So there they stood, Chaos and Madness, together again.  The two looked on into one another’s eyes, secrets locked away deep within them.  Dread filled their thoughts as those secrets refused to open, and before long, the two were lost in contemplation of the omens they were seeing.  Why had they so suddenly been reunited, and why did their eyes seem so sad?  Standing in silence, the Madgod’s Chamberlain watched as an unfamiliar aura began to breach the golden portal.

A single white hoof materialized, golden-tipped, as the vortex of magic gave way under the intruder’s.  Slowly, an equine body began to take shape, a white alicorn.

As Princess Celestia was in the process of passing through the portal, Sheogorath snapped from his delirium and bellowed, “Looks as if we have a guest, Chaos!”

Breaking free from his own trance, Discord sighed, “Honestly Celestia, why must you constantly keep tabs on me?”  Flying swiftly to the portal’s surface, he placed a single claw on the still-forming alicorn’s horn.  “I’m afraid this world is not for the likes of harmonious creatures, right Sheogorath?”

“Naturally!  Sorry lass, but this is ta-ta!”  Almost violently, the ruler of the realm sent a wave of magical energy toward the vulnerable visitor, sending her backward with enough force to pierce the vortex.

The younger alicorn’s voice groaned, “Are you okay, sister?  What did they do?”

Sheogorath laughed, “Your sister will be fine, lass.  She might have a craving for some cabbage, but she’ll wake up soon enough!  But, I can’t have you princesses barging in on my territory!”  With a snap of his fingers, the golden portal in the mouth of the lion’s head instantly shattered like glass.

“That’s a neat trick, shattering magic.  Where’d you pick it up?”

“Oh, you know,” the Madgod shrugged, “somewhere.”

Luna’s voice again called, this time demandingly, “Tell me what is the meaning of this nonsense!”  A small ball of cobalt energy formed where the center of the portal had been.

Discord whistled, “She has some fight, I’ll give her that.  Just like her sister, I suppose.”  He then came to a sudden realization, “How’d you know she was Celestia’s sister?  You never met her!”

“Ah, right you are, Chaos!”  The Wabbajack against the stone reacted to the foreign magic, sending a wave of purple energy into it.  The ball evaporated, and a slight shriek was heard as the magic rebounded into the younger princess.  “I did, however, possess a guard with much knowledge of the princesses.  You didn’t think I would forget everything I learned in those heads, did you?”

The draconequus sighed, “No, I suppose I didn’t.  I could have hoped, at least.”

“Bah!  Hope is for the weak!  Who needs hope when you have means?”  The Madgod stepped toward the statue to retrieve his beloved staff.  As he reached for it, he groaned, “If the truth be told, those memories linger all too perpetually.”

“Excuse me?”

“Memories.  The voices of those ponies I possessed.  I can still hear ‘em screaming in my skull!  Begging for freedom and mercy!  The lives I took, they haunt me!  I don’t know why, either.  It was never like this before.  I could have had anyone killed and not shed a tear, but now I’m being haunted by those bloody voices!”  Another surge of purple energy travelled down the length of the Wabbajack, passing through where the cobalt energy had formed.  The sound of shattering glass echoed out over the hill on the edge of the Shivering Isles.

Haskill sighed, “Being without a host for such an extended period of time has corrupted the Lord’s magic, or so he says.  Dementia and Mania fluctuate painfully, causing bipolar attitudes and painful hallucinations.”  Taking a few slight steps toward his master, the chamberlain manifested a ball of pink energy in his hand.

Discord cocked an eyebrow and asked, “Is this going to be a repeat of the last time we met?  I’ve dealt with your dark Dementia once, and I’d much rather leave now if that’s the case.”  He watched as Haskill placed the ball of energy onto his master’s head, washing away the angry scowl on his face.

“No, Discord.  This won’t be the same.  While I may have fluctuations, I still control my magic.  I may just have sudden urges to use it inappropriately…”  Grinning as the pain left his body, he chuckled, “But you know all about that, don’t ya?”

“You know I do!” the beast laughed, the mood suddenly shifting a few shades lighter.

But behind the laugh, the draconequus couldn’t help but worry.  Dementia, Sheogorath’s own personal evil.  I remember it.  It controlled him, and now he might lose control of it again.  I don’t want to be around when that happens.  But…something feels wrong about all of this.  I feel as if I’ve done this before, only… The two humanoids began to walk down the hill toward a small village in the distance, the elder waving for him to follow.  Only…I’ve never been here before, have I?  Maybe in a dream?

“Are you coming or not, Chaos?  I have an entire realm to show you!  There’s so much for you, a beast of nonsensical make, to enjoy!  Come, come!”  Sheogorath cheered, his magic balancing itself out with Haskill’s help.  A large smile graced his features while his chamberlain stood as apathetic as always.

Snapping from his thoughts, Discord took off through the air to catch up to his hosts.  He called, “Of course!  It would be my pleasure!”

***

She wasn’t really certain how long she’d been asleep.  In fact, she wasn’t even sure what knocked her out.  But when a violent tremor shook the foundations of the castle, Princess Celestia snapped back to consciousness.  Staring her in the face was a large, blurry black figure, flowing red robes swallowing it.

The statue of the lion’s head had crumbled, leaving nothing but dust on the slowly-eroding ground.  The entire western wing of Canterlot Castle had collapsed under the force of the tremors that radiated from the spot where the figure hovered.  Even Celestia found it difficult to breathe under the pressure of the energy the mysterious beast was releasing.

The figure’s eyes were the only clearly-noticeable attributes, one green and the other yellow.

With a deep, foreboding voice, the creature giggled, “Have a nice dream, Sister?”

***

“It would seem I was right after all, Haskill!”

“Right about what, sir?”

“The Gatekeeper was killed…”

The Gates of Madness were the first landmarks on Sheogorath’s intended tour of his realm.  Connecting the Fringe to both Realms of Madness, the Gates held a certain aura of awe and dread, filling all those that gaze upon them with a sense of uncertainty.  The first major landmarks any visitor to the Shivering Isles is likely to encounter, the Gates give a taste of what’s to come.

That is, of course, if the visitor is capable of passing through them.

Discord scoffed, “This giant mutant was beaten?  By what, one of those Passwall peasants?”  Taking a second longer to scan the fallen abomination, he chuckled, “I doubt that!”

“Perhaps it was one of the monsters the Khajiit warned us about.”  Even though the statement felt like one of concern, Haskill’s emotionless tone made it seem insignificant.

That’s getting old, actually.  This man seems too creepy, even for my standards!

“No,” Sheogorath snapped, “no animal could kill him.  No mortal, either, without the key.  No, something else did this to let the cat through…”  A sly grin stretched across his face as he pondered the evidence.

Discord sighed, “What’s so special about this goliath?  He can’t be that powerful can he?”

“This particular Gatekeeper is infused with the Lord’s own magic.  He is tied to Sheogorath in every way aside from physical.  To defeat the Gatekeeper requires knowledge that no citizen of Passwall could possibly attain.”  The chamberlain scanned the fallen monster, seeing it seemingly unscathed, sewn flesh disregarded.  “The last time he was defeated, it was using the tears of the witch that bound it together.  When Lord Sheogorath’s champion reconstructed him, that weakness was removed.”

So what you’re telling me is that this thing is immortal…but it’s dead?  Right, of course, no, continue.

“I suppose I understand.”

Piercing a hand into the Gatekeeper’s chest, Sheogorath ripped two small metallic objects from the spot where the heart should have been.  Blood flowed freely from the cavity, while not a drop was stained onto the hand or the items it was holding.  One of the minuscule metal slivers shined a fiery red, while the other a watery blue.

The Madgod sighed, “The keys to the Gates of Madness.  They were never taken from the Gatekeeper’s body!  So…”  He scanned his guardian with sad eyes.  The scarred flesh and bloodied sword that connected to its dominant arm both looked pale in comparison to previous meetings.  “So how did that cat open the gates?  How did he speak to us?”

“Am I missing something?” Discord snapped, feeling the tension rise as his lack of knowledge surfaced.

“Indeed ya are, Chaos!”  Sheogorath threw himself off the ground, his Wabbajack sending a surge of energy to help him balance.  Putting the keys in one of his coat’s pockets, he growled, “Something killed my Gatekeeper!  Something that never landed a blow…  I want to know what…and I have a feeling someone in this village knows something!”

“If I may, my Lord,” Haskill interjected, his apathetic demeanor almost faltering in the rush, “but I do not believe you will find your answers with the peasants of Passwall.”

“Oh, really?  How would you know, Haskill?  Have ya checked?!”

Discord stopped in his tracks, not following his host another step closer to the village until his outburst of anger ended.  As he considered stating as much, something in the distance caught his eye.  A bright orange light shimmering some distance to the southwest continued to flicker in and out of life.

That’s curious, isn’t it?  It doesn’t appear to be a lighthouse or beacon…  I wonder…

“No sir, I have not.  I can only assume that the people of Passwall would have no idea.  After all, it was the Khajiit they assigned to pass through the Gates.”

Sheogorath opened his mouth to growl, or maybe it was to laugh, but in any case he was unable to follow through.  The visitor from another world chuckled, “You really need to relax, Madgod!  You’ll worry yourself into an early grave!  Besides, I agree with Haskill here; the peasants won’t know anything useful.”  With a smug smile, he wrapped an arm around the angry demon, waving southward with his other.

“What are you on about, Chaos?  Can’t you see you’re wasting my time!  I don’t like having my…”  Sheogorath’s eyes opened wide as the orange glow caught his attention.  His scowl was quickly replaced by an excited grin as he cheered, “Very astute of ya, my friend!  Keen eye for details!  Haskill, you mind giving our guest the details about that place?”  With one swift motion, he squirmed from his companion’s grasp and swung the Wabbajack toward the light, a beam of purple energy rocketing toward the source.

“I am actually quite curious, now that you mention it.”

The chamberlain sighed, “Of course you are, Sir Discord.  That place is known as Xeddefen, and it was a crucial point in the Lord’s stand against the Greymarch.  Through it, his Champion was able to free the Fringe from Jyggalag’s army.”  Looking outward toward the still-flying cloud of black magic, he continued, “The ruins caved in after the Champion finished his business in them.  Ever since, they’ve sat untouched…until now, apparently.”

Sheogorath burst into laughter, “So it seems, Haskill!  And I have a feeling that whatever killed my Gatekeeper is related to that orange light!  It would take bravery or foolishness to test Madness!”  Raising his free hand high in the air, he snapped his fingers.

Instantaneously, and rather disorienting, the three of them warped through space itself, stopping just before the entrance to the fallen ruins.  As the draconequus attempted to gain his bearings after such sudden movement, a sharp pain shot through his skull.  While the Madgod and his chamberlain began to walk up a small hill behind the entrance steps, Discord mentally struggled against the invading sensations.

“So this is you?” a mysterious voice whispered in his ear.

Who are you?  What do you mean?

The voice hissed, “You are not ripe.  You cannot be harvested.”

What am I, a fruit?  The pain dissolved into confusion, allowing the beast to regain his senses.  While the voice continued to pierce his thoughts, he managed a normal outward appearance.

“No.  You are a host.  Potentially.”  The voice fell silent, all euphoria that had accompanied it vanishing with the sound.

Sheogorath’s cackle snapped Discord back to the present situation.  “Would you look at that, Haskill!  It’s an eye!”  He held up a large semi-spherical object of solid wood, painted in layers of color.  Two small tongues reached from either side of the sphere, almost like the meeting point for top and bottom eyelids.

Orange made up the majority of the surface, with a yellow circle closer to the center.  A small blotch of green rested just under a tiny dot of black, obviously the iris and pupil.  Together, the colors blended to create an odd and sickening image, something straight from a nightmare, it seemed.

Haskill attempted a show of excitement, “Fascinating, my Lord.  The companion to the other one, I assume?”

“Other one?” Discord snapped, overwhelming curiosity swallowing his thoughts.

“Ah, yes!  I mentioned earlier my dreadful sense of direction, didn’t I?” the Madgod laughed, holding the eye up toward the sun to admire its beauty.  “How I took a wrong turn at the World of Ruin, correct?  Well…I stumbled upon another world in my lost week…”  He looked at the draconequus with nostalgia in his eyes.  “There was a tribe of tiny imps wearing masks, dancing around a massive bonfire.  Ah, when I showed up, you should have seen their masks!  Even the masks changed shape!  They were so terrified!  It was wondrous…and sad.”

Haskill sighed, “The Lord of the Never-There has that effect on people, I’m afraid.”

“Quite,” Discord admitted.

“They were so terrified they even mistook me for a god!  I mean, I am a god, but still.  They mistook me for their god!  When they asked what would make me happy, I told them I’d like a magic mask like theirs!”  Taking a second to turn the eye over in his hand, he boasted, “They brought me the most beautifully terrifying mask I’d ever laid eyes on!  The colors and coating were so abysmal; I could hardly stand to look at it…”

The chamberlain interjected, “The mask was actually being used to host one of the tribe’s demon-gods.   When Lord Sheogorath placed it on his face, it came to life with the demon magic and tried to devour him.”

“Yes, and when I realized it, I shattered the mask into a million shards!  The traitorous tribals were executed on site, without remorse.  And, despite my destroying the mask, the eyes remained intact.  So I brought one home with me.”

Discord choked, “You brought a shard of an ancient demon back to your realm?!  Are you insane…?”  As he realized the answer to his own question, a sudden surge of shame flooded his face.

“Naturally Sir Discord,” Haskill confirmed.

“Besides,” Sheogorath chuckled, “The demon left the mask the second it shattered.  No, it’s either dead or in another host.”

“How can you be sure?  The eyes didn’t break!  What if they’re hosting it?”

Without a single doubt in his mind, the Madgod explained, “The mask reacted when I put it on.  It stole some of my magic from me.  I would be able to feel that magic if these eyes were holding it!”  Placing the eye in the pocket with the keys to the Gates, he advanced slowly toward the apprehensive foreigner.  “I assure you, my mismatched friend, that these eyes are harmless!  The demon that they once held is no longer a problem.  It stayed in its world, like a good little boy.”

“And your magical fluctuations?” the beast snapped, unconvinced.  “When did they begin?”

“Are you really going to do this now?  Here, in this place?  Surely not, Chaos!  We’ll discuss these things once our tour is finished!  So much to see, so few hours in a day!”  Wrapping an arm around his uncertain companion, Sheogorath added, “I could change that, ya know.  But it’d get a little too messy…”

Haskill took the time to reassure his master’s guest, “If the demon was of any threat to this realm, it would have done what it wished by now.  It has been several months since the first eye returned with our Lord, after all.”  Taking a moment to fix the collar of his jacket, he turned to follow as his master took off away from the ruins.

By this point, Sheogorath was already on the trail leading back into Passwall, leaving Discord to stare blankly at the unconcerned ruler of the realm.  With a single question, the mood of the entire scene shifted darker.  Of course it would have been the foreigner to ask the question.  The only one of the three not rooted in some form of Madness would be the one to search for connections.

“So what killed your Gatekeeper, if not the demon’s eye?”