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He looked at me with a well-practiced smile. “What can this priest of Arkay do for you, stranger?”
“I have some questions.” I say. I have more than some.
“I will do my best to answer them. Arkay speaks more than most divines, so his answers are strong.”
Taking this, I launch into my first question. “Is it possible for some mortals to re-form their bodies after death, through some strange magic, or is that limited to Daedra?”
The priest is taken aback by this question. The usual questions are probably nothing like this. More making sure a loved one passed through alright, or wondering why some are taken young. “That is a strange question. I have never heard of a mortal doing this successfully. We only have one life, and defying that is against Arkay’s will. If a mortal were to attempt this, they would not come back as they were. A daedra, on the other hand, can re-form as it was. Now, you must tell me what prompted this question.”
“I saw it,” I say, which is technically the truth. “I saw someone injured in a way that no one could survive. I saw their body fade into nothing, and their spirit rise, and a new body formed around the spirit.”
“There are two options I can see. The first is illusion magic, making the resurrected look like they were before.”
“It wasn’t an illusion,” I say. “Of that I’m sure.”
He tilts his head down, as if sorry for me. “Then it would be a Daedra. A thing of evil. You must find a way to banish it for good.”
“Thank you,” I say. I came here with more questions and asked only one, but the answers here only made me uncertain. I walk out of the doorway, not looking back.
A Daedra, he said. A thing of evil, he said. Not exactly what I would call myself.
“What would you call yourself?” A voice asks from within.
I have no answer.