Chapter 1: Prologue: Unconfirmed Reports
Chapter Text
Halo: Demons and Dragons
Prologue
Unconfirmed Reports
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1449 Hours, 11 June 2560 (Military Calendar)
Aboard the Point Blank-class Prowler Midnight Marauder, Main Bridge
Distant orbit of Installation 07 “Zeta Halo”
A bright, blinding flash of orange light illuminated the entire bridge for a moment before being replaced by a lesser yellow glow that surrounded the ship. Each member of the bridge crew let out a collective sigh as the direct-energy attack from the last remaining Karve-class warship failed to penetrate their ship’s energy shields.
“Status?!”
A scarlet female avatar dressed in a Scottish arisaid and dress appeared in front of the ship’s captain, with a nervous smile stretched across the AI’s virtual face.
”Shield strength is in the yellow, around 42.6%. No new damages; however, the reactor is running a bit hot. Your requisition of the newer energy shielding is paying its dividends, ma’am.” Sophie, the Midnight Marauder's assigned ship AI, responded in a thinly veiled tone of relief.
“Alright, so we’re still alive, then. What’s the status on those longsw—“ Before the captain could finish her sentence, several bright flashes erupted from around and within the last Banished ship, leaving behind only molten scrap and debris.
”…Right. Recall the fighters and prepare for a random intrasystem jump. I want us out of here and running dark before any more of them can show up.” Commander Alayla-A268 peeled her eyes away from burning hunks of metal and leaned over the central command console, finally letting herself rest for a moment.
The last few days of nonstop cat and mouse with the Banished had taken a toll on the middle-aged ship captain. A decade each of missions as a SPARTAN operative and ONI field agent paled in comparison to the stress she felt in charge of a thousand souls aboard her newly minted Point Blank-class prowler.
She now looked back on her days of being a Headhunter with envy, when pointing and shooting were the most complicated decisions she ever had to make (except for one, she thought solemnly). With the defeat of Escharum and most of the Hand of Atriox by SPARTAN-117, she had felt more confident to help those trapped below on the installation, a confidence that just nearly got them all killed. The Banished still firmly controlled Zeta Halo, a lesson she and everyone else onboard the Midnight Marauder had learned very quickly.
Just before the final sequences of the Slipspace jump could be made, Sophie reappeared on the holotable and shut it down before it could finish. Bewildered and fearing the worst, Alayla sprang up from her resting position and prepared to shut the Scottish AI off before it could fully compromise her ship.
”Ma’am, we’ve received new orders. We are to abandon our mission at Installation 07 and investigate the disappearance of a SPARTAN team in the Khonsu system.”
“Under whose authority?!” Alayla replied to the AI angrily, still suspecting Sophie of defection to the Created. Ever since she nearly died aboard a disabled ship above Earth, Alayla had very little trust in “smart” AIs.
With a tilt of the AI avatar’s head, Alayla’s TACPAD buzzed and displayed a new file. Miffed by the indirect answer, she grumpily brought the small arm-mounted computer up to her face, only to pale when she saw the file’s sender and its potential implications.
Everyone had stopped what they were doing since the aborted jump and looked to their commander, silent concern on each of their faces. When Alayla finally looked back up from her TACPAD, she cleared her throat and spoke just above a whisper.
”Clear the bridge.”
Immediately, each bridge crew member got up from their post and left the room, from the executive officer to the lowest ensigns and enlisted personnel. As soon as everyone was gone and the door was shut, she brought the file up onto the central console.
//FILE TRANSMISSION RECEIVED//
OFFICE OF NAVAL INTELLIGENCE
NARROW-BAND POINT-TO-POINT TRANSMISSION
CLASSIFIED TOP-SECRET // FOR YOUR EYES ONLY
FROM: ONI AI MFT 2809-3, ONI PRO-00438 / STARS AUTOMATED EMERGENCY BROADCAST /
TO: OFFICE OF NAVAL INTELLIGENCE / SECTION THREE / BETA-FIVE DIVISION /
CC: CINCONI OSMAN, SERIN
SUBJECT: MISSION LOG 2233.343.984-CA
//FILE FORWARDED//
FWD TO: CDR. ALAYLA-A268, ONI PRO-92745
//START FILE/DECRYPTION PROTOCOL//
//DISPLAYING FILE…//
|Mission Log|
04:52 14.05.2560 - UNSC Winter-class prowler (PRO-00438) Now You See Me entered the Khonsu system outside of planetoid Khonsu III.
06:15 14.05.2560 - Drekar-class stealth corvette Fervent Exorcist located via hyperscanner. Additional unidentified facility of alien origin (designated Site 13405-A) also detected on the surface of Khonsu III.
06:23 14.05.2560 - STARS system deployed into orbit.
06:49 14.05.2560 - Fervent Exorcist confirmed destroyed from geosynchronous orbit via high yield CBU-R68 Moray space mine system. Successful field test of |*REDACTED*| (data unavailable).
07:19 14.05.2560 - UNSC Now You See Me landed on Khonsu III 2km from Site 13405-A in order to destroy remaining Banished forces located within and |*REDACTED*|.
07:22 14.05.2560 - Serval 1 and Serval 2 departed from the UNSC Now You See Me in order to assault Site 13405-A.
07:24 14.05.2560 - Serval Team arrived at Site 13405-A and made contact with ground Banished forces.
07:27 14.05.2560 - All remaining Banished forces eliminated. Zero friendly casualties.
07:28 14.05.2560 - Serval 2 made unintentional remote contact with an unknown alien control interface.
07:28 14.05.2560 - Anomalous energies and gravitational-like forces generated from above Site 13405-A (see relevant data here). Serval 2 was caught within the radius of the generated phenomena.
07:29 14.05.2560 - Serval 1 ceased efforts to retrieve Serval 2 from phenomena. Serval 2 was pulled into the center origin point of the phenomena. Contact lost with Serval 2. Current status of Serval 2 declared MIA.
07:30 14.05.2560 - Serval 1 escaped Site 13405-A.
07:32 14.05.2560 - Serval 1 arrived aboard UNSC Now You See Me.
07:33 14.05.2560 - Serval 1 confronted ONI AI MFT 2809-3 for control of the ship against recommendation. AI override code utilized.
07:34 14.05.2560 - /*STARS AUTOMATED RESPONSE*/CONTACT LOST WITH MFT 2809-3/CONTACT LOST WITH PRO-00438/CONTACT LOST WITH ALL UNSC ASSETS/*STARS EMERGENCY BROADCAST ACTIVATED*/
|End Log|
The pit in Alayla’s stomach deepened as she read through the report, her breathing erratic and body trembling by the time she had reached the end. While the logs only gave an approximate account of what occurred, the single word "MIA" next to Serval 2 was enough to set her into a near panic attack.
Furiously scrolling past irrelevant data sheets and instrument readings attached to the end of the report, she hurriedly read the letter directed to her from the CINCONI herself.
Commander,
Over the last month, no new information has been found, or even attempted to be found, regarding the sudden and unusual loss of Serval Team and ONI PRO-00438. This is completely unacceptable. In short, I need to know what happened, and you and your crew are going to be the ones to find out.
You and I both know we can’t afford to lose assets to the wind anymore, no matter how insignificant some of my ‘colleagues’ believe they are. Regardless of what happened to Serval Team, whatever the Banished found could be either a grave threat or a sorely needed asset.
In case you’re unaware, Khonsu IV was the only planet ever attempted at colonization, which failed due to an inhospitable environment. Khonsu III, the planet Serval Team landed on and disappeared, was strangely better suited for terraforming, yet never attempted. While I might be grasping at straws, it could be possible that the anomalous event at Site 13405-A is related to this.
Effective immediately, you are to cease operations around Installation 07 and depart for the Khonsu system. Determine the nature of Site 13405-A and report all findings directly to me. This is a strictly off-the-books mission, so make certain your people are aware of this. I don’t think you or any of your crew need reminded of the consequences for breaking such an order.
I am well aware of your 'relationship' with Serval Team, Serval 2 in particular. I expect you to make fully rational command decisions, regardless of what you find to be their fate.
- Oz
//END FILE//
On the verge of collapse, Alayla doubled over the holotable and reverted to her earliest SPARTAN training to try to calm herself down.
”Ma’am?”
Inhale, hold, exhale, hold. Repeat.
“Commander?”
…exhale, hold. Repeat. Inhale, hold—
“Alayla.”
Instantly, the commander’s eyes snapped up to the AI avatar’s face, which was only inches away from her own.
“W-what, Sophie?” Alayla replied meekly, causing an uneasy expression to spread across the AI’s virtual visage.
“…are you alright, ma’am?”
”I—“ The commander glanced back at the report, rereading the CINCONI’s final words. “Yes… I’m fine. Recall the bridge crew and prepare for a jump to the Khonsu system. I want Ops and all other department heads in the conference room in 15 for a brief.”
“Aye-aye, ma’am.”
End of Prologue
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Chapter 2: Chapter 1: Odyssey
Summary:
The first real chapter of the story...
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Halo: Demons and Dragons
Chapter One
Odyssey
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4E 188, 10th Last Seed, Mid-day
Canyon Cliffs and Mountains Along the Road to Blackwood
Northern Elsweyr Border, East of Rimmen/Northwest of Leyawiin
Do’ir warily stood watch over the young cub as she joyfully clambered over rocks and nooks in the sun-bleached canyon walls. At only six years of age, the young to-be Mane and princess of Anequina had an insatiable desire for adventure that her parents couldn’t fulfill, leaving the elderly mercenary to supervise her impromptu excursions into the wilderness.
“Do’ir, look!” M’aila exclaimed, gesturing excitedly towards a nearby series of outcroppings along the ridgeline.
The elder Suthay reluctantly tore his eyes off her for a moment, surveying what she thought necessary enough to point out. As he did, Do’ir was met with a highly unusual sight: large feathers scattered about surrounding a small, white and blue hatchling gryphon curled up underneath the remains of a torn-apart nest.
Before he could say a word, M’aila had already jumped down near where the destroyed gryphon nest lay. Knowing the potential danger she was getting herself into, he immediately leapt down and chased after her.
“M’aila, wait. That’s a fledgling gryphon; its mother could be nearby.” Do’ir’s warnings fell on deaf ears, as M’aila slowly approached the distressed hatchling anyway.
“It looks hurt, maybe this one can h–“
“M’aila, this one said leave it be.”
To Do’ir’s chagrin, the cub ignored his order once again, crouching just short of touching the hatchling with her outstretched palm, faintly glowing with a golden light.
“Dras'kay, trevan… This one won’t hurt you. M’aila knows Restoration, so don’t be afraid, ok?”
Wary of an angry mother gryphon, Do’ir scanned the skies as he crept closer to retrieve his grandniece before she got herself eaten.
“It cannot understand you, M’aila. If its mother comes back and sees us near its hatchling, it will–” Before Do’ir could finish his sentence, a gust of canyon wind blew towards him and overloaded his sensitive nose.
What he smelled instantly made his stomach churn: burnt hair, sulfur, and the familiar oppressive stench of metallic ozone. Peering further over the edge from where the smell originated, his eyes widened in cold fear. All along the walls and ground of the outcroppings, lines of blackened vitrified glass cut across in a cross-stitched pattern. Deep, clawed gashes were carved about at random, each dug several inches deep into solid rock. Sporadic mounds of flash-vaporized ash and bone marked the still-smoking corpses of several adult gryphons, and a large strip of dried blood and gore trailed off and into the canyon abyss.
Do’ir only knew of one creature that could create this kind of carnage.
As if responding to his thoughts, a deafening roar echoed through the mountains, followed by the flapping of wings belonging to the largest flying animal he had ever heard in his life. Without hesitation, Do’ir spun around with both of his palms outstretched, forming a Greater Ward in front of M’aila and himself just in time to deflect a torrent of blistering flame.
When the fire finally cleared, he witnessed a giant red-scaled beast, a living dragon, hovering above them. It scoffed as if annoyed by Do’ir’s resistance, before it spoke in a low, powerful voice.
“Hi los ni Dovah… ” Its voice trailed off, eyes searching up and down the cliff face before finally settling on M’aila, who stood defiantly in front of the trembling fledgling she had saved prior, fists clenched and teeth bared. It cocked its head to the side, as if it were confused at what it was looking at.
Realizing its interest in his grandniece, Do’ir moved in front of the cub and charged a Chain Lightning spell in one hand, the other holding her firmly behind him. The dragon’s lips tightened in cruel amusement, letting out a guttural bellow akin to laughing that echoed thunderously throughout the canyon.
“...Mey kaaz, I have no interest in making a meal of one so… mal. Far too little meat for the effort.” The red dragon dropped down with a loud thud on the nearest outcropping and licked its teeth excitedly. “For you, however…”
“M’aila, run.”
“But–!”
“Now! ”
The cub finally conceded and scrambled away with her new pet in her arms as Do’ir released a fistful of magical lighting loose into the dragon’s gaping maw. This only served to slow the beast’s attack slightly, but it was just enough to allow Do’ir to roll out of the way. Quick on his feet, Do’ir cast Fiery Grip, launching a flaming magical chain that wrapped around the beast's mouth and neck, before yanking downward with all his strength. Surprised by the rare magical attack, the dragon’s head slammed into the solid rock below it, stunning it long enough for Do’ir to begin retreating backwards to escape the disadvantageous canyon cliffs. Just as he reached the peak crest of the canyon wall, the dragon recovered from shock and leapt up into the air to give chase with a snarl.
Before Do’ir could begin to run towards his mount, where M’aila waited anxiously by the road, he was snatched up by the talons of the red dragon and lifted into the air. In its arrogance of assured victory, the beast lifted Do’ir to eye level to taunt his prey.
“I recognize the so-called ‘Dovah magics’, sahlo fiik of our sahrot Thu’um, used by the pahlok joorre who name themselves Dovahkriid. Know this: I have devoured legions of your kind, and you shall be no different.” With a look of sadistic pleasure, the dragon began to squeeze its grip slowly, agonizingly crushing Do’ir’s elderly body. Closing his eyes, he resigned to his fate, uttering a silent prayer to the Spirits that M’aila had escaped to safety.
His prayer was quickly answered, though not as he wished.
Storm clouds and violent gusts of wind howled above and around them, much to the dragon’s audible confusion. Distracted, its iron-like grip lessened, and Do’ir reopened his eyes. What he saw made him feel a paradox of emotions: proud, disappointed, confident, and fearful.
“Leave him alone!” The young cub roared in challenge with both of her clawed fists raised in the sky, brilliant amber eyes filled with determination and anger, raw magicka sparking off and around her rust-gold and black fur. At such a young age, the little Mane was the center of a magical lightshow that would put the greatest of battlemages to shame.
“Nii nis kos... Dovahkiin…?” The dragon uttered in fear and awe, before being immediately struck from the sky with the largest bolt of lightning Do’ir had ever witnessed. Instantly, he was flung violently from the beast’s claws, receiving only a fraction of the attack’s energy imparted into him as he tumbled and rolled to the ground. At the same time, the young cub collapsed like a puppet cut from its strings, the immense magicka output too much for her body to handle.
As soon as it came, the magical storm dissipated, leaving the dragon and Suthay Khajiit reeling on the ground in pain. Do’ir, born under the sign of the Atronach, recovered much faster than the dragon, mainly having absorbed the magical attack instead of being harmed. With little time to waste, he dragged himself up to his feet and drew both of his Akaviri hudiedao, intending to finish the dragon while it was weak and grounded.
The dragon tried to react, but it lifted its head too late, unable to defend itself when Do’ir plunged both swords directly into its right eyesocket. The doomed beast roared in pain and defiance, but could do nothing as the Khajiiti warrior repeatedly kicked the swords deeper into its skull. Only until the dragon stilled and the weapons deep inside did Do’ir stop, stumbling off the dead creature’s head, totally exhausted.
He lied on the ground, arms and legs sprawled wide next to the enormous corpse of the beast he had trained his whole life to hunt, taking in a strange form of morbid joy and fulfillment. After a brief moment of rest, Do’ir shuffled back to his feet, only to immediately stumble back onto his butt at a sudden flare of heat radiating from the dragon. To his confusion and amazement, Do’ir watched as its scales and flesh burned away, leaving only its smoldering bones underneath (as well as his swords, deep in its cranial cavity). Infused with what he could only assume was its soul, dozens of strands of glowing energy swirled away from it and past him, all culminating into the unconscious body of his grandniece, M’aila.
Do’ir easily put the pieces together: the dragon’s innate fixation on her, its fear in the face of her attack, calling her ‘Dovahkiin’, and the absorption of its soul upon its death. All were textbook signs of the legendary warriors blessed with the soul and blood of the dragons, the Dragonborn. He knew she was destined to have an important impact on Tamriel, after all, she was born of the Mane furstock. But dragonborn?
His mind raced at the implications of his grandniece’s blessed nature, struggling to remember pieces of some old prophecy that nagged at the back of his mind. Years without access to the Blades’ vast libraries of dragon-related knowledge had eroded the finer details, relics from his days studying under Loremaster Esbern before his reassignment to ‘field work’ in his homeland.
Perhaps this one should reach out to Lucius, see if some of Cloud Ruler Temple’s archives had been saved after all…
The sound of M’aila shifting awake brought Do’ir out of his musing, and after quickly retrieving his still-warm short swords, he jogged over to the brave cub to check her for injury, praise her magical ability, and scold her for disobeying his orders and risking her life.
____________________
Late into the evening, the two khajiit plus fledgling gryphon, which M’aila kept hidden in her cloak from prying eyes, made it back to the city of Rimmen mostly unharmed (she had minor symptoms of magicka fatigue, an astonishingly impressive feat for a mage as young as herself). All along the way, the energetic cub had bombarded Do’ir with questions and exaggerated retellings of “the most exciting day of her life”, which he found to be an apt yet overtly positive recounting of what was easily his scariest, next to the times he had almost been captured during the Great War.
Once they were close to the outer walls and past the sugarcane flats, he made her drop the subject, fearing that the story of a dragon attack would cause panic, or worse, attract a certain elven organization’s attention. Do’ir had already spotted several of the poorly hidden black-robed agents hiding in alleyways and market stalls only minutes into the city, who seemed concerningly interested in himself and the young princess. While the dragon attack and his grandniece’s blessed nature took precedence in his report to the queen, he filed the unusually high presence of the Altmeri spies to the back of his mind.
After climbing the steps to the entrance of Rimmen Palace, Do’ir dismounted his horse into the hands of a guard who waited patiently to lead it away, carefully letting M’aila down to avoid exposing the frankly dangerous creature she hid underneath her clothes (explaining why he let M’aila keep a gryphon of all things to his niece was going to be fun.) Although not a common choice in Elsweyr, where senche-cats are the most popular of mounts, Do’ir loved his Midnight Steed dearly, which he named Jet after the gemstone for her inky black color and how she could sprint in bursts of great speed, as if throwing herself forward. The mare had served him well in the later years of the Great War, being a gift from an old friend in the Imperial Legion.
Watching the cub greet the palace guards as if they were her best friends, he couldn’t help but see the similarities she had with her mother. Mentally, they were both kind, fair, and fiercely protective of those they loved. Physically, they could have been clones despite being different furstocks, though M’aila was already much larger and taller compared to her Tojay-raht mother at the same age. They both had cheetah-like skulls and bodies, digitigrade legs, wavy brown hair, and a rust-gold coat of fur, streaked with dark black stripes and spots like that of the king cheetah pattern. Despite their similarities, M’aila’s round amber eyes and fluffier fur served to enhance her cuteness, while her matriarch had blood red irises and a sleek, efficient frame that evoked the image of a perfect hunter.
Speaking of her mother, the Queen of Rimmen and the Kingdom of Anequina, Ashnhana immediately noticed the shifting bundle of feathers underneath M’aila’s robes from across the room as soon as they walked into the hall of the throneroom. Bored of hiding it, M’aila happily revealed the dangerous creature in front of her mother, as well as every other advisor and servant present.
The Suthay mercenary cringed at the sudden silence that enveloped the throneroom, each and every person in the room staring at the Mane cub with slackened jaws and faces varying between fear, concern, and disbelief. If only they knew this was the least strange thing to have come of their trip, Do’ir thought silently as he braced himself for the incoming storm from his very visibly angry niece.
“...Do’ir. What is that? ”
“It's a fledg–” M’aila was quick to respond cheerily, but Ashnhana cut her off with thinly veiled fury.
“This one asked your granduncle, M’aila.” Ashnhana’s piercing red eyes shifted back to Do’ir, sending a chill down his spine.
“Do’ir thinks this conversation would best be in private…” Unamused, the Tojay-raht queen pursed her lips for a moment before standing from her throne and closing the distance between them and herself. Ignoring Do’ir for the moment, she bent down and swept M’aila up into a big surprise hug, carrying her into the royal study while letting out a deep calming breath as the cub squirmed and squawked in her arms.
Already so loyal to M’aila, the white and blue gryphon hurried to follow her in but instead collided beak-first into closed doors, causing a few of its loose feathers to disperse into the air comically. Do’ir, who had also just had the doors slammed in his face, let out a sympathetic chuckle and reopened them for it, stepping aside for the cat-bird to enter first. The small winged creature tilted its head for a moment before it let out a pleased-sounding chirp and ran into the room to find the cub that imprinted on it. As he followed after it, Do’ir arrived just in time for the cub to partially break free from her mother’s grasp to breathe and complain.
“Moooom, M’aila is a big Khajiit now, she doesn’t need hugs or to be carried!” Already looking calmer with her only child safe in her arms, Ashnhana released her and smiled amusedly. “Oh, is that so? Tell Ashnhana, why is M’aila so grown that she can’t take hugs from her own mother?”
“This one helped take down a dragon! It was big, red, and really mean, too!” Clearly not believing her, Ashnhana looked more entertained than concerned by M’aila’s claim.
“A dragon? Are you sure you didn’t see a–”
“<It’s true.>” Do’ir’s interjection in Akaviri cut Ashnhana’s sentence short and caused her face to freeze in place. Slowly, her eyes scanned back to Do’ir, her expression of amused disbelief replaced with concern and surprise. Taking her silence as an invitation to continue, he locked the doors behind him and spoke again in a soft, quiet voice.
“<M’aila spotted a destroyed gryphon nest a little ways off the road to Blackwood, on an outcropping inside the canyon. Although this one tried to stop her, she approached anyway when she saw an injured hatchling. It was then that this one noticed the signs of attack on some lower outcroppings, before being attacked ourselves by a real, living dragon.>” While M’aila sat down to play with her new pet, ignorant to the meaning of Do’ir’s words in the Akaviri language, Ashnhana’s eyes widened like saucers in response.
“<After its initial attack, it spoke to this one in a mix of Draconic and Cyrodilic, mostly just to taunt and later insult Do’ir. After getting M’aila to safety, this one did battle with the creature and lost, at its mercy within its claws. Only once the cub returned and saved this one with a powerful strike of lightning from magical clouds –an unrefined cast of Unbounded Storms, perhaps– was Do’ir freed. Using Khajiit’s swords, this one killed the dragon through its eye and–>”
“<You let M’aila put herself in danger?! Exhaust herself using spells she even shouldn’t know, fighting against a dragon, no less?!>” M’aila’s ears perked up at the harsh tone and hiss of her mother’s voice, but otherwise kept playing with the hatchling gryphon, tossing a ball back and forth using Telekinesis.
“<It wasn’t like that! Do’ir made it very clear to M’aila to run, but she returned to save this one’s hide anyway. If it weren’t for her amazing intervention, this one would not be having this conversation!>” Ashnhana didn’t look convinced with his excuse, but otherwise let him continue with his account of the events.
“<Anyway, like Khajiit was saying, this one killed the dragon through its eye. After it was dead, the body began to burn up, leaving only its bones.>” Ashnhana flashed a dubious face. “<The strangest and most important part is that M’aila, unconscious from magicka overuse, absorbed its soul!>”
“<Its… soul? That would mean she is–>”
“<Dragonborn.>” Do’ir finished the sentence for her, letting the silence hang between them for a second time. They both glanced at the cub in question, who was giggling and rolling on the ground with the gryphon, play-fighting like most cubs do with their own siblings.
Appearing deeply troubled, Ashnhana grasped the amulet around her neck, a far-off look in her eyes. After a minute of visible conflict on her face, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, muttering a silent prayer under her breath. When she reopened her eyes, they glowed a fiery azure, a stark sign of Azurah’s blessing. As a devout follower of Azurah and proponent of her worship in Northern Elsweyr, the Queen of Rimmen had allegedly good favor with the Daedric Prince of Dusk and Dawn, allowing her to occasionally call upon the gift of foresight. Do’ir did not judge his niece for her choice of worship, but he found Daedra worship fickle and dangerous, even with one as supposedly benevolent as Azurah.
Do’ir waited patiently for Ashnhana’s vision to clear, prepared to catch her if she collapsed; peering into the realm of Moonshadow tended to wreak havoc on the mortal mind, blessed by Azurah herself or not. As he predicted, Ashnhana went limp into his ready arms as soon as the color faded from her eyes, shivering and murmuring nonsense to herself. M’aila, who wasn’t paying attention to them until that moment, cried out and scrambled to heal her mother with Helping Hands.
“Mom! Momma, are you ok?!” Without a clear response from her mother, M’aila laboriously poured healing magic into her whilst whimpering pitifully, even as she began to pant and burn with a fever as a result. As soon as Ashnhana was able to stand on her own, Do’ir quickly grabbed M’aila’s hands and stopped her from expending any more magicka with Calm. The determination that the cub possessed was admirable, but it seemed to come at the expense of her own health. Do’ir could already see the signs of extreme magicka fatigue setting in, manifested in the physical symptoms of a severe cold.
Ashnhana shook her head rapidly from side to side before blinking away the temporary haze from her eyes, finally recovered from the intense effects of Moonshadow’s ‘beauty’ (Do’ir doubted highly that such a thing could induce blindness and mental distress, far more likely being the result of foul Daedric magics.) Noticing the poor state of her child, she immediately swept her cub back into her arms, though M’aila didn’t complain this time.
“Oh, sweet ma’khajiit, don’t ever do that again! You could hurt yourself using your magic like this!” M’aila didn’t respond; instead, she sobbed softly into her chest as her mother gently rocked her back and forth while singing until she fell asleep. It was moments like this that reminded Do’ir how old M’aila truly was, despite her unnaturally mature intelligence and behavior.
“It’s in her nature, Ashnhana; she can’t help but help.”
“Not if it gets her hurt or worse…”
“This one wonders who she got that from, hmm?”
The Tojay-raht’s lips twitched upwards for a moment, but fell just as quickly. Do’ir was about to ask what was wrong, knowing it likely had to do with whatever she saw, but never got the chance when the door to the study began to pound panickedly, immediately waking the sickly cub back up. Before Do’ir could check or even ask who was banging on the door, the lock was broken with the tip of a sword, and two palace guards stumbled through.
Furious with a crying child in her arms, Ashnhana stepped forward with a deep scowl that could have paralyzed even the most confident of assassins with fear.
“What is the meaning of this?! Explain yourselves, now!” Too shaken from whatever they had seen to care, one of the guards stepped forward and hurriedly explained himself.
“I-It’s the Thalmor, your majesty! They’re pounding on the front door and demanding to see the princess!” Both Do’ir’s and Ashnhana’s faces dropped in horror at the sudden development.
If the Thalmor are here for her specifically…
“They must have seen, this one can’t think of any other reason they’d want her!”
“...Maybe, but either way, she could be in great danger.” Ashnhana turned to look at Do’ir, eyes dilated and ears pinned involuntarily, yet her face held a steady, practiced calm she always assumed in stressful situations.
“Take her down into the palace recesses and await this one’s return. If Khajiit doesn't after a few minutes, escape the city and take her north, as far as you can.” Do’ir tasted bile come up into his mouth; the tone of the words she spoke was like that of a soldier who knew he was to die. He also recognized how oddly specific her request was and suspected it had to do with her recent visions.
“North… why north?”
“The Spirits have plans for her, and they will do anything to ensure she ends up where she is destined to be…”
“This one doesn’t understand, what is it sh–?”
“There is little time; let this one speak to her child.” The Suthay immediately shut up, knowing better than to interrupt what very well could be her final moments with her child. M’aila, who had been listening ever since she was woken back up, stifled her crying and looked up at her mother with the most heartbreaking kitten-eyes Do’ir had ever seen.
“Mama, a-are you *sniff* leaving…?” Ashnhana winced, her composure cracking at the seams.
“Yes… Mama is sorry, little one. If this one doesn’t come back, you must know she loves you more than anything else in this world.” Ever the intelligent cub, M’aila quickly realized the subtext of her mother's words and began to break down.
“No… no, please don’t go! Please don’t leave this one, mama!” When the cub started to thrash and sob wildly, Ashnhana cast Pacify, which was surprisingly only enough to slow her down rather than stop her.
“Listen to Ashnhana…” With a calmer mind, M’aila stopped fighting her and looked back up as her mother removed the Duskstone necklace from her neck. “Wherever you go, Mama will always be there with you, as long as you have this. It has served this one well, and now it is yours.” Ashnhana gently put the amulet on her daughter, fastening the clasp about the back of her neck.
Ashnhana looked down solemnly, her illusion of calm broken completely, replaced by a whirlwind of emotion. “M’aila… you have the kindest soul Ashnhana has ever known. Please, promise this one you will never lose that, no matter what happens?” She was just barely able to croak out the last few words before losing her voice.
Her child blinked at the question, looking torn between distraught at the situation and mirthful with the simple, strange question.
“This one promises, mama.”
“Good… good. That is all this one could ever ask of you, M’aila.”
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Ashnhana watched with a heavy heart as her only child was carried away from her, the first of many hardships that the Spirits felt necessary to inflict on her young cub. It wasn’t fair; why her child, why now? Why must she sacrifice her firstborn for the First Cat’s own? Azurah, a literal Daedric Prince, had never asked for anything beyond her love and fealty, and yet the Spirits whom so many venerate demanded everything and more.
Just as she returned to her throne and steeled herself from her spiraling thoughts, the main entrance to her throneroom imploded inwards in a violent conflagration, quickly dissipating as magical fire often does. The two guards who warned of the intruders’ approach lifted their crescent-shaped glaives, prepared to defend their queen with their lives. Maintaining her image of composed royalty, Ashnhana simply waited on her throne, outwardly unfazed by the blatant violations of the treaties between the Kingdom of Anequina and the Third Aldmeri Dominion, as little as they meant anyway.
Several Thalmor agents flooded the hall, seven in number, as well as the First Emissary of the Thalmor embassy in Rimmen, Gaad-dar. The traitorous Ohmes-raht forsook his lineage and instead rose through the ranks of the Thalmor, the very elves that subjugated her people while pretending to be their saviors. It took great willpower for her not to spit on the ground in his presence, though she knew she needed to distract him as long as she could.
“My, what a warm welcome! I knock and knock, and what do I get in return? Locked gates and spears pointed in my face!”
“You’re not welcome here anymore, Gaad-dar. Not after what you did to our family… this one’s husband!” Ashnhana hissed the last words out like a curse, heavy with grief that never fully healed.
“You can’t prove I was involved, and you know it; besides, even if I were, nothing would happen anyway. You are but a mere puppet to the Dominion, a pretty face to keep the dissonants happy. You don’t have true power, not like I do.”
The Queen remained silent, knowing deep down it was true. No matter how much she pushed for Anequina’s freedom, it would never amount to anything more than her death and replacement by a more like-minded regent for the Thalmor, maybe even Gaad-dar if the Spirits continued with their sick sense of humor.
“But I’m not here to rub it in your little whiskered face, I’ve come to visit that kitten of yours… Meal, was it?”
“M’aila. ” She growled the name out, falling for the bait despite knowing fully well he learned everything he could about her if he was here looking for her child.
“Right, that. Say, I don’t see her anywhere… I sure hope you wouldn’t keep my own family from me, would you?” He jerked his head slightly, signaling for the three foremost of his agents to fan out, bust down doors, and invade each room of the palace as the rest stepped up from behind their commander.
Knowing she hadn’t much time left now, Ashnhana tried redirecting the interrogation, hoping to stall him just a little longer. “You have no family anymore, you made that very clear last time you were here.”
Her brother narrowed his eyes, their feline nature made apparent for a moment despite his best efforts to look elven instead. “Be as it may, I have good information that implicates your cub as an agent of the Blades, that and the old man.”
If she had any doubts that he knew about the incident on the road to Blackwood, they were extinguished immediately. Only an ignorant fool such as himself would believe that killing a dragon was only possible by a member of the Blades, even if it was partially true in this instance. “How could she possibly be an agent at six years of age, from an order that your kind wiped out?”
“Mmmm, it is troubling, isn’t it? In fact, for one so young to be radicalized into a terrorist organization, without her mother knowing? Very unlikely, I’d say.” With his intent clear, she knew the only way to keep her daughter safe long enough to escape was to fight him, though she already planned on it anyway.
“If you think this one will just let you destroy her family a second time, you are a greater fool than Ashnhana remembers.”
“Is that a threat I hear, little sister?” The Thalmor agents behind him tensed, each of them equipping their weapons or charging spells in their hands in anticipation of a fight.
Instead of giving a verbal response, she rose from her throne and drew a curved silver blade, shaped in the form of a crescent moon. She raised the sickle with a quick prayer to Azurah, and it began to glow a brilliant blue along the runes and crystal embedded at the base of the blade. The two guards next to her stepped aside, choosing their targets while leaving Gaad-dar to their queen.
“Still the same deranged cultist, I see? I will take pleasure in showing that your faith in that wretched Daedra is misplaced.”
“We shall see…”
Gaad’dar drew two eleven daggers and lunged forward at Ashnhana, though she expertly blocked his strikes with her own blade. The sounds of the clashing of blades and magic filled the hall, with the guards initially holding their own despite being outnumbered two-to-one by the Thalmor aggressors. The Queen and First Emissary exchanged blows several times, with neither landing a hit.
“Where is she?! Tell me, and you will be spared!” Ashnhana didn't consider his proposal for even a second, rejecting the idea even without knowing it was a lie.
“You will never find her, not until she returns to take back what’s rightfully hers!”
The Ohmes-raht roared at his sister’s defiance, going into a frenzy of rabid attacks that she had a hard time keeping up with, having only one blade of her own. Eventually, her tight defense slipped, and a dagger plunged into her unarmored chest, before being violently ripped back out by her bastard of a brother. At the same time, one of her guards fell to a well-placed bolt of Chain Lightning, and the other was quickly swarmed and killed shortly after.
Ashnhana began to bleed out as she collapsed to her knees, though she still defiantly stood upright despite the rapidly increasing dizziness and cold she felt.
“Any last words, your majesty? ” Ashnhana only smiled through the pain and mustered the strength to speak one last time.
“...Azurah will have her judgement, in time. It is the fate of all her Khajiit, even you…”
Bristling at her words, he snarled and ruthlessly aimed his dagger at her neck. However, just as the blade reached her fur, a pillar of azure light exploded upwards, temporarily blinding everyone in the room. When his vision cleared, her body was gone, only her bloodied royal cloak as evidence she was ever there.
The Thalmor Khajiit kicked the cloak, confused and wary of what kind of trick his sister could have pulled. Before he could inspect further, the three agents who were sent out returned, bringing bad news for the First Emissary.
"Sir, we've searched everywhere; neither of them are here. They must have escaped through the palace sewers when she confronted you..."
Gaad-dar looked back down at the bloodied heap that was his sister, blood boiling. Even in death, Ashnhana still managed to find a way to win against him, just as it always has been.
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M’aila gasped as the amulet around her neck suddenly shook and glowed. Looking down, she carefully took her mother’s gift into her small paws and was immediately enveloped by a sense of warmth, like one mama’s favorite smothering hugs.
She expected the absence of her mom to send her crying once again, but the tears never came, even as Do’ir hurriedly corralled her and her new pet out of the palace recesses and through the smelly sewers without mama.
Even as they rode away on a cart pulled by Do’ir’s pretty black horse, away from everything she had ever known, she kept a soft smile on her face. As the beautiful tan walls and water-bridges of Rimmen faded into the distance, the warm presence on her chest never faded, never faltered in its embrace. M’aila truly believed at that moment that her mother was right, that she really was somehow still with her even now.
Falling asleep to the gentle rocking of the carriage, she had dreamt up a world beyond her wildest imagination; distant lands and stars she had never seen, sprawling cities of glass and flying metal beasts, blocky and organically smooth ships that crossed the stars, terrifying and awe-inspiring aliens who spewed blue and green fire from their hands, and giant green knights that fought against all odds and inspired hope in those they defended.
End of Chapter One
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Notes:
Dragonic Translations:
Hi (You), Los (is/are/am), Ni (not/no), Dovah (dragon)
Mey (fool/foolery), Kaaz (cat/khajiit)
Mal (little/small/short)
Sahlo (weak/ineffective/poor), Fiik (mirror/imitation)
Sahrot (mighty/great), Thu’um (dragon shout)
Pahlok (arrogant), Joorre (mortals, plural of Joor)
Dovahkriid (dragonslayer)
Nii (it), Nis (can't/cannot), Kos (to be, state of 'being'), Dovahkiin (dragonborn)Ta’agra Translations:
Dras'kay, trevan - Hello, friend (formal greeting)
Ma'khajiit - Infant/baby (specifically Khajiit)All translations/words in Dragonic and Ta’agra were sourced from Taagra.com and Thuum.org Go check it out, it’s pretty cool ;)
For anyone curious to how I plan to worldbuild the rest of the fic (aka Skyrim).I used a mix of the ESO North Elsweyr map, the quests that take place there, and Rimmen concept art for my imagining of Anequina and the city of Rimmen. Distances within this fic will be slightly unrealistic, closer to the gamified version than what could be assumed in real life to ensure things don’t move too slowly. However, I will still try to protract said distances and the sizes of certain locations to better fit a fuller and more ‘realistic’ setting.
For example, I plan on having the distance between Riverwood and Whiterun be closer to a half or third day's travel on foot vs less than five minutes in-game, or each major city having more than 30 people and like 15 buildings.