FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Dusk was just falling when Baldor returned to make his report to Frea.

“It didn’t work!” he exclaimed, actually sounding panicked. “The stone kept its foul guard on their souls.”

“Why are you so late?” Frea asked, feeling a small sweep of relief wash through her. She’d been wondering if Baldor and the others she’d sent had been bound as well. Accompanying the relief was also a healthy dose of panic.

“Wulf wasn’t at the Wind Stone,” Baldor said. “He was at the Tree Stone, up in Miraak’s ancient temple. And he wasn’t the only one. A small crowd of Reavers are working there as well.”

“May the All-maker protect us,” Frea whispered. “It’s worse than I thought.”

Again, Frea’s thoughts turned to the Khajiit kept in the Shaman’s Hut. She knew that they were not to rely on Dar’mhirr too much, as they obviously couldn’t tell where his true loyalty lay. Hopefully, it was with them. But they still could not trust him.

Dar’mhirr was an interesting soul, driven by his desire to purge Tamriel of vampires. While highly unlikely and more than a little foolhardy, he was hell-bent on his path and would see it through to completion. That much, Frea never doubted.

Ah, well, it mattered little. He was bound in the Shaman’s Hut and Nikulas was standing guard over him. Though restless, the boy knew his place and part amongst the Skaal and could be trusted to do it.

“What should we do, Frea?” Baldor asked.

“Get my father,” Frea said. “He’ll know what to do. I’ll go check on Nikulas.”

Baldor nodded and ran off as Frea walked over to her hut, opening the door, she saw Nikulas leaning back in his chair, talking with Dar’mhirr. Frea was glad to see that the Khajiit was willing to talk again, but she was a little hurt by the freezing gaze he sent her way. There was no emotion in those eyes.

“Hail shaman,” Nikulas said, looking up at Frea. “How can I assist?”

“It’s late,” Frea said, patting Nikulas on the shoulder. “Go home and get some rest. I’ll take over guarding from here.”

“Aye,” Nikulas nodded. “Goodnight Frea, goodnight Dar’mhirr.”

“May you rest in the warm sands of sleep,” Dar’mhirr bid. “Goodnight, Nikulas.”

“Sleep well,” Frea enjoined him.

Nikulas nodded and went back out into the snow, heading off for his own house. He was a good lad, dedicated to his people, though restless and wanting adventure.

“How are you doing, Dar’mhirr?”

“Well enough, this one supposes,” Dar’mhirr mused. He didn’t seem angry to see her, nor did he seem happy. He seemed rather…lukewarm, as if she were an interesting species of plant he’d never noticed before.

“Do you need anything?”

The Khajiit moved his arms as much as his binds would allow him. “This one would like these gone. His arms, shoulders and back are quite sore.”

“If I can get your promise of compliance, I’ll let you out for a bit,” Frea said. She had a great deal of sympathy for the Khajiit.

The Khajiit in question seemed surprised at her suggestion.

“Really? You’d let Khajiit out of confinement? Just like that?”

“So long as you don’t try to make a run for it or attack me, yes.”

“Frea,” Dar’mhirr said, face going serious. “This one lived amongst you for how long and never once…once…attacked anyone. You think he would do so now? When trying to prove he’s innocent? And Khajiit would freeze to death long before he made it away.”

“Very well,” Frea said, walking over and untying one bind, then the other. The Khajiit set his arms down and looked at them in wonder.

He rubbed his wrists and stood stiffly to his feet, turning and cracking his back. He lifted his arms above his head and swung them down to his side again

“Thank you, Frea,” Dar’mhirr said, eyes going softer. “This one was starting to wonder if he had a friend left here.”

“I still don’t know if we can trust you,” Frea said. “But I do. However, my father would probably want you tied up again.”

“And Dar’mhirr will go,” Dar’mhirr said, hanging his head again. “But it still hurts. To have all the trust in you gone.”

He stood up and locked eyes with Frea, who stood a few inches shorter. “Khajiit needs to relieve himself. Probably be best if he didn’t leave alone, yes?”

“Er…yes, that would probably be better,” Frea nodded. Dar’mhirr nodded and walked out the door, Frea following closely.

“Accept my suggestion, Dar’mhirr. It would be easier on all of us. You could act as representative for me. To allow me a peaceful return to Tamriel.”

“Peaceful?” Dar’mhirr snorted. “You think anyone on Solstheim would accept your return peacefully?”

“No way to know until tried,” Miraak said, shrugging once. “Work with me, Dar’mhirr.”

“No,” Dar’mhirr hissed. “Khajiit will not join you. Now get out of his head! Because of you, the Skaal think he’s a traitor!”

“I can help you find your sister!” Miraak said suddenly, walking slowly closer to Dar’mhirr.

“What are you talking of?” Dar’mhirr asked, glaring at Miraak. “She is dead! Nothing you can do can change that!”

“No, Dar’mhirr,” Miraak corrected, raising a single finger. “Dar’shaza still lives. And I know where. I can help you find her!”

“Suppose Dar’mhirr believed you, even for a second, what kind of proof could you give him? More lies?”

Miraak gestured and a strange, tentacle creature rose up from the murky green-brown waters of Apocrypha. Dar’mhirr kept his composure as the Cthulhoid monster came closer and stopped in front of him. Reaching into it’s robe-like, leafy covering, the creature withdrew a single tome and handed it to him.

“No doubt, you are familiar with that book,” Miraak said. “Jo’akora is a very wise and powerful individual and a brilliant scholar. It is of little surprise that a book of his would find its way here, sooner or later. “The Story of the Khajiit: A Compendium”. A rather catchy title. Page 54, you will find what you seek.”

Dubiously accepting the book, Dar’mhirr flipped to the page Miraak had mentioned. There, present on the pages, was the picture of young Dar’shaza, her treasured wooden sword in her hand, as she charged in to combat. This picture had originally been drawn by Dar’mhirr’s father, Do’kharza, one of his grandfather’s cousin’s Ma’jyrr’s contemporaries in the Renrijra Krin, head of the Hammerfell Division.

“This one has seen this already,” Dar’mhirr scowled at Miraak, his eyes betraying no tears. Now was not the time for emotion.

“But you never looked past, Dar’mhirr,” Miraak said, stopping right in front of him. “No, you stopped when you saw the picture. Read past, if you have the courage.”

Dar’mhirr didn’t care if Miraak was baiting him. The infernal Dragon Priest had gotten him curious. He glanced down at the tome and a bit later, glanced at Miraak in surprise.

“Wait,” the Khajiit said. “She’s alive? Truly?! H…how did she survive the vampires?”

“Join me,” Miraak said, extending a hand. “And together, we’ll find her. We’ll get you two reunited! When Solstheim is mine, I’ll reunite your whole family. Your parents whom you haven’t seen in almost a year and whom Dar’shaza hasn’t seen since she was eleven.”

Dar’mhirr looked up at Miraak’s outstretched hand and hissed, batting it away.

“While your wiles may have served you in the past, Miraak, Dar’mhirr will not fall so easily. Khajiit is clever this way. While Dar’mhirr would love to find his sister, he has accepted her as dead for many years. That principle is what Dar’mhirr is built upon, yes? He can continue until you’re defeated. And once you are, then he will find his sister.”

“The truth is ugly,” Miraak said, presumably glaring at Dar’mhirr. “So be it. This time, we will have no further contact through dream. I can’t break your iron-clad will while you sleep. I’ll have to do it while you wake, until our final confrontation, foretold eons ago, can come to pass.”

Miraak reached up and grabbed his helm, lifting it off his head, revealing a Nord face below. With hair and goatee neatly trimmed and eyes a startling blue in colour, Miraak was not anything like Da’mhrr was expecting.

“I think it’s fair for us both to see what we’re up against,” Miraak said. “I clearly see your dedication to the cause and I can see your strength. You would have made an invaluable ally. But, you and I are on opposite sides. I’m sorry about this Dar’mhirr. You seem like a good person But Solstheim is mine. One day, you and I will meet again, and fight a final battle. And when your body lies broken at my feet, I will return to Tamriel.”

“Dar…I’ll be waiting,” Dar’mhirr said, tilting his chin up ever so slightly. “And when that final battle comes, no matter what the foretold outcome, I will fight you. I will fight to my last breath. And, Divines willing, I will slay you.”

Thunder rumbled and the whole dimension seemed to shake. Miraak looked to the sky and back down to Dar’mhirr.

“The die has been cast,” he said, donning his mask.

“So it has,” Dar’mhirr agreed.

“Begone!”

“Dar’mhirr,” Frea said, shaking the Khajiit’s shoulder. He was in a deep sleep, much like Frea had found him earlier. Barely breathing, eyes roving feverishly beneath his eyelids. “Wake up!”

She still didn’t know what it was about, the Khajiit falling into such deep sleeps, but she wondered if it maybe had something to do with Miraak.

Inwardly, the shaman-to-be cursed at Oslaf. If he hadn’t gone and gotten the village all riled up, Dar’mhirr would not need to be held in her cabin. Dar’mhirr even admitted his dream conversation with Miraak, which he undoubtedly wouldn’t have done had he been a spy. Besides, her own father had had dreams of Miraak. It meant nothing.

Now, however, was not the time to be lost in thought.

“Dar’mhirr!” she said frantically, shaking his shoulder harder. “Get up! Come on, Khajiit, get up!”

With a gasp, Dar’mhirr’s eyes flew open and he jerked forwards, pulling on his braces. When they stopped him short, he slid backwards again, supported upright only by the binds.

He panted for a bit, eyes focusing, before he looked up again at Frea, who had given him that time to recover.

“Frea?” he asked blearily. “What is it? Is it morning already?”

“No,” the Skaal answered. “It’s just after the moon’s zenith.”

“Then…then why were you trying to wake Khajiit up?” Dar’mhirr asked in confusion. “Has something happened?”

Frea nodded grimly. “About ten minutes ago, most of the village got up and left, heading out to the Wind and Tree stones. Almost everybody. Only my father, Nikulas, Aeta and Edla, remain. My father and the others are using magic to keep a barrier over the town, but they won’t be able to last forever. This is Miraak’s evil doing and I need help. But my father wants to know for sure you’re on our side, before we head up to the Tree Stone.”

Dar’mhirr sat there for a second, just processing everything that Frea had just stated.

“You want to have prove that Khajiit is on your side? Fine.”

He twisted his wrists around, extended his sharp claws and severed the binds around his wrists. He got to his feet and, with the greater dexterity afforded to him by not having his arms bound above his head, he severed the final strands about his wrists.

“Wait a minute,” Frea said, trying to comprehend the fact that her previously bound friend was now standing right in front of her. “You mean you could’ve severed these binds at any time? That you could’ve just…walked away? Escaped in the dead of night, with us never seeing you again? Yet…you stayed…in bindings that we put you in?”

“Dar’mhirr is trustworthy,” the Khajiit said simply. “And he was willing to undergo pain and humiliation to prove it.”

“Well…I…uh…thank you, I suppose,” Frea said, a smile on her face. “Makes it easier to determine that you’re trustworthy. Let’s go!”

Dar’mhirr nodded and followed Frea out. Though the wind was biting and Dar’mhirr was only in a fur kilt, he was consoled by the fact that he was now at least a little dependable to the Skaal.

Speaking of the Skaal, the remaining members, Nikulas, Edla and Storn, were bowed in a triangle, small stones at their backs. Between them, what looked like a tornado bloomed, a whirling column of snow and ice, that turned into an airy shield far above. Dar’mhirr was impressed by the show, but absolutely chilled to the bone. He rushed over to join Frea as she got close to the group.

“Father!” Frea cried over the sound of the barrier and the wind. “Father! Dar’mhirr has agreed to help!”

“You know you can trust him?” Storn asked, which hurt a little. Still, Dar’mhirr knew that, were he in the Shaman’s place, he would’ve asked the same question. He could hardly blame him.

“Yes father,” Frea said. “Dar’mhirr cut his binds and had every chance to escape. He stayed so we would trust him.”

“I must focus, daughter,” Storn said. “But if you trust him, I give my blessing. Stop this curse. And Dar’mhirr, I’m sorry I can’t trust you more. But trust is hard to come by.”

“This one understands, Shaman,” Dar’mhirr said, bowing a little. “He would feel the same as you.”

“Your armour’s this way,” Frea said, gesturing to the house closest to the forge. “We kept it in Baldor’s house for safekeeping.”

“Alright,” Dar’mhirr said, following her up and shivering from the intense cold.

They opened the door and Dar’mhirr rushed inside of Frea, shivering heavily. He quickly rubbed his hands togather over the fire and felt the soothing warmth start to take effect.

“Sorry,” Frea apologized. “I probably should’ve gotten you inside before talking to Storn. But you have fur? Doesn’t that keep you warm? It keeps animals warm.”

Dar’mhirr looked at her incredulously. “Why do you wear clothes? Don’t you have skin? Horkers have skin and they’re never cold.”

Frea tilted her head, considering, before nodding. “Point taken.”

Dar’mhirr went and located his armour, donning it quickly. The insulation of the armour helped assure that he’d remain warm, even in the frigid temperatures of Solstheim. And the armour itself would protect him well from danger.

The Khajiit grabbed his mace and gave it a quick half-swing, before clipping it to his belt. It was reassuring to have the comforting weight at his side. Picking up his sheathed dagger, Dar’mhirr attached that to his belt as well, before slotting his crossbow on his back. As a final attachment, Dar’mhirr clipped his bolt quiver to his back.

Fully equipped, Dar’mhirr reached to the back of his armour and grabbed the hood, quickly drawing it up over his cat-like ears, to keep them insulated from the cold.

“Let’s not delay,” Dar’mhirr said, turning to look at Frea.

“Aye,” Frea agreed, feeling a shimmer of admiration run through her beholding the Khajiit. Here he was, an individual only little more than a total stranger, whom they’d locked up for a time, coming to their aid. Dar’mhirr owed them nothing and yet, was potentially willing to give up everything. In his armour, however, Frea doubted that anything less that Miraak himself could bring down the Khajiit.

She turned and left the house, Dar’mhirr following right behind.

“Where are we headed?” Dar’mhirr asked, drawing a mask up around his mouth. “The Wind Stone?”

“No,” Frea said, looking back at him as she started off for Miraak’s Temple. “We’re heading to the Tree Stone. A word of warning, Miraak had built a massive temple up around it. This is probably where he’s planning on returning.”

“Then we’d best move quickly,” was the reply.