okay?"
"You're the boss, 'Master'." he grins, as she was technically his master now that she'd given him some Runes.
She playfully slaps his arm, "Mou! I told you before! Don't call me that!"
He shrugs, "Hey, I just wanted to know if leather and ball gags were your thing... Being a Dom seems like something a 'Master' would be into-"
*Slap!*
"Alright, alright! I'll stop." he chuckles as she bombards him with slaps.
CREATORS' THOUGHTS 
Niggross
Niggross Hope you bois liked the chap, if I missed anything please let me know. Thanks!
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Chapter 365: You're not Listening!
"How have I found myself here...?" Eleril mutters to herself as she desperately tries to ignore the foul stench of death and decay filling her senses. "Oh, that's right... Astrid's orders..."
She opens her eyes again and tries to not squirm or shuffle at the sight of the rotten corpse right in front of her face. Why Astrid thought it was a good idea for her to hide in the Night Mother's she didn't know, even if it was technically working...
She was sure what she was doing could be considered sacrilege, worthy of execution for her defilement of the Night Mother's corpse... But, when your superior orders you to do something, you do it. No ifs or buts about it... Even if she had massive qualms with this...
Eleril quietens down as she hears footsteps, along with the whispered ruminations of Cicero's manic-sounding voice...
"A-are we alone? Yes... Yes... Alone, sweet solitude. No one will hear us. Disturb us... Everything is going according to plan!" the crazed jester says to the coffin, completely unaware that an intruder was listening... In more ways than one would expect.
The jester continues, "The others... Some are willing to hear me, while some... Some are not worthy to be family... Not worthy to even be step-siblings! It's not right! Not right not right not right!... A-and then there's you... Sweet Night Mother...
...
If you just spoke to someone, anyone! Cicero wouldn't have to do this... Do everything alone... What else can this loyal one, THIS SERVILE ONE, do? Cicero cleans, sneaks, protects, hunts, stalks, talks, stalks... Why MUST you do nothing, sweet Mother? Is there no one worthy? Is CICERO, not worthy!?"
The jester takes a breath from his rant, "Sometimes Cicero thinks that you..." his speech hitches, "No! Nonononononono! Cicero must not think that! Never ever ever ever!"
Eleril frowns as she listens to all of this, wondering if Cicero truly was as crazy as he sounds. Clearly, he wasn't a traitor like Astrid had made him out to be, but... Was talking to a corpse any better? At best it was a strange quirk, but at worst? He was a liability. A flight risk.
"Poor Cicero, Dear Cicero. Such a humble servant, but he will never hear my voice. For he is not the Listener." a dark, almost ominous feminine voice states as the Night Mother's corpse before Eleril glows a dim red...
Yeah, Eleril was about to freak out... The corpse just spoke to her! What the fuck!? Did she catch whatever Cicero had? Maybe he'd caught it from the corpse in front of her? "No... I'm just imagining things." she whispers to herself, squeezing her eyes closed to try and attempt to calm her erratic breathing and beating heart.
"Oh, but how can I protect you? If you will not speak, how will Cicero defend you!? How will you exert your will without a Listener!?"
Eleril opens her eyes once more, again seeing the dim glow surrounding the corpse. Strangely though, she got an incredibly smug expression from it, despite its lifeless rotten features.
"Oh, I will speak... Speak to you. For you are the one. My Listener."
"No... I'm hearing things... That's all."
"Yes, you are hearing things. You who shares my iron tomb, you who warms my ancient bones... I give you this task, my Listener... Journey to Volunruud and seek one known as Amaund Montierre... Tell Cicero the time has come. Tell him the words he has been waiting for all these years... Darkness rises when silence dies."
Eeril shakes her head, "N-no... Why? Why me? Choose someone else!" she says, her voice strained from her roiling emotions...
"V-voice? Night Mother?" Cicero asks after having apparently heard Eleril's protestation.
*Creeea*
Cicero throws the coffin doors open with a wide grin on his face, excited to finally hear his Mother's voice... "Night Mother! I-... W-what!?" the jester exclaims, shocked, horrified, and enraged at the sacrilege he saw before him... "YOU! SACRILEGE! TREACHEROUS DEFILER!" he screams, pulling the dagger from his waist and stepping forwards to bloody the Night Mother's coffin.
"W-wait! Cicero! She spoke! The Night Mother spoke to me!" Eleril shouts while raising his hands placatingly, not wanting to get stabbed. There wouldn't be much that she could do while backed into the coffin after all.
"N-no! You lie! Spout lies and deceit to hide your treachery! THERE IS NO LISTENER!" he growls, raising his blade in preparation to strike.
Eleril shields her face with a hastily conjured dagger as she leans against the Night Mother's body, "D-darkness rises when silence dies!" she exclaims in a panic. But quickly becomes confused when she feels no attack... She peaks her eyes open and spots Cicero standing there, his dagger on the floor as stray tears drip from his eyes.
"Y-you... Listener... Only the Listener would know those words! Words only known to the Keeper!... D-did the Night Mother truly speak?... Has her voice returned to her?"
...
Eleril gives a short nod as she feels the heavyweight of Cicero's gaze on her...
At this, Cicero's face lights up as he begins performing a strange jolly jig, hopping and dancing around the room like an incredibly drunk clown. "IT'S TRUE! SHE'S BACK! MOTHER IS BACK! SHE'S BACK SHE'S BACK SHE'S BACK SHE'S BACK! HIYAHAHAHA! IT IS FINALLY TIME! ALL HAIL THE NIGHT MOTHER! ALL HAIL THE LISTENER!" he maniacally laughs.
Only for the door to the room to get kicked open as Astrid, Arnbjorn, Festus, and Babette run in, the latter two faces looking worried when they spot Eleril crotched in the Night Mother's coffin.
"By Sithis! Whatever you've been planning is finished, clown! Be still and I'll end this quickly." Astrid growls as she tightly grips the blade in her hand.
"W-wait! It's not what you thought, Astrid!"
...
"What do you mean, sister? Was he not about to cut you down!?"
"ME!? Cut HER down!? CICERO WOULD NEVER DO SOMETHING SO TREACHEROUS! SHE IS WHAT CICERO'S BEEN WAITING FOR! WHAT THE FAMILY HAS BEEN WAITING FOR!"
Astrid turns to Eleril with a glower, "What does the clown mean, sister?"
Eleril shrivels slightly under the woman's intense glare, but raises her head high as she composes herself, "I-... I think I'm the Listener..."
...
CREATORS' THOUGHTS
Niggross
Niggross
Hope you bois liked the chap, if I missed anything please let me know. Thanks!
Also, thanks to my patrons for their support :
ShinAmazake
Kingsprovince
Faruk Ereng
Weekly Power Status
200+ Power
Ranking 
0 Power
stone 
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