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7: Cycles, Growth (inside and out) and Blooming

This was the twelfth attempt. It didn't stop hurting.

Katia remembered her list of 'things she had become used to' from earlier, when she first arrived in Riften. Drunkenness, whoring herself out for more drinks, the depths of despair and so forth.

She had forgotten the biggest lynchpin of all the things she would just beat herself up yet carry on against, hereto forever until the curse and the increasingly positive avenues it had gifted her, yet still remained concerned with. Failure. She likely failed everyone she had ever met at least once. Several times for some, like Quill-Weave or even the empire itself, and she always felt indebted to them. Especially now, as she failed to control her immense power once again and caused so much trouble for so many people.

Though perhaps it was a sign, even more than falling in love and marriage, that she was truly mature. In fact, even deeper than that? The biggest victim of failure was herself.

As deep as that was, she looked at The Empress, once more as she plunged her claws into Whore's throat, after once more rushing from the darkness and savagely murdering one of Katia's old, detested aspects. This wasn't a triumphant victory for her either. The Empress, still an identical copy of Katia's old skinny form, had a face born of pure fury.

This wasn't too surprising. The Empress had failed to capitalise on her sheer malice and killer instinct eleven times now. Every time she got close to victory, Katia pulled them from the dream and brought them both to the start. The act of feeling Harlot being kicked in the back of the head to wake up was another sign of failure. Both of their failures. It couldn't have been more appropriate.

Attempt thirteen... there had to be a way. Eyes-In-Stars had given her this revelation, in part thanks to Tar-Meena, but Katia was always one to fail, fail and fail again.

But she wouldn't give up. No. She almost did after attempt five, much to The Empress' loathsome and wicked smile, but then attempt six happened. Katia's every attempt to learn about her negative traits and what made them tick finally yielded results, and she was shocked at what she found.

Harlot, Katia's old sense of worth, liked to sing.

It struck her more than anything else she had witnessed about herself that she had never tried to sing. Maybe some far-flung memory she had buried alongside these aspects, as an innocent child, but there it was. A real, if separated aspect of herself liked to sing. Harlot was like any person out there. That people were so nuanced, even someone as shallow as Katia herself found little glimmers of uniqueness in these three long discarded parts of her self.

Harlot explained that she had a desire to have a non-physical attribute that made others want her around, so she liked to sing and make herself appealing. To do right by them, so by that single fact, Harlot was Katia's original moral compass. The one thing that stopped her from being spiteful and selfish like The Empress. Intentionally, anyway. Katia was still socially clumsy and had an aversion to dealing with her own people, the khajiit.

Slut, of course being her femininity, loved to feel desired; a literal attention whore, Katia supposed. This gave her a desire to learn how to dance and impress people and to be attractive, but also she wanted to dress nicely. Katia realised she had her to thank for her ability to draw outfits for herself before Slut got buried beneath the 'new' Katia; she hadn't drawn or worried about her clothes since being big, and maybe a good part of that was the fact she couldn't wear normal clothes, but Katia suddenly wanted to design her own outfits again.

Whore, Katia's old libido, just loved to make people happy and was happy as a result. Of course this took the form of sexually pleasing them before herself, but it was still something positive. Whore was probably the most troubled of the three, since she was the one who suffered the most abuse at the hands of her drunken one night stands and almost never got fulfilment. Katia couldn't wait to show her the pleasures of which she now indulged with Quill-Weave.

The long and short of these three was that they had worth, and not for some personal boost or quirk or boon. Katia felt awful for her mistreatment of them the first time they met. This was her objective now; she wanted to save them, maybe find a way to pool together and escape the dream before The Empress attacked.

Of course, The Empress wasn't going to take this sitting down. Not when the utter bitch knew Katia's plan but just as the dream started with Katia drawn to Slut, Harlot and Whore, Courtesan was 'somewhere else', as each of them less than helpfully advised her each time she introduced herself. Unlike the first time, The Empress didn't linger or take her time when interfering; as soon as Katia took over one of the three, she was on the warpath.

The challenge was convincing her aspects to help her with what felt like a few minutes each time. While joined in some ways, they lacked the full power of Katia's shared mind such as she had with The Empress, and convincing the other two while she possessed the third was hardly a good start. It put them at arms length rather than bring them together.

Maybe there was another way...

She needed help. She needed someone who could make friends in a heartbeat.

So she reached out.

* * *

To any prospective onlooker, neither argonian was demonstrating the species core value of stoicism very well.

Dar-Ma's arms were wrapped around Tar-Meena's waist as she screamed bloody murder.

Tar-Meena, arms raised and pointing toward Katia's enormity to coax the rock slab beneath their airborne canoe ever onward, was also screaming. The sort of scream a child would scream as she leapt from a tree into a lake as a dare, or ran in mock terror from an imagined monster just to cause a ruckus. A scream born from a massive grin as it devolved into a wild cackle.

The sorceress, once the curmudgeon of the Arcane University's library, had never been more excited as her telekinetically controlled boat hurtled across the morning sky towards Katia, now in the range of sixty miles tall. So big you could build a city on her belly and have room for a few villages around it. So damn vast the areolae around her stiff pink nipples were likely a mile around. Katia's once modest bust now so colossal that it put any island or hill to shame.

It messed with Tar-Meena's perspective in a bizarre but fascinating way, yet despite her excitement, she started to push her path lower; to Katia's lap.

The scale of the khajiit continued to play tricks, but as the Dar-Ma and Tar-Meena drew near, they both marvelled at the spectacle of their friend. With shocking grace, the sorceress lowered them into what was best described as a forest of fur on Katia's meaty right thigh. Each hair was thicker than most trees, easily pushing towards ten feet in diameter at the base. The skin below was almost scaly in its appearance where miniscule creases and wrinkles were almost imperceivable to all but the most focused and intense stare.

They landed with impressive grace owing to Tar-Meena's continued mastery of mysticism and climbed out of the boat, each marvelling at the alien landscape. The scholar, the youth and the mage in Tar-Meena wanted to just explore, study and observe, but the friend, the mentor and sensible argonian took over. Tar-Meena sat down, placed a hand against Katia's skin, and began to drain the magicka supporting the impossible amount of khajiit body.

Dar-Ma sat down and sighed with relief to be on what was close enough to solid ground. Despite being a mere flea to the grandness of her friend's body, and that the odds of any thread climbing up to their place miles above the ground being especially remote, she kept watch just in case.

"So, how long do you think this will take?"

Tar-Meena shrugged. "She's busy inside," she said as she tapped the side of her head, "so I'm having to drain her from almost full without her purging her magic. Not to mention we've not really tested her magicka reserves at this size so I don't know how long even starting to shrink her will take, although that's of a similar speed than her growth but let's be honest; she's been growing for hours." She looked at her companion and gave an honest grin. "We've done the hard part, Darms; we'll be alright."

"I wish we could help her," Dar-Ma sighed.

"We will. I promise. I was already planning to go over the new information I've learned with her so we can maybe help treat her. Hopefully this time in a more focused way."

"No, I mean now. Shrinking her is all well and good but like you said, she's struggling on the inside."

"Oh. I see." Tar-Meena rested against a giant strand of fur and closed her eyes as she continued the drain. "Yeah, I wish I could dreamwalk to the same extent too. I understand her methods but even I can't use it; it's so unusual. When I took that nap, I had to follow my knowledge and familiarity to get to Eyes-In-Stars, and that's abusing the saxhleel communion path we all share_._ If Katia was reaching for me, I might feel it, but I don't know how much focus she has in light of the danger she faces."

All was quiet for a time.

"So, do you think we'll be back for breakfast, lunch or dinner? Speaking of which, when Katia gets small enough, you'll probably need to do some hunting; she's going to be ravenous."

Silence. Probably in thought and worry, so Tar-Meena tried to distract her or at least fill the empty air.

"See, one flaw at being big is she tends to digest food and burn body fat quicker; it's the same principle to how she builds muscle... you listening, Darms?"

Tar-Meena looked at the girl and saw her flat on her back.

"Dar-Ma!"

She leapt to her side and put her face near the unconscious woman's own; she was breathing, and a quick feel of her wrist gave a pulse.

"Wait..." Tar-Meena focused, using her beginners understanding of dreamwalking.

It was faint. A mental strand, but too weak to grasp, but she felt it. It bridged Katia and Dar-Ma.

"Shit. I hope you know what you're doing, big girl. Otherwise Seed-Neeus is going to kick both of our asses." Tar-Meena sighed and resumed draining Katia's mana and couldn't help but feel proud that Katia, as insurmountable as she often seemed, wasn't above calling for help.

* * *

"Where am I?" Dar-Ma whispered into the blackness.

Nothing. Then something.

Dar-Ma! It's Katia!

"Wait, where are you?"

Inside... hold on, let me try something...

A fog formed from the darkness and condensed together into an ethereal khajiit.

"This is weird," Katia said with a voice like a distant echo. "Oh, right, I can't actually take shape here. See, I've been taking over these versions of myself with-"

Dar-Ma just stared and blinked.

"Right, sorry, Dar. Um... okay, let's just get to the important stuff." The phantom Katia clapped her hands, although no sound emerged, "how'd you like to make friends with me all over again, but three times over?"

"If it helps, absolutely!" Dar-Ma beamed her legendary smile, and Katia's spectre did much the same.

"Even if they're gross exaggerations of my worst parts? They're offensively bad sometimes."

"Katia, you saved my life and we're friends. I'll do everything in my power."

Katia tried to bite her lip and she was sure if she had tear ducts, she'd be wet eyed. Instead she tried to hug Dar-Ma, only to phase through her.

"Damn it. Okay, we don't have forever, I'll explain what we need to do and let you try a few times. There's four aspects of myself that I'm kinda stuck to. Three are old parts of me that I might have disowned but I realise I can't leave them behind. Then there's The Empress. She's the horrible part of the old me that made me do the awful things I did to Anvil."

Dar-Ma nodded and said, "alright, so how will I know which is which?"

"Well, that-" Katia said but stopped, then cocked her head, "you know, you're taking all this surprisingly well."

The argonian giggled, "Katia, come on. Making friends is my thing and doing so with you again sounds like even more fun than normal."

"Okay. Um... in that case, befriend the bubbly versions of me and be careful of the serious, stern one. Give it a try and see how it goes, and I can restart the dream so you can refine your technique a couple of times, but I don't know how much longer I can stay asleep though."

Dar-Ma bounced on her feet and said, "alright, I'm ready!"

The tall, green scaled argonian blinked in so suddenly that three copies of Katia all shrieked and backed away. One was holding a giant, wet scroll.

"Aah! What the fuck?" one squealed.

"We're, like, being attacked!" yelped the second.

"It doesn't have a cock! How're we going to subdue it if it doesn't have a cock?" cried the third.

Dar-Ma hunched down, her arms raised in submission and she remained calm. "Hey girls! I'm sorry to bust in like this. I'm Dar-Ma and I'm not here to cause you any trouble. Do you know Katia? She's told me all about you!"

The trio all looked at each other as their stances relaxed, then looked at the kindly argonian with curiosity and intrigue.

* * *

Katia watched Dar-Ma at work from afar. She couldn't interfere; every previous attempt where she possessed one of them put her other aspects on edge, even if she did learn some important details about them. Small slivers of progress each time she reset, but it took too long to garner trust every time. So long that The Empress would rush to interfere.

Floating freely in the void of her own subconscious, although still dark with a fleshy floor and walls, Katia explored. She had seen The Empress attack and watched, but as she had hoped, without Katia physically (metaphysically, she guessed?) present, it was like the first time. Calm and relaxed.

She looked at Dar-Ma again. She was hugging Harlot and being hugged back in return while the khajiit's tail whipped around like an excited puppy! How in Oblivion did she do that? It hadn't even been long; maybe the same timespan as it took to find the wall.

Out of curiosity, Katia moved closer. It was just simple conversation; Dar-Ma was asking about what each liked, she would bounce the topic back and forth and show interest in what they talked about, then moved to more common ground in what Dar-Ma liked. She was a natural. Katia could only dream of being so unabashedly friendly; every time she tried, she usually offended everyone around her. Especially other khajiit. For a moment Katia wondered if that was why she couldn't work her way into Slut, Whore and Harlot's good books, but they were still based on the old Katia. The Katia who was (if anything at all) closer to a redguard, the Hammerfell natives, than a khajiit.

There she went again; after what Quill had been trying to convince her that she always had strength and that Katia was never truly useless. That lurking doubt that Katia would have achieved half of what she had in this past year by her own merit. Would she really have been entrusted with recruitment? Building anything? Trusted to work alone, or even with people she trusted rather than under constant scrutiny. Sure, Tar-Meena had been assigned to watch Katia and further her research on what the khajiit had been cursed with, but they developed a bond.

No. Katia had to save these old parts of herself. She had to bring them back into her world. No more cheating, no more borrowing better parts of Dar-Ma to make her a worthwhile partner. Katia Fucking Managan would shoulder their burden as one entity.

Dar-Ma had hugged and chatted with each entity and they all mingled together as if they had been friends forever.

That was when Katia saw her; The Empress, skulking and observing from afar. She circled the four entities in Katia's mind with a grim expression, crouched low and poised to strike as her claws extended. Mehrunes Dagon as a part of her...

Katia darted in front of the predatory fiend; if she was going to confront everything about herself, then this monster inside her was just as much a part.

The ethereal Katia forced herself to appear, just as she had with Dar-Ma; her phantom emerged from the nothingness and The Empress hissed and hopped back.

"And here I was wondering if you had done the sensible thing and given up," The Empress said and tittered. "What sort of ploy are you attempting bringing that foolish argonian in? Do you think some 'friend of a friend' situation will really turn things in your favour?"

Katia shook her head. "I wanted to talk. Nothing more. You can't hurt me and I'll just keep resetting if you push through. I've drowned you in my dreams, you've tried to take over my body, you've come back because of this hist-born hallucinatory dream and I doubt we'll get another stalemate like this to maybe work something out."

"That's a shame, 'Primary'" The Empress spat the word. "You may be where I've developed, your little complexes and lesser madnesses may be what gave me form. Your impure and petty sex-starved ego may have given me true power when you whored yourself out against Mehrunes Dagon. All I care is I want to live, truly live, and I won't allow you to get in my way!"

The Empress charged at Katia and threw her shoulder against the wisp-like khajiit, but was stopped dead in her tracks; just as Katia couldn't enter The Empress' body, at this size, the would-be liege couldn't push through in return.

"Tough shit, you upstart bitch!" Katia snarled. "You of all people should know I'm through being pushed around. Completely fucking done with being useless. I'm gonna work out how to purge you from me or broker a peace, but you're not going anywhere!"

Katia let her form shift; she let tendrils of herself coil around The Empress and hold her. They struggled; Katia's form was breakable in these thin trailing limbs, so she drew inspiration, with a deep if invisible smile, in her wife in the dreamwalking world.

Katia took the form of a serpent and wrapped herself around The Empress; a single, solid body. Metaphysics was a bitch.

"I can't be removed, you pathetic fool!" The Empress spat, "I AM you now! We're inseparable! Don't you understand? Everything special about you comes from ME! I have taken your curse, the essence of Mehrunes Dagon and given you a form worthy of my rule, and while your weak-willed simpering and mewling may hold me at bay, I couldn't leave if I wanted to! T'is a matter of time!"

"Last time I checked, I'm mortal. I can be wounded. I can die. You have fucking nothing but an angry stray living in a little hovel in my head!" Katia's body, such as it was, swelled and wrapped tighter.

"In the time you've taken to crawl from the abyss I kicked your tail into, I've fallen in love! In the time you've taken to form this ridiculous, low-effort plan, I've made friends! For every time you think you'll win by your own power, even as lofty as it is, I'll have a friend to cover every weakness!"

The Empress cried out in pain as Katia continued to constrict.

"The day you think you have any chance of winning, I'll end us myself! You know my thoughts, you know this is true; I've considered that path before, but now I have no regrets. I've left my mark. I have a son, for fuck sake! I have a wife who will remember me! What do you have!? Fucking tell me!!"

Katia's body flashed and flickered and felt something draw her away like a strong suction. A shell was being formed and she was being drawn to it. Despite her amorphous size, Katia felt like she was being confined, but it felt comfortable some how. As if something missing had just been given back or a crack in her head had just been filled and repaired.

She saw through yellow eyes. A body of yellow fur. It wasn't as familiar as she expected but she didn't have time to inspect herself.

The Empress tried to stand, but stumbled back and stared at her with teeth bared. She wasn't wounded, but winced as her body crumbled into dust and left a phantom just as Katia had been. A vague wisp that balked and tried to speak with lips that no longer existed, but she was just that; a phantom, a lesser aspect to the true master here.

Katia was in control. She was in control of her past as much as her present and future, in control of the good and now the bad as well. She was complete again for the first time since she was a child, yet had the power and skill of her most recent years.

The Empress knew this and saw what must have seemed like a monolith, a true titan of ego and self assurance. The Empress screamed and slammed against the new master of this realm, only to bounce off of her as if she had thrown herself against a cliff-face. Katia would have laughed if not for the moment the violent spirit swam around her and dived towards her negative traits and Dar-Ma.

Katia sprinted in pursuit and cried out, "look out!"

Dar-Ma looked first and put herself between the rushing menace and the three confused khajiit. The Empress took the bait as her body swirled around the argonian and coiled in on her just as Katia had done to her. Dar-Ma screamed in pain, at first attempting to pull at the near invisible force as The Empress compressed in, but then the argonian clutched her head. The Empress was trying to take her over!

Katia realised her mistake; just as Katia was familiar with Dar-Ma, so much so she could take her form, The Empress had that knowledge too.

It couldn't end like this! Katia couldn't lose Dar-Ma. She rushed to help and push her way into the swirling malice that her darkest self was formed form. She couldn't reach Dar-Ma as her scales grew dark and her eyes glowed red. Her claws extended and Dar-Ma's little horns stretched longer. Katia just wasn't strong enough!

Hands on her back; Slut, Harlot and Whore.

Katia, as one. No more self-derision. They pushed with all their might. They forced their way through the swirl. The Empress stabbed at them, tried to infest them. This outsider had no place here. The Empress' negative, destructive power just couldn't pierce the armour of self respect, of Katia's sense of worth, her sense of feeling strong and even something as feeling attractive.

Katia was a mother (on a technicality, but she would ignore anyone who disagreed). She was a joined partner in a loving, respectful bond of matrimony. She was a fucking badass already, capable of holding her own in a fight and cast an ever increasing list of spells. She had dreams, hopes and a plan to enrich the lives of those around her. She had already left an impression on so many by saving the Imperial city. Katia had left a mark on Chorrol by saving one of their number.

_This_was Katia Fucking Managan. The Empress was the whore to her own ego. She was the slut to her grand, formless designs. She was the Harlot who relied on nothing but power born of happenstance.

They reached Dar-Ma amidst the maelstrom, but what now? How could she help Dar-Ma as The Empress broke Dar-Ma down? Katia doubted the argonian was weak willed, but against this enraged supernatural threat?

Dar-Ma was spirited and Katia knew this. She had proved that when she was captured back near Chorrol; the moment she was freed from her prison, she didn't need escorting out; she took up a weapon and fought her way out. She was strong, but she had no idea how to fight this threat as she lacked knowledge of magic, let alone dreamwalking.

That was it! Knowledge! Where might failed, Katia had always relied on her wits. She had accepted her old self and what better way to prove that by precisely not using her brawn or magic but things she knew. Katia had borrowed Quill's memory of Dar-Ma. She had used it as a crutch to boost her relationship and attraction. A part that was close enough to Dar-Ma that maybe she could give it to her, and with it, Katia's knowledge of The Empress.

Katia put her arms around Dar-Ma and focused inside of herself, to try and draw out that part of her that wasn't truly part of the Katia whole, but it was too deeply rooted. Dar-Ma screamed in such pain and pain that Katia felt herself begin to stir from the nightmarish, horrific sound. She needed a new angle of attack, and fast; pulling from within wasn't working, but what about pushing harder?

As 'Primary' of this mind, stronger than ever, Katia was in control of this space, so it was time to act like it.

In the blink of an eye, Katia's body once more faded and entered Dar-Ma's body. It was like dressing in an old robe; a bit tight, but it was comforting. Their friendship, similarities and that aspect Katia wished to give away made the merger more appealing to Dar-Ma against the raging Empress as the daedric monster began to lose her grip.

"You can't win!" The Empress screamed, the anger bending to panic, "you can't stay in there forever and you're waking up! You'll damage her and we know it! You're running out of time!"

The Empress had a point, but hopefully bought Katia enough time. She found that aspect, the crutch she had used for so long, and began to try and force it from within and into the shell of Dar-Ma.

The argonian gasped, then growled as her body began to twist back, but with Katia within her, other traits began to manifest; fur began to sprout from between her scales and pointed ears sprung around the argonian holes in the sides of Dar-Ma's head.

"K-Katia? What's going on? I feel... weird!" Dar-Ma stammered as her voice swung as a pendulum between her own and Katia's higher tone. Katia at last felt that oddity within them, the part that wasn't technically a part of either of them but Quill's own imagination.

Katia left, and in turn, was free of that part of her at last. The khajiit traits faded from Dar-Ma's form and The Empress once more approached, then stopped.

Two Dar-Ma's stood side by side. Both had traits of Katia within them.

"What... but how?"

The Dar-Ma's grinned and spoke as one, "we wonder if you have time to try and take over both of us, in the knowledge that if you aren't secure by the time we awaken, you risk crippling Katia's mind?"

The Empress probed her own mind, but she couldn't get a fix on Katia. Whether it was how close they were, or some other trick, the entity couldn't tell. The horizon began to turn grey as Katia's body stirred further.

The Empress had ran out of time as both Dar-Ma's faded from sleep, and most importantly, left the refuse pile of Katia's mind as a whole entity.

As soon as The Empress faded from their view, one of the Dar-Ma's reverted into khajiit form, and the pair untucked their tails.

"I didn't know I knew tail talk!" Dar-Ma giggled.

"You do now, along with a few other parts of me, my friend." Katia said. Except it wasn't Katia as either of them expected.

She was a little khajiit girl, maybe five or six years old with her mane in a pair of pigtails and cute as a button all swaddled up in a simple nightdress and holding... a stuffed doll of the current Katia, a brawny looking toy in armour. Of course that was her toy on the outside, the self that had been given so much outside of her own achievements that it was more a skin she would now wear. No, this wasn't Katia any more. Not like this. Not when she had sworn to no longer run away from who she truly was.

The lost child that took to drink to cope with her fears which had spawned The Empress. She who had forced herself through so much to become someone else and pretend to be something she wasn't. All her other selves, like her femininity and self worth, all rejoined as a glorious entity. Alone, but never so complete. Many, never so united. A true Primary ego and personality. A name was becoming exhumed from within, and she almost didn't recognise it, but Dar-Ma spoke first.

"I'd ask what just happened, but I doubt we have long from what I know of all this." Dar-Ma whispered. She looked over herself; everything was normal again.

"We have a little time. You saved me!" The child giggled and hugged the argonian around the waist.

"Uh... you're welcome," the argonian said with a warm smile as both just enjoyed the relief and triumph of the moment.

"And you'll excuse me if I'm so bold to say that I saved you as well, Dar." The Primary looked up at her, dangerously smug.

"I know, I know... well, thanks right back, Katia!" Dar-Ma knelt down to get a better look at her. "You're adorable by the way."

"Yes. Yes I am. But if I'm being honest, I think I'm better in the real world. Still, thanks for the compliment. It still feels peculiar to embody somebody without the baggage holding me back. I feel like I've lived with chains all my life, and now I've finally cast them away."

Dar-Ma held the little khajiit away and looked her over. "You're different. Despite how young you look, I can feel you're strength. Even when you're being confident, you normally have a little hint of-"

"Doubts, I know. Not any more. I neither have the time nor the inclination for entertaining such falsehoods any more. I know who and what I am." The Primary pulled away completely, but gave Dar-Ma a huge, childish smile and then looked down at the toy Katia in her hands. "I don't care how much power I've been given, nor what was earned."

She held Katia up, as if speaking as it; much like a child giving personality to her dolly, but the words had such weight Dar-Ma felt like bowing. "This is me now, just as much as my old self is and what I plan to do now will be. We still need to truly join, but given time, Katia and myself will become one, once and for all."

"I'm happy for you, but most of all I'm just glad I could help." Dar-Ma clapped. "So... I think this dream's gone on long enough for me, let alone how long it must have taken you, Katia."

"Zaahni."

Dar-Ma tilted her head.

"That's my name. From before I reinvented myself. At least here." She once more clutched at the Katia doll in her hands. "Out there I suppose I'm still Katia Managan."

"Zaahni! Very distinctive!" Dar-Ma nodded, then bowed. "Well, Zaahni, shall we go see Tar-Meena and let her know of our success?"

"Let's. Dar-Ma." Zaahni bowed back. "Thank you, my dear friend."

* * *

Amidst the silence and the weird way the 'floor' kept contracting into itself (or herself, she supposed), Tar-Meena continued to be amazed. She had been at this constant drain of mana for hours and the sun was on the rise as midday approached, yet Tar-Meena was still fresh as a daisy.

It hadn't depleted her concern about her friend and her student, but then Dar-Ma grumbled and stirred.

"Morning, sleepy-head." Tar-Meena chuckled. "Is everything alright?"

Dar-Ma sat up and yawned, then squinted over at Tar-Meena and stared for a few seconds before she smiled in return. "Yep. I think we'll be just fine."

A grand and high up rumble sounded. Both argonians looked skyward and warded their eyes from the sun, only for Katia's head to block the near-noon sun.

On the faintest of whispers she could muster, she boomed, "hey. Sorry about all this."

Tar-Meena briefly stopped her magicka drain, cast another spell, then resumed her task and shouted, "it's alright, just don't move!" in an unnaturally loud voice. Katia nodded and continued to meditate as she shrank, but at over a mile tall, they still had a long ways to go before they could talk in a more natural way. Maybe it was the youthful energy that surged inside her, but Tar-Meena couldn't be angry at Katia.

Dar-Ma winced and stretched as she limbered up then looked around them; the forest of yellow trees had been replaced with a thick, overgrown field of fur that reached over the tall girl's knees on a thigh thousands of feet long but dwindling by the moment. She felt listless after sleeping and wondered what she could do to shake off the lingering fog over her mind, let alone the tightness in her limbs.

As if on cue, Katia's stomach bellowed a massive roar that made both argonians wince. They both looked up as she mouthed, "sorry," and her hand rubbed her belly.

"So, want to get hunting there, Darms?"

Dar-Ma gave a thumbs up and started on the trek off of her friends leg. She got a short distance away and stumbled.

"Hey, everything alright?" Tar-Meena called after her.

The young woman felt herself as if she expected to find something that wasn't there, then shook her head.

"I'm fine, I think. It was just a bit weird in there, I guess I'm still feeling things."

"'Feeling things'? You're still asleep by the sounds of it, but I think after everything that happened in the last day, we should seek a healer and make sure. That goes for everyone; even Seed-Neeus, even if only for frayed nerves."

"Probably a good idea. I'll be fine for now, don't you worry!"

Tar-Meena sighed; she trusted her companion to be sensible enough to say if she was truly worried. That didn't stop the mage from watching her leave.

If forced to confess, she would admit that couldn't take her eyes off that well toned ass in those leather leggings and the sway of her powerful tail, but she was concerned for Dar-Ma's health! Honest and true! Damn hormones...

* * *

He sighed. He looked at the spent black soulgem and then at the cold body of Bragne, dagger plunged into her chest with of her hands hands around the grip. A willing sacrifice to the glory of their lord, but all for nothing

The altmer glowered at the now still stone but he wasn't angry. The pulses had stopped and the stone had cracked, but he could still tell it held power. The tenuous connection had gone and the scouts had passed on a message that Katia was now shrinking and appeared to be in control of herself again.

He sighed again and threw a silk shawl over the stone, opened a drawer and produced a stack of books.

'The Commentaries on the Mysterium Xarxes' was on each spine. A personal musing that he had started as a ploy to lure like-minded people to his cause, but the Mythic Dawn was shattered and he had once more started from almost nothing and his remaining followers had been told to hide and listen for Mehrunes Dagon's return.

He thumbed through them, then at the titular book itself; the actual Mysterium Xarxes. A book written by Mehrunes Dagon himself as a means to tear open the veil between worlds.

Just like now, something had happened that appeared advantageous; the veil was torn for him, before he could put the book to use and his master had come through and laid siege to the Imperial City far sooner than had been anticipated and with far fewer tools necessary; no need for the blood of the royal bloodline or any such nonsense.

But the parallel was just as clear here, where this opportunity had now created a setback. Katia had been changed by some daedric influence, although the source was unknown, and she had vanquished Mehrunes Dagon. The opportunity was where Katia had partaken in Mehrunes Dagon's seed. It had gifted her true power rather than the feeble arcane studies of most mages, power that she still hadn't truly tapped into. At least yet.

So Katia became the target. His followers were convinced Katia was the 'bride of Mehrunes Dagon'. The altmer struggled to find it in him to dissuade this term. It was well documented that the khajiiti people had forms of all daedra as their own gods, and Mehrunes Dagon himself was represented by a great kitten, a destructive force, The Ja'Khajiit. Merrunz. The gender was irrespective; matters of the divine were never clear cut or so plain and binary; That this one khajiit was capable of such raw destructive power that he felt the ground shake. So immensely strong that merely falling to her knees had shattered miles of ground around her. She hadn't even begun to display the arcane strength that he knew she was capable of.

Katia was Mehrunes Dagon's lurking avatar in the land of men and mer, Each passing day she grew used to this power, the closer she became to embodying him, even despite this setback.

He just needed to wait. The only difficulty would be convincing the next jarl to let him continue; Jarl Bragne was a useful individual, and her support had given him the opportunity to make the Amulet of the Destroyer; a new relic beside Mehrunes Razor and the Mysterium Xarxes. Bragne was gone, and he felt only the littlest tinge of remorse he couldn't offer her a place in Paradise. But it was time to move on and live a simple life.

So he collected the amulet, his notes and as many books as he could carry and left before the guards detected anything was amiss.

If it took a year or a hundred, he would wait until Katia Managan's power was ripe.

Mankar Camoran was, if nothing else, patient.

* * *

"I won't lie to you, kitten," Quill-Weave said as she snuggled against Katia, "I prefer the old style body, but you're still sexy."

Katia was glad for the honesty, because Quill wasn't wrong. She had never been that big outside of a dream and the strain on her body become obvious when she shrank. Tar-Meena and Dar-Ma were too focused on the task of stopping her growth to really pay attention to her physique, but just like Tar-Meena, there had been some changes thanks to that fateful night.

She could only be described as more 'trim'. She was still muscular but thinner and closer to Quill's wiry build. That said, Katia had every intention of growing and exercising whenever she could; she enjoyed being described as muscular after a lifetime of being scrawny, and she was no longer ashamed of abusing her powers to attain it.

"Anyway, I'll love you no matter what shape you take, but... Zaahni, eh?" Quill's hand stroked the fur between Katia's breasts as her head used one of the swells as a cushion.

"Yep. Don't worry about it, though; I'm still your Katia, Porcupine Dodger," Katia said with a smirk as she stroked Quill's back and their tails coiled together.

Quill chuckled. "That's Kakar-Sutheeth to you. I think we can both agree it should be Quill and Katia forever, though."

The simple teasing and hugs were all Katia wanted. Well, maybe one other thing as she kissed her wife deeply. Katia's furred hands stroked Quill's gorgeous scales down and squeezed her firm, shapely ass...

A hammering on the door broke the kiss.

"Get your fuzzy behind up, Katia," Seed-Neeus' voice snapped. "the town isn't going to repair itself and I'm not footing the whole bill!"

Both giantess' sighed, but Katia sat up as Quill rolled onto the mattress pile alone, still a struggle as she held her vast, swollen belly. The khajiit said, "not even a full day to recover, eh? Shall we meet by the lake for lunch?"

"Sounds like a plan, my love. I'll be at the palace and helping organise things there; no doubt they'll have some messages for us to bring home to explain what's gone on with the assassination of the jarl. Once I get a chance, I'll have words with the folks at the Bee and Barb and see if we can't have a more relaxed picnic."

"I can't wait." Katia knelt down and gave Quill another kiss, but before she left, her hand caressed Quill's belly and she kissed the massive swell too. "Thanks, Eiss," she whispered and made her way outside, dressing in the blink of an eye as she exited the room.

Riften was abuzz with the usual activity; sailors were loading and unloading wares, dockworkers transported the cargo to a few warehouses nearby and merchants set up shop in alcoves by the vast storage buildings since the market circle was still overcrowded and only had one bridge to access it.

Katia rolled her shoulders and set about doing her stretches and was glad for the work. As different as she felt inside as Zaahni, life wasn't so quick to transform as she got to work.

* * *

Seed-Neeus had to admit it was good to see Katia settle back in to her old job. Clad in her basic and increasingly stained sail-dress and being knee deep in sewage wasn't the most ideal circumstance but she had the unenviable, but extremely practical for her size, job of setting up the foundations as workers constructed the deck, trusses and other components. Huge poles of wood was pile-driven down into holes she had dug beneath the filth and didn't grumble or complain; she took to the job like a consummate professional, which at twenty feet in height applied a veneer of spectacle for Riften's people to watch and muse over.

The argonian merchant looked at the sky and mused to herself, "where is that girl of mine? This isn't like her." Seed-Neeus wondered if the poor girl was still tired from her adventure, so she set about getting her a nice treat for breakfast.

She spied a fishmonger and his wife as they plied their wares. The plump woman was replacing a tray of kiln roasted fillets of salmon. Freshly caught, seasoned and perfectly cooked; the smell was intoxicating.

A hearty breakfast treat for her heroic daughter would certainly be in order. Seed-Neeus was already proud of her, but stepping up and saving the region from Katia's misadventure made her .

Seed-Neeus purchased a large paper parcel of spiced fillets set off back to the Bee and Barb.

The innkeeper, a burly argonian of dark green scales, smiled at Seed-Neeus' approach.

"Good morning, honoured guest. You're up early," he said.

"A lot of preparation and exchanged coin was needed to get Riften back up and running and I needed to make sure it was being put to proper use. Here; a little extra something for you and your guests, all I ask is you prepare something a little special for my Dar-Ma. I seem to recall your wife said she was planning to make a house special fricassee? That fish should go well, I'd imagine. I'll take three portions."

Seed-Neeus looked at the stairway up to the guest rooms for a moment, then back at the innkeeper as he passed the fish to his wife, and said, "you haven't seen my daughter or Tar-Meena, have you?"

"I'm afraid not, marsh-sister. I thought I heard some movement when I first woke up, but nobody came downstairs."

Seed-Neeus once more glanced at the stairs as she waited for breakfast. Her pride was still present, but she was growing worried that her daughter had taken ill. The moment the white-sauce, fish and vegetable stew was brought to the counter on a tray, complete with a stack of bowls and spoons, Seed-Neeus climbed the stairs to the guest rooms and looked at Dar-Ma and Tar-Meena's rooms.

She slapped her tail on Tar-Meena's door to awaken but not intrude, then made her way to Dar-Ma's room. Seed-Neeus turned to the side and fiddled with the door handle with her tail once more. After a brief struggle, she opened and entered the room.

"Rise and shine, my precious-"

Seed-Neeus stopped dead as the single bed wriggled and writhed with activity beneath the covers. A red tail slipped free and there was a gasp...two gasps. The matriarch slammed the tray on a nearby table and stormed up to the bed.

"Tar-Meena!? I swear, if that's you fooling around with my daughter, I'll skin you alive you sneaky skink!"

"It-it's not what you think!" Tar-Meena's shrill, panicked voice replied and the confirmation needed for Seed-Neeus to throw the covers off; true enough, the short but curvy mage scrambled to retreat, only to be blocked by Dar-Ma. Both were thankfully in their smallclothes but the small bed left little to the imagination as to what they had been doing.

"Actually," Dar-Ma purred as she slipped her arms around Tar-Meena's waist and rested her head on the sorceress' shoulder. "It's _exactly_what it looks like."

Seed-Neeus folded her arms and tapped her foot. "Dar-Ma! No matter what hist nonsense happened, she's older than I am! It's not right!"

"I-it's alright, I'll leave." Tar-Meena said as she tried to pull away from the larger, stronger Dar-Ma but the hug was tight and their tails intertwined as the flustered, now youngest girl was locked in a vice-like grip.

"I don't care about age," Dar-Ma said, "she's young again, she's noble, good hearted and you of all people should appreciate she's an important member of the mages guild. Didn't you always say I deserved someone who could care for and look after me? Who better than a woman with the ear of the emperor himself on matters arcane and demonic? Or the personal tutor of the most powerful woman in all the land?"

Seed-Neeus cursed the words. They were her own, after all. "I... fine, but you listen to me, Tar-Meena" Seed-Neeus stormed over to the tray and scooped up some fricassee with all the vitriol she could muster without spillage, then took up the bowl, "I'll not have you bedding my daughter so freely; you will court her like a proper lady, you will prove your intent over time, and we shall come to an agreement, and that's final!"

Seed-Neeus stormed out with a thunderous slam of the door and left the two young argonians to contemplate the words.

* * *

They ate in silence but never took their eyes off of one another. Dar-Ma was enamoured in a way she had never felt before. She made friends easy, absolutely, but lovers? She had little innocent dates but a few harsh words from her mother would send all but the most courageous packing. Even Quill-Weave showed surprising backbone after their age difference was made known; the author was eight years older than her, after all. Apparently Quill had a taste for younger women, and both Dar-Ma and Katia a preference for more mature types.

But then, that would make sense, wouldn't it? On their trip back home, Katia explained what happened in her mind. How Katia had once taken and absorbed Quill-Weave's dream of Dar-Ma, by all accounts a very accurate representation, and had used that as a basis for Katia's lacking experience with relationships, affection and even sex.

Dar-Ma honestly didn't mind; if it helped her friends, then that was what mattered, but now that part was now layered into Dar-Ma. Just as Katia had taken attributes from her, Dar-Ma now had a little bit of Katia in her. For one thing, she would have never fought against her mother like that, even if it was a very sensible debate; no matter what happened, she liked Tar-Meena before the age gap was closed, and now that Tar-Meena was by all accounts in her late teens, Dar-Ma was the older, bigger and dominant partner.

Something about that made her spine tingle. It felt right. Maybe that was Katia's dominance but it didn't matter. Dar-Ma wanted this powerful, yet innocent girl in her life the old, defensive mage was now a perky little thing and it drove Dar-Ma wild.

A wave of nausea rolled over her; they had been ongoing, if thankfully infrequent since returning from Katia's mind. They weren't any major concern, just a strange burst of vertigo, but they were becoming difficult to hide as she spent more time with Tar-Meena.

So much so, as her spoon fell into her breakfast, that her new bed-partner stopped eating and looked at her.

"You okay there, Darms? You've been a little out of for a while now, even if the healer said we were all fine."

"I'm sure it's nothing," Dar-Ma said and stirred her food, then lifted it to her mouth. "I did get pulled into our friend's head by force and nearly got possessed by some aspect of Katia that had something to do with a daedric prince, so I figure there's some side effects to be expected."

As Dar-Ma chewed on her food, Tar-Meena nibbled on her lip and forced a couple more spoonfuls down before she placed the bowl on the bedside table. She then dug through her robes many well hidden pockets and produced a her journal.

The young mage flicked through as Dar-Ma did her best not to stare our of curiosity; they had both changed since that little adventure, and Tar-Meena bounced between her old, serious and studious mage, to a shy but brilliant teenager and a hot-blooded, excitable adventurous woman given the right stimulation. Half the trip back to Riften was filled with Tar-Meena's musings that Katia seemed intrigued by but almost all of it flew over Dar-Ma's head.

Dar-Ma herself had trouble noticing her own changes. Sure, standing up against her mother so openly wasn't a common occurrence, nor was the way she rough-handedly brought Tar-Meena (who was willing but hesitant) into her room where they spent half the night in a coil of arms, legs, tails and more than a little tongue action. More than anything she liked her new self as much as she did the new Meenie.

"I'm sure it's nothing serious but make sure you tell me if anything feels especially odd. Notably if you feel drained and sapped. Do you know any magic?"

"Uh, no. Why, what's wrong?"

Tar-Meena opened her mouth but failed to even utter a stammer; just a flutter of her jaw before she sighed, "never mind. I think I'm just being paranoid."

"Like I said, Meenie, I'm fine," Dar-Ma said, but the look on Tar-Meena's face made her question her own answer. "C'mon, Red, I want to make something of this and being open's part of it. If you think something might be wrong, then just say it."

"I was worried that The Empress' attempts to take you over might have had a lingering effect, but I think you should be safe since Katia helped protect you when she had manifested full control over her psyche at last, but you said Katia gave you the part of herself she mentally lifted from Quill's dream. A part that was a replication of you but not actually part of you... I'm blabbering, sorry."

Quill tittered and gestured for her to continue.

"Katia and myself have theorised about trait sharing since we spoke about it but never seen it in practice. I'm intrigued at what it could mean; if traits can be transferred, why not skills? Hmm," Tar-Meena cracked open her journal again and took a piece of charcoal and began to write.

"Just how much do you know about Katia's personal life, exactly?" Dar-Ma giggled as she continued, "any juicy details or sordid stories of her antics with Quiwy?"

Tar-Meena gave her a glare but it softened as she replied, "if you ask her yourself, I'm sure she'll tell you a great deal. She's mature enough to own her past and talk about it. I won't say a thing, though; I'm still under contract from the empire and even more than that, I don't like gossiping about her, Darms. She trusts me and I care about her. You of all people should know what that means."

"You're right," Dar-Ma sighed and fiddled with her fingertips. "That was insensitive of me to ask, I'm sorry."

"Insensitive...? You're definitely demonstrating some of Katia's old traits considering Katia can sometimes put her foot in her mouth like that. She's grown better though."

Tar-Meena sighed and stood, then paused. She felt her back and didn't withhold a giggle. "I won't miss that old creaky back. I really need to see about hist rituals."

Dar-Ma admired the now younger mage's back. And her ass, her wriggling tail, or the way that her hist sacs were visible at all angles except directly behind due to the more than generous swell. All wrapped up in a dainty little bundle that made something snap in Dar-Ma's head.

Her heart hammered in her chest. She wanted to pull the slender sorceress back onto the bed and have a far more involved session compared to the over-the-smallclothes playing that happened last night.

Her heart hammered even harder. Oppressively, even. Tar-Meena was saying something as she put her book back into her robe, but the words were drowned out by Dar-Ma's pulse. Each thump brought with it an strong tingle that ran from her chest to her belly and neck. Then to her head, arms and legs. Then her hands, feet and tail.

"M-Meanie? Some-" Dar-Ma started but her voice was smothered by a massive groan like stressed leather and bending wood. She couldn't tell if she moaned herself as her ears only caught the response from her body. Her brassiere creaked as the soft leather and linen was stretched. Her underwear fared worse as the garment split down one side and fell away from her ass.

"D-Dar-Ma!?"

"Meenie! What's happening to me!?" Dar-Ma managed as another thunderous pulse shot through her. The already strained brassiere burst with a massive snap and fell away as the already tall girl, who was still sitting on the bed as it creaked with protest, was now eye-level with the standing mage.

"You're growing!"

Dar-Ma looked at her green scaled hands and yelped as another pulse sent a tremble through her. Time seemed to slow as each finger stretched longer, then the hand itself as the energy flowed up her arms. Her lungs drew breath from the sudden extra volume. Her heart drew more blood from... somewhere as her heart bulged larger. Her legs stretched out from her hips and she gasped as Tar-Meena dodged them as the thickening, well toned limbs reached the wall of the ever dwindling room.

The mage drew from her experience and held out her hand. "Come! We have to get you out of the town now!!"

Confused and in a panic, Dar-Ma reached out and couldn't help but be shocked at how tiny Tar-Meena's hand felt. The increasingly diminutive mage grunted with effort as Dar-Ma stood up, and up, and up until her head bumped into the rafters of the eight foot tall room.

Without releasing Dar-Ma's hand, Tar-Meena cast a spell and the growing woman felt the pulses calm. She could feel her feet slide against the wooden floor, but it was no longer huge spikes, more a low, thrumming tickle.

"Whatever you do, don't let go of my hand and tell me if you feel any sort of build up."

"O-okay! It's- it is building! Oh Mara, what's happening!?"

"Come! Hurry!" Tar-Meena pulled the huge girl to the door and opened it. An angry Seed-Neeus ran up the stairs at the sound and gasped as she witnessed her giant daughter as she squeezed through the door.

"Seed-Neeus! Go on ahead, get everyone out of the fucking way of the town exit and make sure the gate's open!"

"What did you do to her!?" Seed-Neeus yelled.

"Mother, please!" Dar-Ma squealed as she began to cry. The energy was becoming unbearably strong in her blood as her pulse quickened.

"Nothing, damn it! Do as I say!!" Tar-Meena barked; the old, grouchy master mage came back in full and Seed-Neeus flinched then obeyed.

Tar-Meena continued to tug at the enlarging girl's arm, but she gasped as she felt Dar-Ma body tremble and surge.

The floorboards creaked and splintered as the girl sprouted from eight, to nine then ten feet tall. She stooped lower to duck beneath the higher ceiling of the upstairs landing and Tar-Meena was thankfully undeterred as she pulled Dar-Ma along. The mage couldn't physically drag the girl, who had to weigh almost ten times her weight or even more, but it helped focus Dar-Ma as she felt the slow build of the raw power inside her all over again.

The narrow stairs forced Dar-Ma to huddle herself into the uneven crawl space and the walls cracked and creaked. The morning patrons in the common room were still in arguments with the acid-tongued Seed-Neeus but they soon changed their tune as the ever enlarging argonian came into view. They all stood aside as Tar-Meena hopped and tugged the growing girl to try and force Dar-Ma to crouch lower. The door opened from an approaching patron but he cried out in panic as the stern mage and teary eyed budding giantess forced their way out into Riften proper.

"How long, Darms!?" Tar-Meena yelled as she waved her hand to the side to gesture people out of the way.

"Huh?"

"Next spurt? How long?"

"I don't- oh no!" Dar-Ma's yelp was different. Her body shivered and a potent warmth pulsed from her heart down to her nethers. Her body reacted as before, with growth, but the emerging flesh bonded with her sensitive womanhood. More nerves, fresh and unspoiled, forced an electrical sensation through her as she cried out with oppressive arousal and if she wasn't panicking, she would have climaxed. Dar-Ma wobbled on her feet and tried to balance herself by pressing her hand against the wall.

The supporting arm, as it grew outward and the girl sputtered taller to fifteen feet tall, punched through the wood as easy as a big sheet of paper. Dar-Ma gasped, but this time she retracted her arm and covered her face in embarrassment as she once more tried to resist the offensive arousal and stay focused but couldn't hold back the moan.

Tar-Meena's expression shared in the bashfulness even as she gawped and once more tried n vain to keep the new giantess moving.

Seed-Neeus ran past them and screamed, "get out of the fucking way!!" Her forceful voice, as grand and powerful as a mythical dragon, had the desired effect as everyone abandoned the stretch of footpath towards the exit and the guards set to pulling the vast, well braced wooden door open.

Dar-Ma forced herself to move. Her ever heavier body felt as light as always but the bizarre sensations that continued to build, as well as her tear-stricken vision, caused her to stumble about. She accidentally stepped on, and through, through the wooden section of the walkway and was sent into a stagger.

In a bid to not fall her arms once more swung up and she pulled Tar-Meena off of the ground, and as she cried out in panic, lost her grip.

Dar-Ma's power flooded body exploded as she almost came again as the most intense tingle yet flushed through her body. She swelled all over as eighteen feet, twenty, twenty five feet of argonian giantess dominated the town. Her hands covered her pert sacs and darted between her legs for modesty. The urge to collapse into a ball and hope this was a horrible nightmare became the strongest emotion in her, but a voice sparked her from huddling up.

"Dar-Ma!"

Katia climbed out of the canal and rushed to the girl's side. She grabbed Tar-Meena and pressed her into Dar-Ma's chest.

"Hold her. I'll get you out of here." the khajiit said, her voice calm but firm.

Through the tears, the growing argonian held Tar-Meena as firmly as she dared and nestled her between Dar-Ma's sacs and she resumed draining the endless magic.

While shorter, Katia's brawn let her effortlessly guide the girl through the rest of the street, then down at the town entrance. Katia then dropped down and pushed her legs through the small passage and wriggled backwards to keep an eye on Dar-Ma.

"Crawl! Tar, walk beside her and keep draining! Move, move!!"

Neither argonian was going to argue. Katia waited for Dar-Ma to get down herself and continued her snake-like movement through the town entrance and kept the panicked growing woman focused. Dar-Ma's increased size made it harder, especially with her mind abuzz with the weird power that continued to build for another spurt, but Katia beckoned her onward, never losing eye-contact.

"Shit, it's gonna happen again!" Dar-Ma squealed as her upper body emerged from the short tunnel and the tremors across her body triggered once more. Tar-Meena scrambled up onto the girl's back and Seed-Neeus darted through, but Dar-Ma's body trembled as another spurt kicked in. Her hips pressed against the edges of the tunnel and, in a spark of disciplined focus, Katia grabbed Dar-Ma's arms and pulled with every ounce of her strength.

The larger girl pulled free even as her legs exited the other end of the tunnel, and the thirty two foot argonian fought through the spurt induced panic and finally crawled free from Riften. Even with this narrow miss, the argonian's tail slapped and punched through the archway as if it were made of paper.

"Katia, I can't stop it!" Tar-Meena said as she rode atop Dar-Ma like a mount. "Where's Quill? Maybe if we both drain the power, it'll be enough!"

Katia's eyes flittered about in thought and she replied, "I don't know if that'll work but it's worth a shot. Seed, try and find Quill! I'm going to 'walk' and see if I can find the source of this inside her, maybe sever it!"

Seed-Neeus darted back into town, albeit after roaring at everyone to get out of her way again. Katia sat and closed her eyes and, within moments, her head nodded low. Dar-Ma sat up, and it was obvious that she was stunned by the damage she inflicted on just the ground with such a simple motion; to experience strength like that for the first time, she couldn't help but imagine what it was like for Katia and it terrified her. Just like her, any of Dar-Ma's movements could hurt someone.

"Are you alright, Dar-Ma?" Tar-Meena climbed up on the giantess' shoulder and stroked her cheek.

"No..." Dar-Ma sobbed. "How big am I going to get!? Why is this happening?"

"We'll work this out. I promise!" Tar-Meena patted the girl's shoulder. "How long until the next one?"

"It- it feels like it's slowing."

Katia snapped to again and grimaced.

"I almost don't want to know," Tar-Meena grumbled.

"Okay, girls?" Katia said as she stood. Her voice was calm, but it was obvious she was biting back a panic that swelled as hard and fast as the growth Dar-Ma had just experienced. She stared at the distraught girl and said, "once Quill gets here, you're going need to hold Tar-Meena, carefully carry Quill and follow me."

"By the Nine, Katia, what's going to happen to her!?" Tar-Meena demanded.

"So that aspect I passed on? It's... um," Katia's ears flattened and she bit her lip. " I can't be that certain but it looks like it has most of the parts of my curse. On the plus side, it's not like the original casting; it looks like it lacks the same mind altering side me and Quill were subject to, just the effects I have now.

"That said, I've managed to slow it down by guiding the flow in a cycle..." Katia shook her head and continued, "details can wait, most importantly she won't grow for a while, and your drain is extending the cycle, but when it reconnects it's going to be... uh... dramatic. Since Dar-Ma's not used to using magic it's running rampant in her and drawing a lot more magicka from Oblivion since she doesn't have an internal regulation like anyone who uses magic has."

Dar-Ma blinked and stared through the tears in confusion.

Katia knelt down by Dar-Ma. "You're going to get a lot bigger, and it's going to happen soon, but if Tar-Meena and Quill keep draining it, we'll be somewhere safe. Try not to worry," she placed a gentle hand on Dar-Ma's shoulder, "me and Quill shrank down after our first growth, so I'm sure it'll be fine."

Seed-Neeus bolted through the entrance again, followed by the sluggish, burdened run of Quill-Weave. Katia beckoned her wife over.

Quill said, "Seed-Neeus told me what was going on, but I scarcely believe it." She stared in awe at her ex-lover, who was twice her size. "I figure we don't have the time for details, just tell me what you need."

"Dar-Ma's going to carry you both," Katia said and stood, then helped the new biggest argonian to her feet. Dar-Ma then crouched and hooked an arm around Quill as she settled in and tried to get comfortable, and Tar-Meena tensed as the giantess' other hand covered the sorceress' legs to help keep her stable high up on the shoulder. "Just keep up the drain and it should give us time to get clear of the town walls."

Katia smirked as she struggled to lift her alone. The bittersweet fact she now had a peer in strength, someone who she really could unleash her full strength at and not cause any harm, wasn't lost on her a mere day after conquering that 'itch'. Dar-Ma finally stood by her own power and let her companions settle into place. With everyone prepared, Katia turned to Seed-Neeus, who looked both in shock and at a loss.

"She'll be alright, trust me!" Katia offered and knelt down. "Head back inside and try to stay calm. After all, we have the three best experts in the field on the case! But it's going to be dangerous; I wouldn't even risk Quill if we didn't need her powers."

She gently placed her hand around Seed-Neeus' back, like a hug, and the distraught argonian nodded. The usually stern mother gave a final conflicted look at her daughter, and walked back towards town.

They travelled south towards the Jaralls; the mountain range that separated Skyrim with Cyrodiil. Here they were far enough from civilisation to cause any harm.

At least, that was the hope.

Dar-Ma gasped and bared her teeth. "It's almost time, but it feels different... more intense." Her body began to shake violently. "Much much more!"

Katia disrobed and pulled her amulet off. "That's not surprising. Like I said, I stunted the energy but now it's about to all flow back in at once. A massive tidal wave instead of a gentle lapping shore. Okay, Dar-Ma?"

The growing girl gulped and nodded as she tried to keep from shaking. "Y-yes?"

"We're with you through every step of the way." Katia shivered as her own growth kicked in. "I'll even grow with you as much as I can, but you have to stay as still as possible. You're impossibly strong now, Dar-Ma, and you know how I've had to adapt; it will be a struggle, but I believe you can do it. You're about to get more strength than anything else around and even the mountains will bow to you. The growth will probably be intense and overwhelming, but we are with you! Sit against the mountainside and just let it happen."

"Okay." Dar-Ma obeyed the order and managed a weak smile as Tar-Meena and Quill both patted the girl and climbed down. "I'm scared out of my mind, but I'm ready, I- I think."

"Just remain still and, if possible, embrace it. Tar? Quill? Come on, let's get some distance and once she gets going, give me a boost, then I'll pick you up to keep you safe."

Katia was approaching Dar-Ma's height as she lifted her wife and Tar-Meena.

Dar-Ma gasped and tensed, then screamed. The slow pressure gave way to a geyser of power and there was no escaping it.

As the torrent of raw, unrestrained power forced more of Dar-Ma into existence, she grew.

* * *

"... all things considered, she didn't get that big. Only a mile tall."

High Chancellor Ocato stared at the speaker, ran his hands through his hair then glanced up at the Jarall mountain range for what must have been the twentieth time through his window. The once familiar jagged peaks now suffered a vast gap on the north-eastern horizon, like a missing tooth in a grim smile.

"Knight-Errant Managan, I'd hardly call her head being visible from the White-Gold Tower not being 'that big'! Let alone the fact she destroyed part of the Jarall's by brushing her tail against them or your own misadventure!" Ocato bellowed, but sighed and calmed himself. "At any rate, you're sure there are no injuries or casualties?"

Katia Managan, clad in her usual armour, saluted and said, "no sir! A few deer and a lot of trees and a couple of covens of crones where I grew. Oh, and a few broken windows from where Dar-Ma's foot launched some of those trees and a few rocks into the town from the speed of her growth."

"And how is Dar-Ma now? You're certain she won't grow like that again?"

"She shouldn't unless allowed to now that we've given her an amulet just like mine. Her small mana pool just mean the growth triggers are far more reactive. That is to say it's faster to begin with, but unlike mine which increases as I get bigger, her rate diminishes. For reference, ten minutes of growth for me sets me about one hundred and eighty feet tall, whereas Dar-Ma hits that in five minutes, but by ten minutes she's only two hundred hundred and seventy feet tall. That first spurt was just the 'settling' phase.

"Also, Tar-Meena has agreed to take her on as a third apprentice. Once Dar-Ma learns some spells it will be far easier to manage her condition and it may adjust these rates of growth. For now she's just adapting to the fact she's a little taller than me as the new standard, but don't worry, she's learning how to move like I do."

The chancellor ignored the paper on his desk concerning the property damage to Riften; at least that was paid for and repaired. "Yes, concerning Tar-Meena," Ocato said and took out another scroll, opened it and gave it a quick glance, "I've approved her transfer to the Chorrol guild, even though I'm loathe to lose her as the head archivist of the Arcane University. While we're on the subject of transfers, are you doubly certain you wish to resign your current commission to rejoin the legion on the front lines? You do know why you and Quill-Weave were offered the positions of Knight-Errant?"

"We do, and I'm forever grateful for the freedom you offered without getting in the way of the empire's finest, but I'm certain I can offer more in return by leading her soldiers. I just need an opportunity to prove it."

Ocato sighed and produced another sheet of parchment. He looked over the transfer order, took up a quill from the inkwell on his desk and wrote a few lines. He then rolled up the page, dribbled some wax over the lip and pressed a stamp onto it.

"Very well. You'll be demoted to centurion for the time being and given one of our senior officer's troops to command, and the officer will in turn observe you. If you prove capable for a few months, and rest assured you will be tested, we will grant you the rank of Captain and give you your own contingent of legionaries. Then you'll be expected to follow as directed, in all your abilities.

"This means your daedric growth will be openly called upon to achieve your goals, and to that effect we will have Quill-Weave act as your assistant as she will be the most readily available person able to shrink you. At least until we get a few other of your peers in the mage guild prepared and briefed to help manage your condition.

"We have granted you a great deal of leniency in your actions and leave in regards to Quill-Weave's pregnancy, but between your friends and affiliates, you will have to find appropriate care for the child. Is this clear?"

Katia nodded. "I understand, High Chancellor. I won't let you down!"

She saluted again as Ocato placed the order on a growing stack of rolled and sealed pages.

"Fight proudly, listen to your superiors and learn all you can about leadership and I do honestly believe you could do a tremendous amount of good. Crime rates in the towns you visit drop significantly, so seeing you approach on the front line of any upstart rebellion or invader should also save lives by the same concourse." Ocato said. "That will be all, Centurion. For the glory of the Emperor, long shall he reign."

"Long shall he reign!" Katia stood to attention and clicked her boots together, then turned about and marched away. It was time to prove herself once and for all, no matter how hard or difficult the road ahead was.

Katia Managan understood that she may be legendary for her size and the situations she found herself in, but in time, she knew she would be legendary by deed.

* * *

Ra'adiir stirred and coughed. The chilly air had overtaken the ambient heat from the prison and once more he struggled to find a position that allowed him to be completely covered by his threadbare blanket. It was still dark, but he sat up and gulped down a little water from a chipped and cracked pitcher, then wiped his chin.

Ten years of this shit. Ten years because everything he had ever held dear and hoped for would always come crashing down. Ten years because of that mysterious man and his alcohol and his fucking talk about destiny. Well, he guessed nine years and nine months; it might as well have been two lifetimes.

There was a little light that entered through the cell door and he half expected his neighbour to go on a racist tirade. It was almost a game; the dunmer, who was named Valen Dreth, would come up with some hilarious witticism about cats and Ra'adiir would dream up more and more vicious ways he was going to torture him to death.

Once upon a time Ra'adiir would have claimed to be a simple man with simple desires. He just wanted a little respect, a little love and enough coin to enjoy himself every so often. He had limited skills and had yet to discover any true talents as he was always crushed beneath the heels of his betters, although he confessed he enjoyed his time helping with Kvatch's reconstruction. Perhaps a life of carpentry was his destiny?

For now he was keenly aware that he was growing unhinged. The fact he was subjected to dunmer insults that were so petty yet more often than not made him bitter and angry almost all the time. He sometimes had nightmares of the things he had done and his victims almost always turned into vicious, otherworldly horrors.

Ra'adiir felt his throat seize up as he almost started to cry. He needed a distraction and realised the night guard was about to take over if his timekeeping wasn't off track.

The guard hated all the prisoners equally but he enjoyed talking about the outside. Ra'adiir suspected the guard used the topic to instil a sense of yearning, to drive morale down, but to Ra'adiir it was entertainment. After all, when life always tore the good things in life away, it stops hurting after a while and becomes an exotic, otherworldly adventure.

He also had a vested interest in that Katia Managan and always enjoyed hearing about her. A khajiit unlike any other and one that was intertwined in his life, or so it seemed. Ra'adiir also wasn't ashamed to admit he had spent several quiet evenings with a hand inside his sack-cloth trousers imagining what it would be like to be held and toyed with by such a woman. He never had a giantess fetish before the day she fucked that daedric prince to death, but he'd certainly developed one.

The cell door clanged and creaked open.

"Yes? Hello?" Ra'adiir called out.

Nothing. He stood and approached the door and still heard nothing. The light outside glistened off of the floor and Ra'adiir grimaced as he noticed what looked like fresh blood, and as he leaned out of the door, a potentially dead guard as the armoured man was face down on the uneven stone floor.

No. This was a trick, he thought. He had read some colourful books in his day about groups like the Morag Tong and the techniques they used. They had opened his cell door so that he would leave it and probably be killed by the true perpetrator and framed for a failed attempt at escaping, and the distraction would let the assassin get away. Even in death, Ra'adiir would be ground into the mud.

"Fuck this. Ra'adiir isn't going anywhere," he muttered, closed the door and returned to his thin blanket.

A clank and a creak again. Ra'adiir turned and saw the cell door once more open. Then a second door.

Dreth's door.

"Oh, that's just not fair, " Ra'adiir mused as he gratefully accepted the second invitation to leave his cell. His eyes were drawn to the source of the blood, only to catch the aroma of alcohol. Wine? The guard was still breathing too and, Ra'adiir noted, still had his sword, tucked safely inside its scabbard but his belt was loose. He looked up and down the corridor, but all seemed quiet. With a blink of his night eye, he glanced into the Dreth's cell and saw him sound asleep, complete with the rise and fall of his chest.

With a smirk, he gently took the sword belt, drew the blade, opened Dreth's cell door and entered.

Two minutes later and Ra'adiir now skulked back along the way out of the prison. He wiped his new sword clean from blood and he slid it back into its scabbard at his side. Everyone else was either missing or they simply didn't patrol the passage this time of night. At this point, he might as well take his chances and even dream of escape.

As rougher hewn cavern gave way to cleaner cut stone and bricks, a collective snoring rung out. Ra'adiir peered around the next corner and saw a veritable pile of sleeping legionaries, spilled alcohol and, most curiously, rose petals. The khajiit crept into the room and eyed a door with with glorious moonlight pouring through the barred window where a few moths fluttered about.

"You're welcome, by the way."

Ra'adiir gagged on a scream, coughed, spun about and drew his sword.

A robed, dark skinned man stood where Ra'adiir had just been a moment ago. Even in the gloom and despite his cloaked features, Ra'adiir recognised him immediately. The one who sent him on this huge misadventure.

"You!" the former prisoner growled and tightened the grip on his sword. "Give Khajiit one good fucking reason why he shouldn't run This One through!"

"Because that would be dull and uninteresting," the man said, only his bemused grin apparent. "Also I wasn't the one who played with Vaermina's skull to see if it would be worth enough septims for a boat out of Cyrodiil, hmm?"

"An obvious trick to fool Ra'adiir into using it. Besides, that evil thing is gone now, so it doesn't matter."

The man stepped forward and Ra'adiir pointed the sword at him, only for the hooded man to flick the blade into a burst of rose petals. The khajiit looked at the sword grip, then the tumbling flowers, and dropped it as he stepped away.

"Like I said, that would be boring," the hooded man sighed. "You look tense, friend. Tense and in need of a vacation. Somewhere nobody knows who you are so you can have a fresh start. Sound good?"

"This One can go and fuck himself! Ra'adiir's leaving!" Ra'adiir stormed up to the exit.

"How about some answers and honesty? I usually find it a bit dour but I wasn't lying when I said you had a good hint of destiny about you."

The khajiit turned and looked at the man for a moment. He seemed in deep thought.

"No." Ra'adiir grabbed the door handle and swung it open. Four moths fluttered in and roamed the room.

The man grimaced at the moths, but quickly continued, "it ends with you saving the world, earning a place of respect amongst heroes (complete with a huge house), the adoration of millions, fucking a khajiit with long mane and a big pair of tits and a kitten you'll have with her that will also go on to be a hero as well."

Ra'adiir shut the door and sighed.

"Honeyed words don't cover up the vast pile of bullshit This One is spewing." He turned and bared his sharp teeth. "Ra'adiir wonders if blood will do it, because he don't need a blade to fucking murder you."

"By cold blood and sour wine, you're boring," the hooded man yawned, "listen, friend, all you've got to do is get the skull back and bide your time. You missed the first opportunity a few days ago but if you find the skull, keep it secured and you'll know when the time is right. That's all. No strings attached. If you're not convinced, then be on your way and continue being a dull cat man who never amounts to anything."

"How do you know all of this? Who even are you?"

"A lover, a drinker and a man who lost a bet. Also a man who liked to keep things interesting. The name's Sam, and I lost a wager to a crazed old fool who set all this in motion. I'm trying to set things right for us when everything's gone wrong; things once thought impossible suddenly became possible. I won't stumble on about it; that would bore me to tears.

"The important part is this; did you know you were once destined to rub elbows with royalty? Acting as a dogs body, although a well respected one. Someone who travelled far and wide across Cyrodiil, joining all manner of guild? Finding old relics and eventually put a man into power who dies in a couple of days after attaining it, then vanishing into obscurity? I was supposed to sit back, have a few parties and occasionally deal with folk like you. Now, like yourself, I'm wandering and trying to find my place again."

"If you needed Ra'adiir's help, why in Oblivion did you drug Khajiit and dump him by that shrine?"

"Ask you to go travelling when you were under the thumb of Kvatch's finest? Not likely. No, I needed you loose, limber and ready to get into some trouble. Trouble that you found but, as I expected, found your way out of. I just didn't expect you to flat out use the skull in the middle of a city but that was my mistake. I'm not even going to do anything to you now besides let you go free; you'll find the way out of the Imperial City nice and clear of anyone but tipsy, forgetful guards."

"Ra'adiir just needs to find the skull, right? Not use it, just find it?"

"That's all," Sam said with a smirk. "Well, there will be a time when you will want to use the skull, but you'll know it when it happens."

"And Ra'adiir will be gifted with a busty khajiit girl and accolades beyond all measure?"

"Absolutely, friend!"

Ra'adiir grumbled and rubbed his chin ."And you'll leave Ra'adiir alone forever?"

Sam nodded.

"Alright, deal." Ra'adiir opened the door and fled into the night.

Sam sighed and removed his hood to expose his black skinned, red tinted face, complete with back-swept horns that sprouted from the sides of his head. He kicked a sleeping guard off of his chair with a mighty clatter of steel-clad imperial and took a seat.

"Why are you here, you loon?" Sam grumbled.

The moths burst into flashes of colour and swirled about into a spiral as they multiplied in number.

"Now that's just flat out impolite and roundly rude, Sanguine!" a voice called from within the swarm, which dispersed and revealed a grey haired and bearded man in clothes evenly split in red and purple, who now sat opposite Sanguine on a chair closer to a throne. One side was dark and dour, the other bright and golden.

"I was just abusing the loophole to wish you well on the anniversary of being quietly, soundly bested, old foe!"

"Anniversary? You're several months too late, you buffoon."

"Are you accusing me of failing to keep time? Do you have any idea how difficult it is to wrangle that stuff together? People claim herding cats is difficult but time really takes the cake! And if there's one thing I abhor above cheese cheaters it's cake takers."

"Whatever, Sheogorath. I've been herding cats just fine here; the big one has been setting herself up and the smaller, more playful character you just saw leave is getting ready to knock the house of cards down so we can all get back to what we're supposed to be doing."

"Hmph. So you say and claim to see," Sheogorath said as he narrowed his cat-like eyes. "All I see is big cats getting bigger and lots of lizards getting bigger in all sorts of ways too! Little ones growing in bellies, normal ones growing big and the already bigger ones getting rounder. It's a veritable garden of weeds and they'll spoil the garden party!

"And for a party planner your party planning forthis planned party needs more planning. And parties! You'll not wriggle free of our wager, Sanguine; they may call me mad, but what you're planning is lunacy when you haven't a moon to call your own. I look forward to watching you squirm like a worm in a cake as things fall apart and even the party jester weeps!"

"It's coming together, I guarantee that. Just you wait. I have big plans, Sheogorath. Big plans. You'll be begging to renege the wager long before it all comes to fruition and the longer it sits, the more full bodied it'll all be."

"Do your worst, you drunk. Or try your best. Whichever's better at being worse or at most the worst of your best. Just one more thing."

Sheogorath leaned forward and stared.

"Try to take less time to return to the interesting stuff next time around. At this rate another elder scroll will have emerged. You're getting lazy, methinks."

With another swirl of butterflies, the mad man was gone.

Sanguine sighed and leaned back in his chair and picked up a half empty goblet. It filled itself to the brim, then he took a long drink and sighed.

"Oh, piss off. It'll be done when it's done."

The End