O/K: Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Ondolemar

My mind, like that of any mer worthy of the name, is a thing of perfection, composed, rational, and clear as crystal; the vessel of flesh in which it is contained is also, I dare say, impeccable in every possible respect. But of late this purity, granted to me by right of birth and honed over the years like a precious gemstone, has been tainted by a most disturbing presence.

I refuse to recognize this alien entity within me as a new trait of my own character; no, it is as if I am being possessed by a completely different person, who goes out of his way to take control over my body and spirit, pushing me aside so that I can watch, helpless, as he commits all manner of atrocious actions under my guise.

This insolent intruder, this parasite I am forced to host, makes my behaviour seem undignified and erratic at best; his stance on certain matters is so contrary to my own beliefs that it is almost terrifying - but worst of all, he is an addict. A hopeless, utterly degraded addict, kept alive only by a single desire to quench his repulsive thirst. And it is not skooma that he craves, nor is it any of the other vile substances that serve as gateways to the realms of Sheogorath and Sanguine. His addiction is to a living creature - a being of the lower order; a human; to be even more precise, a female Redguard with a ringing, silvery laugh and eyes that you can drink in like strong wine of deep blue colour...



These last ridiculous, raving words were not written by me; it was him, the impostor, that moved my hand, quite against my own will; he emerges from the dark depths of oblivion, ensnaring my mind, assuming command over my body, every time the object of his unnatural affinity is mentioned in any way. His impulses appear to be guided by an intense, insane longing to always be near the aforementioned human, to see her face - through my eyes! - to hear her voice - through my ears! - to feel her breath, to touch her skin, and perhaps to stoop even lower than that - all through my body!



Why this all-consuming, despicable addiction came to be in the first place is beyond my comprehension. As I said, the creature that, for the interloper inside my mind, is the equivalent of the strongest skooma, is a human, and for a superiorly bred mer such as myself this fact alone would have been more than enough to avoid her, especially since she does not even belong to the higher class of humans (which is not much of a status, incidentally, since anything is higher than the level of dirt beneath our boots) that the agents of the Dominion are brought into contact as part of fulfilling their duties. No, she belongs to the peculiar class of people that roam the roads of this province in abundance; calling themselves 'adventurers', they seem to find great pleasure in climbing down into the very bowels of old crypts and caverns, dragging out into broad daylight whatever worthless, sickeningly unclean objects of questionable origin that they dig up within, and searching for fools that can be coaxed into buying their finds.


As if this degrading life calling was not enough, the human wretch possesses none of those few almost negligible shreds of dignity and intellect which sometimes distinguish certain humans among their brethren, making them somewhat, albeit insignificantly, more tolerable. She has the disposition of a ten-year-old child, intent on never, under no circumstances, taking anything seriously and passing through life with the ease and mindlessness of a forest beast; her chief occupation, aside from smearing the remains of some long-dead Nord savage all over herself and doing various exceedingly humiliating menial tasks for other humans, appears to be 'making friends', as she calls it...



And it is in the wake of this insufferable, exasperatingly enthusiastic, loud-voiced, ever-smiling abomination that I am dragged across the entire expanse of this gods-forsaken land, driven by the invisible being inside of me. The intruder uses any excuse to be close to her and to remain by her side for as long as possible - like for any addict, for him enough is never enough. And by using my hapless self to do his bidding, he does not compromise my reputation alone - he hinders the entire Cause of the Thalmor.



It has recently come to our knowledge that the Redguard, who at first glance could have appeared harmless if utterly irritating, is in reality a dangerous heretic - although I wouldn't be surprised to learn that, with her level of mental development, she herself does not realize it. Our suspicions were proved true after a series of incidents, in a particular the infamous jailbreak at Northwatch Keep, which she definitely had a hand in orchestrating, and the fiasco at one of the receptions that the First Emissary hosts at the Embassy for our human supporters. The wretch had somehow found a way to get hold of an invitation and, after completely ruining the entire event (I still find it hard to come to terms with the realization that at one point the usurper of my mind almost succeeded in forcing my lips and tongue into touching hers) stole a number of valuable files, including the dossiers of Ulfric Stormcloak and of the last Blades not yet eliminated by our forces.



Naturally, this immediately turned the meddlesome human into a target of the prime category, to be attacked and brought down on sight, and the First Emissary commanded me to rally all my available operatives - the hunt had begun, and every single agent was needed on it.

How the interloper within me writhed when I heard my orders, making my face drain of all colour and turning my 'It will be done' into a barely audible, tremulous whisper... How he struggled with me as I sat at my desk, working on the text of a missive to be distributed among all my Justiciars, trying to take control over my right hand and stop me from writing the words, 'Her death is seen by the First Emissary as essential'.



He was in agony; I could sense that - an addict about to be forever deprived of the object of his longing, the source of his elation, the very essence of his existence... I was certain, so certain that I had finally triumphed over him, that soon he would be gone from my life forever, together with the human he was so obsessed with... But now I know that I was terribly wrong.