Festive
Lord Wraith
Roman
Spoopy Scary
BlazingBark
Skai
Lemons
Nemaisare
ColdAtlas
Damycles
White Rabbit.
a Whirling Dervish through Stormy Weather...
Late afternoon,
Alik’r Desert, Hammerfell
In a quiet spot a few yards from the centre of the oasis, was a plain looking tent. A beige block in amongst a vibrant rainbow of colour. It stuck out like a sore thumb for that very reason, and just as well it did. It was the tent where the Redguard healers were tending to the wounded.
Also sticking out like a sore thumb, was a Breton woman - her tiny frame swamped in a mustard tunic. There was a moss green head scarf covering her hair, but the very tip of her braid peaked out in the middle of her back. Bright, ashen blonde tied off with a leather strap. Her sapphirine eyes lit up her face like two jewels. These clothes were not her colours, but she had been gifted them from the tribes women, and she had graciously accepted them without a fuss. Over the top of the tunic was a long linen apron - already smudged with sweat, blood, and various other fluids from her patients.
In the doorway of the tent, stood a very tall man who was standing above the rest of the patients as they queued. He raised the apple that had been in his hand to his lips, and took a huge bite, the crunch tearing through the painful silence of concentration that lingered in the tent. He’d been able to trim his beard and his hair, he had washed himself, and the fresh air in his lungs had brought colour back to him in spades. “Hey blondie, think you can take a break yet?” he mumbled with a chunk of apple shoved into his cheek.
“I have work to do Fjolte…” she said quietly, turning her head to look over at the Nord as he leaned against the tent pole at the entrance.
“Fourth apple I’ve eaten just now, by Kyne it’s good to eat real food…” he remarked with an easy smile as he moved into the tent. “Feel the fresh air out there-” Fjolte inhaled sharply, as if to demonstrate his happiness at being out of an underground shithole, but suddenly he found himself gagging - a rotten stench filled his lung, “great Gods of nowhere, what is that smell?” he wheezed out, a cough followed.
“This gentleman has an infection in his leg, I’m cleaning it… That’s the smell…” Raelynn responded dryly, giving Fjolte a look of disapproval for his lack of tact. “I suppose you’re right. I should stop… The women have been trying to get me to leave for the past couple of hours… Let me finish dressing this limb, I’ll meet you outside.”
Fjolte nodded, and gave the Breton a thumbs up as he continued to hold his breath. He scarpered quickly from the tent after that.
There was so much going on, and while normally he would be the first to dive in and join them, there was something on his mind and something wasn’t quite sitting right with him. He was incredibly grateful to be free from the prison, grateful once again to Raelynn. His faith and belief that they were fated to meet again had only been strengthened when he had heard of her troubles. She had explained to him in the prison that she had been struggling to use magic, of all things…
Something told him the warm feeling that had followed his freedom was about to freeze over as he spotted Daro’Vasora, the Khajiit who had been less than pleased to see him. Suddenly, Fjolte felt rather sheepish and his smile diminished - fearing that he may be scolded by her for looking so goddamned smug as he sat there basking on his little rock.
She caught sight of him and had half a mind to pretend she didn’t see him, but that would have been dishonest, and her misgivings were more from a much less experienced time where she made questionable and rash choices, and the last thing she wanted was to hear him be an insufferable, gloating ass. Still, he’d endured a lot, and she knew she was being irrationally spiteful. With a resigned sigh, she approached the Nord.
“I didn’t expect to see you again.” Daro’Vasora observed, glancing him over. “You look like you’ve bounded back from your ordeal rather well.”
Fjolte gave a half smile in the Khajiit’s direction, scratching the back of his neck to occupy his hands somewhat. “Can’t say I ever expected to see you either,” he began with a nervous laugh. “Guess our world is just a lot smaller than we thought, that or Kyne blew us back together for a reason you know.” He took another bite from the apple, nodding in Sora’s direction. “I don’t need much. Just fresh air, food, and friends at my side... Feel a bit stiff here and there but that’ll fix itself in time. There are folk here far more wounded than me.”
At the mention of his body feeling stiff, he turned from side to side in a gentle stretch, groaning as he felt the muscles pull. “How’ve you been? Looks to me like you’ve picked up more than a few misfits, stragglers, and disciples on your travels...”
Inwardly, she groaned. She did not care for the implication that they were fated to run into one another again, especially with his flippant flirting and sexuality. Idly, she remembered what she had asked Latro earlier, Do you believe in fate? Apparently, it was quite real, and not at all what you’d hope for.
His latter line of questioning, she decided, was much more her speed. “It’s been a tough road. An expedition turned invasion, a lot of loss and hardship, but there’s been good, too.” She said, thinking of moments like her falling in love with Latro, her friendship with Judena, the spring with Raelynn, the party with everyone. Those who she travelled with brought warmth to her heart, and she knew that they were more than just companions. “Despite how impossible it’s seemed at times, I care about these people, and they care about me. We’re all just trying to get by and do the right thing, you know? Life just doesn’t stop because of a war.” she replied wistfully, turning to look at him. “What were you doing in Hammerfell?” she asked, deciding to sit down next to him.
“Such is wartime…” he offered, raising a hand as if there were a glass in it to the sky. “To those we lost…” His hand fell back to his lap after a moment of pensive thought. He took in a deep breath, and found himself peering off at the horizon. “Well my friend, I wasn’t actually in Hammerfell. I got ambushed in the mountains about a month past. Was with a group of good men and women, we were just trailing the winding paths… Looking for a cave and a tomb - you know me,” he winked in her direction, his smile dazzling, “guess we pissed off the wrong patrolmen. Had a scuffle, I ended up in the back of a cart as a prisoner and got shipped out to Hammerfell... But don’t worry, I sure showed a few of them what for all right, couple of new scars for the trouble too...”
Fjolte rubbed at his chin, his free hand motioning and waving with his story. He was engaged in the tale he was telling, as if it would be the last thing he ever told anybody. “So, I don’t know what happened to my friends, I’m almost certain a few of them were killed. I guess that makes me somewhat lucky. I got brought to that shithole prison, wasn’t always on death row. I think I just annoyed the right people at the right time... That day that they took me down there though, I did manage to knock seven shades of shit out of a couple of the guards. I did not go quietly I assure you… It took about seven of them to get me down there.”
“I’m sorry for what happened.” Daro’Vasora said sincerely with a heavy sigh. Yet another life she was responsible for destroying through her ignorance, along with Fjolte’s companions. She brought her knees up to her chest, hugging them tight against her. “We’ve lost people along the way, as well. Part of the reason I’m doing this is for their sake, so their loss doesn’t have to be in vain, so it all means something in the end.” she shook her head ruefully. “We were both prisoners, at least we have that in common. My accomodations were a bit more posh, however. None of your companions were brought to the prison with you?”
The Nord laughed quietly at her words, “You sound as though you're carrying this whole thing on your shoulders; don't be sorry for me. What happened brought me here, didn't it?” he grinned again, tilting his head back to once again gaze at the endless sky above. “My friends will be fine, I'm keen to get back to Skyrim and kick their arses for not being the ones to rescue me though, y’know?” He felt sorry to hear that Sora had lost people too, and there were no words he could offer her that she wouldn't have already heard. He settled for placing a hand on her shoulder.
Fjolte didn’t realize how accurate that observation was. Daro’Vasora wrapped her arms tighter about her leg and resisted the impulse to flinch when he placed a hand on her shoulder. “Might be that they’re waiting on you to rescue them. You always seemed to have a flair for the dramatic.” she muttered.
It was then that he saw Raelynn exiting the tent. He was grateful she had ditched the apron. As she headed over, he watched as she removed the headscarf and shook out her hair from inside. She looked like herself again. He gave her a wave, and in case she didn't see that, he placed two fingers in his mouth and blew hard - a loud, piercing whistle rang out that caught the attention of just about everyone around them.
The Breton sighed. He was already becoming the centre of attention around here. As she wandered over, she caught a glimpse of Daro'Vasora sat by him, and offered her a warm smile before she did him. “Daro'Vasora, it's good to see you,” she said softly, bowing her head ever so in the Khajiit's direction.
The whistle made Daro’Vasora’s ears recoil back from the sudden sharp sound, her eye twitching. When she saw Raelynn approach, her disposition shifted to something warmer and less guarded. She smiled, placing her hand over a fist and returning the bow. “Likewise, Raelynn. Today felt right; we needed a win.” her smile faded somewhat. “Are you well? You’ve looked a bit distraught when we met up again and I never had the chance to talk to you.”
“I’m fine. I’ve been assisting the healers since we arrived, cleaning out infections and dressing is quite draining.. Still, without magic...” she declared with an affable smile, hiding the truth of the matter. “It’s a relief to have Alim back.” She concluded, not wishing for the Khajiit to press any further.
It wasn’t a talk for now, but Daro’Vasora could see the pain and hesitation in Raelynn’s eyes; later, when Fjolte wasn’t around. She reached out a hand for Raelynn to join her. “You may have lost your magic, but you’ve never lost your heart, Raelynn. Please, sit. Rest.” she said with a welcoming smile. “And yes, my heart sang to see Alim and even Gaius… S’rendarr, I thought he was gone. It gives me hope that maybe we’ll see Balroth again, that things aren’t always as bleak as they seem… there’s hope, I can feel it. The air’s changed, like a breath of spring after a long winter.”
Sometimes Sora rubbed her the wrong way - all her talk of hearts and of goodness. Today was one of those days, instead of being a comfort her words were just a painful itch under her skin. She couldn't be that good of a person. She was helping Gregor with his quest, afterall. She had been there to watch Nblec's soul spill into the Cairn. She had enjoyed it. “Still feels like winter to me,” she said as she took a seat, in a tone as icy as any Skyrim winter could be. She rubbed her forehead, feeling the familiar pinch of a headache beginning behind her eyes now that she was out of the shade of the tent and in the open clearing of the Oasis. The amount of people that were around unnerved her too, she loathed crowds nowadays.
“Cheer up Raelynn…” sighed Fjolte, sensing the frost she was emitting around them. “It's not all bad, we have friends, a place to stay for the night… No immediate peril. You also get to look at my face as much as you want, eh?” The smug demeanour continued as he leaned forwards from his perch, placing a hand on each woman's shoulder now as they sat either side of him. “You think Kyne brought me here to let you be as deflated as a flattened tomato?” he laughed at his own words, Raelynn was not as amused.
“Both of you could stand to lighten up, man. Look at where we are! We're lucky to be here, you both need to just… See the light you know?” He let both of them go and jumped up to his feet, balancing on one foot on the highest point of the rock with a mischievous grin.
“Your forced cheer is about as appealing as a bloated corpse; what's left of you when the body ruptures and the putrid gases escape, I wonder.” Daro'Vasora replied tersely, slipping her piece of bone between her teeth. “I'm suddenly reminded of why I couldn't stand being around you for long, Fjolte; you say these empty platitudes and immediately round off every fucking thing with perversion. There is no depth to you, just an emotionally stunted boy. Grow up.”
“That's where you're wrong, Sora. Nothin’ forced about it. I just escaped from death and got freed from a prison…” Still, her words were biting and he flopped back down onto his rear, choosing to close his trap for the time being… “and honestly I always enjoyed your company - even if the feeling apparently wasn't mutual…” starting now.
“Wait… You know Fjolte too?” asked Raelynn, an eyebrow raising to a spectacularly sharp angle.
The Khajiit sighed, grinding her teeth into the bone. “Yeah. We had an expedition together a few years back, had a third partner that tried to backstab us.” she explained, stretching a single leg out. She stared at him for a moment, deciding to cut him off before he dropped the relevant detail in his irreverent, tactless way. “We stopped him, and you know how he gets. After surviving a few close calls, we fucked, if for no other reason than to get him to shut up for a few minutes.” she grunted, annoyed. Her tail flicked on it's own. “That was about the only time his company had any merit.” she added, throwing more thorns at him to make the corpse pop.
“Keep serving it, Sora… You know I enjoy when your claws come out…” he replied with a wink, as quickly as she had indeed served - he sent it straight back to her with a shit-eating grin for a garnish. She rolled her eyes in response.
Raelynn on the other hand sat with her mouth agape and eyes flitting between the two of them, speechless. Her brows softened and she pursed her lips - utterly confused by the entire thing. “But-” she began, before stopping. “I…” words were failing her, and before she knew it, the Nord’s hand was on her head, fingers drumming over her hair lightly.
“You know what? I’ve got literally anywhere else I could be right now, so I think I’m going to go do that. Have fun catching up with the oaf, Raelynn. Come find me when you’ve got some time.” Daro’Vasora said, standing suddenly and brushing herself off.
Fjolte felt… strange, to say the least. He didn’t want to be a thorn in Sora’s side, but he didn’t appreciate her branding him as an oaf so flippantly. “Heh, alright then. There was me thinking you might want to help me fix our friend’s magical impotence, but go on - off you scamper to anywhere else.” He glanced down to Raelynn who was giving him a narrow-eyed, quizzical look. “I suppose we can do it ourselves, blondie.”
That caught the Khajiit off-guard. “The fuck are you talking about? She asked. “If this is more of your games, I swear…”
“What I do isn’t a game, Sora, it’s my purpose…” he said seriously for once - yet not offended by the Khajiit’s tone and manner. He took from his satchel a pouch and waved it in the air with a smile once again. “Surprised the Dwemer didn’t keep this for themselves. It’s a damned good blend if I do say so myself!”
Raelynn was dubious of it, she knew that Fjolte enjoyed his substances, and practiced meditation to a level that far surpassed her knowledge of the art. She knew what he was hinting towards though. She understood that Fjolte liked to guide people through their own minds using some skills he had picked up and developed on his nomadic journey. “I’ll try it Fjolte, it can’t exactly make anything worse, can it?”
She let the Nord lead her away from the crowds to a shaded spot, and looked over her shoulder to Daro’Vasora - her expression showed trepidation, and her hands trembled. “I’d like you to come, actually…” she admitted quietly, almost ashamed that she was asking such a thing. In that moment she just felt that the Khajiit understood the causes of her pain more than Fjolte did.
Daro’Vasora had her arms crossed, an uncertain visage crossing her countenance. Seeing Raelynn tepid and uncertain, a far cry from her usual confidence and self-assured nature, made Daro’Vasora realize that she was scared and hurting. It couldn’t be too different from her experiences with the Moonpath, could it? She watched Raelynn’s hands shake and knew that she needed a friend, now more than ever.
She wouldn’t abandon her in her time of need. She forced a smile and approached, taking Raelynn’s hands in her own to steady them, to reassure her.
“If it helps you find yourself again, I’ll do whatever it takes. You aren’t alone; I’m in.” Daro’Vasora promised.
The three of them sat around a campfire nestled well under the shade of a hanging rock,it was like a small cubby cave. Fjolte had made a makeshift entrance and privacy screen around them with a blanket thrown over the outside edge of the rock. It only had to be a little dark, but most importantly they were to be confined. Sora and Raelynn sat together with Fjolte adjacent, his legs crossed and his smoking pipe in front of him. He’d placed two cones of incense at either side of the campfire, lighting them to release a strong woody smell into the air from one, and a soft floral from the other. They combined into the smoke of the fire.
From the pouch he took a pinch of the herbs and sprinkled them into the flames. Immediately the flames grew and burned a rich violet, releasing plumes of lilac and blue smoke. As Raelynn inhaled it she began to feel immediately dizzy and hazy, but not in an unpleasant manner at all. After that, he tipped a small tankard of water into the fire strategically. Steam began to rise and combine with the smoke, enhancing the fragrances and increasing the potency of his herbs. That, and it turned up the heat in the makeshift cave tent.
“Hold her hands, Sora, she’ll need your guidance and comfort…” Fjolte said in a low voice as he watched Raelynn’s pupils dilate. He himself was feeling slightly warmed. He got up and walked towards her, taking a long white cloth which he applied to her eyes as a blindfold, tying a soft knot in the back before resuming his seat.
“Breathe Raelynn. In, and out. In, and out… Let your mind guide you… Tell us what you see…” And then he blew more dust at her face, not that she would see it, but she felt it spray her cheeks.
“Hold on…”
It took a while, and more than a few deep breaths until whatever drugs were in the herbs really kicked in, and now that she was in the darkness she felt as though she was falling, there was even wind in her face. Was she falling or being dragged? A burning sensation overtook her wrists, as if something was binding them that way, she knew it wasn’t real. It wasn’t real, was it?
Her breathing quickened, and she began to panic. ”Who is here?” she muttered, squeezing Daro’Vasora’s hand in an intense grip.
“Listen to this one's voice, Ko'Raelynn. Your senses are simply shifted, not gone. Let this one's voice be the path you stay true to what is real and what your mind has conjured. Daro'Vasora is here.” the Khajiit promised, flinching under the crushing grip. She was focused on Raelynn, monitoring her expression, the sweat on her brow. It wasn't unlike her own experiences with Moon Sugar, but this was looking inward rather than reaching across the stars to connect with ancestor spirits.
The effects of the incense filled her nostrils, the feline senses much more acute, and her mind might have wandered into its own channels had she not had years of learning how to focus her mind under the influence of potent stimulants and substances. “What you see cannot harm you; let it wash past you like a wave, flow down the river. Do not resist the flow.” she said soothingly. “Tell this one what you feel, what you see.”
This was no river. But a paved corridor of darkness that she found herself floating down upon, her body felt as light as a feather. The only illumination on the hallway was the the purple haze of smoke pooling through from somewhere, each cloud of it seemed to contain a thunderstorm. Flashes of lightning momentarily gave the room light and she could make out the path. The scene seemed to flash and move before her eyes until Sora spoke and gave the image a feeling of clarity. Raelynn nodded; “I feel… Lost, I feel like I’m being watched.”
A bell rang out and from the darkness, a shape came to her. Holding a weapon at their side that as she focussed on it, appeared to be pouring with blood. With every strobing flash the figure came closer and closer still. She could only make out a pair of piercing blue eyes nin the darkness, harbouring anger. “Get back!” she said aloud with a hard determination in her voice, prompting Fjolte to give another ring of the bell...
Before it could make contact it disappeared in a huge cloud of aquamarine powder, as fine as flour or chalk. Just gone, and the colour stained the walls. In its place was the ghostly outline of her familiar, which began to howl out at her.
“A wolf…” she gasped, releasing grip on Sora’s hand. “I have to keep going,” the Breton remarked.
Daro’Vasora moved her hand gently onto Raelynn’s wrists. The wolf seemed to have a particular meaning to her, a familiar sensation. “Follow it, focus on its cry; let it guide you, no matter what you see.” she said, flashes of images permeating her own mind that she forced to ignore, focusing instead on Raelynn’s face. Nothing else was real; just her.
She could feel Daro’Vasora’s touch, the brushing of her fingertips against the bare flesh of her wrist tingled and kept her anchored to reality, even though the darkest corners of her mind were pulling her in. Sora’s hand was preventing her heart from thundering with the fear of the sensory overload she was experiencing. The next vision that she saw was of another figure, dressed in black and launching a bottle against a wall. She watched as it flew across the air towards the wall until it collided. Making no sound - the contents spraying up the wall.
It wasn’t wine. It was blood and she could smell it - the sharp metallic tang filled her nostrils. There was a feeling that she’d been here before. The figure in the cloak had noticed her too, and slowly… slowly, the head began to turn. The storms that were contained within the smoke flashed out with their threatening lights again. The eyes within the hood were azure and ghostly… The mouth of the creature opened as if to scream, a bright light shining from inside the mouth. “NO!!” Raelynn cried out, panting.
As had happened to already, the second figure disappeared into a thick vermillion haze of powder. As it settled onto the ground, she could make out a path made from the pawprints of her canine. As she continued further through the darkness, it felt as though the conjuration was becoming unstable and Raelynn trembled, her breath shuddering. Everything started to feel colder.
She took another deep breath - she could feel the smoke and steam work it’s way through her throat to her lungs where it sat there and stung. She coughed.
The path became forked before her eyes. Left and right - and darkness in the middle. “I have to choose,” she said, her hands fumbling over Daro’Vasora’s arms. To the left she felt the familiar ice cold that had stained the room where she had healed Gregor. To the right, as she focussed in on it she could hear the same waves from the docks where she had healed Zaveed. “I have to choose who to save again,” she uttered, distressed by the thought of it.
“Your path does not diverge, Raelynn; those are the paths of those you have given or had taken a part of yourself,” Daro’Vasora replied, her tone conciliatory. “You are not bound to either; you feel as if your choices only benefit others, that they own your powers. You belong to no one to yourself; your gifts are yours to give, not for others to take. Your path does not diverge here, Ko’Raelynn; it continues forward as it always has. Step forward, and do not waver. Look for the wolf, listen to it’s cry.”
The mage walked forwards towards the dark - as if to take a leap of faith in its direction. No sooner had she chosen her path, did the other two close off to her, and a doorway appeared, with a light spilling from under it. A warm, golden light.
Fjolte watched the two from behind the curling swirls of steam and smoke that filled the entire atmosphere, lighting up his pipe. He observed the interesting dynamic between them and fought hard to suppress a boyishly smug grin from his lips as their hands touched. He took a long draw, feeling everything fill his mouth and then his lungs. He could see from Raelynn’s composure that she was getting somewhere. That, and the heavy sweat on her brow, neck, and decolletage. Her collarbones glistened with it. The strands of hair that framed her face were all clinging to her, wet. The way she was breathing reminded him of a warrior excited by battle.
“Almost there…” he said softly, sprinkling another pinch of the herbs into the flames. He didn’t want to assault her senses too heavily but he knew that she needed a push to keep going. She needed to be confronted and find her way. He nodded in Daro’Vasora’s direction before taking another drag from his pipe. This time blowing out several neat rings of smoke. “Keep your mind open…”
As more smoke surrounded her, she felt the intensity of that which her mind had conjured grow, and the doorway became spectacularly bright, but behind her she felt a chill run up her spine that terrified her to her core. Another shadow. All she could do was move onwards, too scared to turn back. Her steps were hasty, and she made into what felt like a circular cellar, this one was lit up with blue flames on the walls, but still there was something not right about the room. In the middle of it all, sat the spectral shape of the wolf, expression and posture placid.
The canine form disappeared into smoke, and was replaced by the slender figure again. In the light of the room, she saw that the figure was not a monster at all, but still she was scared and trembling. Raelynn clasped a hand to her chest, gasping sharply with the realisation. “I know who you are…”
“Tell Daro’Vasora what you hear.” The Khajiit instructed gently, the pungent fumes causing her to blink, her own senses starting to feel dulled and confused from the chemicals working their way through her veins.
Raelynn’s voice, haunting and ethereal from behind her. La’Shuni spoke, another ghostly voice overlapping Raelynn’s, vying for attention, pleading.
“Look for the wolf.” The Khajiit instructed, forcing the voices from her head, but her voice sounded like Roux’s. Through the haze in her own mind, she knew that it was going to be harder to tell what was real and what was an illusion.
Her father chided, a sigh in his breath.
“Feel this one’s touch upon your arm, ground yourself. Follow the path that is your own, do not follow those who demand you leave it.” Daro’Vasora said, her voice somewhat more forceful that before on account of her own troubles.
You are here for Raelynn, Daro’Vasora. Do not let yourself fall prey to this. This is not about you, it is about her. she thought, cautioning herself.
“Raelynn,” spoke the figure in a voice that was simply a deathly rasp. The exhalation that followed the word soured the air. The lights dimmed. “You’re afraid,” Raelynn replied. She was afraid too, evidenced by the pounding of her heart as she stared into the burning eyes of the figure. ”You’re angry…” The figure was emanating wisps of energy, glowing in blues and reds - contrasting colours that were ugly together and hard to look at. Releasing a toxicity into the air that Raelynn felt throughout her entire body. She began to shake.
”I know who you are. I know what happened to you... What you were asked to do...” The more that Raelynn spoke and found her voice, the angrier the figure seemed to get. The energy was spiking and the walls of the room began to close in on them.
Fjolte poured more water into the right spot of the campfire allowing the steam to continue to engulf them.
“You had parts of you stolen…” said Raelynn, lifting her hands to look at them, she looked at the scars that were seared into the flesh. “But that is not who you are. You are not what was done to you…” The shape of the wolf materialised in front of her, as if it knew what was to come. To the figure, the words were a challenge, and in slow motion it began to sprint towards the room at Raelynn. Once more its mouth opened, the unnatural light shining out like a beam of destructive force, the Breton stood her ground, the wolf primed its body to strike, but Raelynn waved her hand. “You need not protect me from this,” she said, still bracing herself for what was to happen.
Daro'Vasora hurriedly pulled Raelynn against her. “Do not waver, Ko'Raelynn… this is your moment, what you've been searching for.” she pleaded, clamping her eyes shut.
Her body trembled as she held onto Raelynn tightly. The voices and visions coming strongly now, and her ability to fight was weakening. “The path. Please, do not leave it.” she whispered into Raelynn's ear.
The screaming figure was almost at the point of contact Raelynn, and still she held her ground, coalescing in her hand was the golden light she knew as her own magic. “Raelynn!” She repeated back to it finally, stopping the figure in her tracks. With golden fingers pressed to the chest of the figure before her, and as they did the light enveloped her, stripping back the cloak to reveal in front of the Breton a reflection of herself.
A part of herself that she had buried, that she had not confronted. There was only pain in her eyes. The wolf cried, howling ruefully at the sight. Raelynn pressed her whole hand fully against the chest of this version of herself. “None of this was our… my fault. I did the best I could with what I was dealt.” She said with a finality, and watched as the figure began to fade away in a breeze.
Fjolte was still sat cross legged with his pipe held between his lips. His own eyes were relaxed, and eyelids heavy as he continued to mediate the activity for Raelynn, and apparently Sora now too. He noticed that Raelynn’s hands were glowing with the smallest of small golden wisps, and he smiled.
He gave her some time before he got up and walked to Raelynn with silent footsteps, gently removing the blindfold, “don’t open your eyes just yet… Go slow…” he whispered into her ear, placing his hands then onto her shoulders as if to hold her to the spot - to remind her that there was a tangible, real world outside of whatever graphic trip she had created in her mind. “When you’re ready… it’s time to wake up again…” he whispered into her other ear. All in all, he was incredibly surprised at how well it had worked. He hadn’t expected Raelynn to have been so susceptible to it - at least not enough to access what had been lost to her during her first attempt. Either she knew it had always been there, or something else had been paving the path for her before she ever walked upon it. He was not attuned to the arcane, and even with his knowledge of the mind and of meditation, magic was simply not something that had ever touched him or flowed through him like it did for Raelynn and other mages. In a way, he was jealous of what they could experience.
It came time for Raelynn to open her eyes - and when she did, she saw first that her hands were glowing with gold. She wiggled her fingers, and turned her hands over to look at the backs of them, and the palms too. “I’d let everything else die down before you try to really access it, blondie…” came the voice of Fjolte from behind her. “Remember how it feels again, give it more time.”
Her entire body was fully alert, and the cave was no longer in shadow, but highlighted with purple and pink - in fact everything seemed to be the wrong colour, but that fact did not alarm her. Daro’Vasora was orange and it brought a smile to the Breton’s face, she reached out with a finger to touch her nose. “Sora,” she said in a soft slur, her pupils huge and eyelids drooping.
“Oh boy…” said Fjolte as he sucked air through his teeth. “Maybe I gave you too much after all.”
For Daro'Vasora, the world was on fire.
All around her Imperial City burned, and in her hand was the lexicon with so many doors it could open. Bodies littered the streets, cut down by the Dwemer war machine and massive shadows covered the streets like circling birds of prey, the airships that were the backbone of military might.
Other shadows came swiftly, and suddenly the airships were engulfed in flame and ice, the visage of leathery wings…
Somebody poked her nose.
The Khajiit looked before her and saw La'Shuni standing there, dressed in a green cloak and leather jerkin, her sister's pale grey fur looking so much like their father's, including the jaguar-like spots, but their eyes were the same.
Daro'Vasora was about to ask why she was wearing such a strange outfit when La'Shuni spoke, but her voice was that of Raelynn's, only slurred.
Daro'Vasora screwed her eyes closed and opened them once more, and Raelynn stared at her, glassy-eyed and dopey. Her hands were shrouded in golden light.
The Imperial City faded into the background and Daro'Vasora leaned over and pulled Raelynn into a tight embrace. “Well done, Ko'Raelynn!” the Khajiit exclaimed mirthfully, a wide smile upon her lips. She still felt the effects of the smoke, but with something real to focus on, it swirled dauntingly in her peripherals, vanishing if her eyes tried to focus on it.
“How do you feel?” she asked.
Raelynn was taken aback by the Khajiit’s display of affection, but rolled with it regardless. Her fingers running over Daro’Vasora’s fur. It really was surprisingly soft. She let a relaxed purr roll from her tongue and into Sora’s ear as she did so, feeling her body catch up with all of the motions. “My chest burns…” she commented in a gravelly voice which gave weight to her observation. “My body is still spinning in an opposite direction to my head… and the cave is pink….” she giggled and brought a hand to her mouth daintily.
Fjolte watched on. He was pleased with himself, and the usual smug grin displayed that. “You both took a trip through fire and smoke, down the rabbit hole...” His own voice was slurred too, his eyes carrying the tell-tale signs of someone under the influence. “It’s no Moonpath but it’s about as close as I can create…” he yawned, stretching his huge arms into the air, the flames dying down. “I wonder what the smoke showed you Sora, good things I hope,” he said with a cavalier wink.
The Khajiit’s expression darkened and she looked away. “If it’s all the same, I’d rather not talk about what I saw.” she replied tersely, albeit without malice. “I know what I saw isn’t real, it’s just… things I’ve seen or fear.”
“Nothing to fear but fear itself, Sora…” he said, his tone comforting all of a sudden with a sincere warmth that underpinned it. “Our own mind makes things of wonder and things of great terror… It’s alright to be afraid. I won’t pry any further.” The Nord remarked with an air of finality in his voice, and a gentle nod.
Raelynn watched Sora’s face change before her eyes, and she placed a hand on the Khajiit’s lap. “We can talk about it some other time if you’d like, when it’s not so… raw.”
Daro’Vasora was surprised by the affectionate gesture Raelynn showed, feeling an anxious swelling in her gut as she looked down at the hand and then into Raelynn’s eyes. She listened to their words, feeling somewhat embarrassed that she was being so guarded when Raelynn had asked her to participate in something that made her so vulnerable. She ran a hand across her mane, down the back of her head and resting on the nape of her neck, the points of her claws pressing in somewhat. “I relieved the fall of the Imperial City again, the brutality and death of it all. My sister was there; older, different… but still distinctly her. Before the incense had caused me to fail to see the difference between what is real and what is from my mind, I had heard voices. My father berating me, La’Shuni terrified and calling for me. I heard Zaveed’s taunts…” she said, her voice subdued. She took Raelynn’s hand into her own and looked into the Breton’s eyes. “I recalled what you said to me, in the warehouse. The choice I could never make.”
Raelynn’s back straightened at the mention, and her face glazed over - even under the influence she managed to pull a composure from within to mask her feelings. “I buried it… I buried that feeling.” her eyes flicked from Sora to Fjolte, and back to Sora once more as she smiled at the Khajiit. She knew what the woman was alluding too - she’d even spoken about it with Latro, but to discuss it with Sora would be to make it all too real, and all too easy to step back into the shoes of the same Raelynn who wanted to lie down beside Roux. “But… Please, don’t think on it. I was concussed, I didn’t know what I was saying...”
“Even so, it stuck with me.” The Khajiit replied with a heavy set frown, shaking her head slowly. “It feels wrong to carry guilt or pain from that day, especially in light of what you’d endured, but…” she caught herself, a lump forming in her throat. It wasn’t worth digging up the past, and admitting she still had phantom pains in her arm and could hear Roux’s voice when no one was around wasn’t going to help anyone. She forced herself to smile. “Yeah. That’s right, you were concussed, talking out your ass. Sorry, this is why I didn’t want to say anything. It’s not worth anyone’s time.”
The Breton nodded slowly as Sora spoke, letting her get her words out - even though she could see the Khajiit was struggling. Raelynn placed her free hand atop Sora’s, holding a pause for a moment before she spoke calmly, and eloquently; “it would be rather rude of us to discuss such matters in our present company - and state, might I add…” she chuckled in an airy fashion, as if to make the situation seem more jovial than it was. It seemed to work, Fjolte was sporting a cheesy grin, and didn’t appear to be at all concerned about the undertones of the conversation - and he certainly wasn’t reading between any lines. Raelynn gave Sora a squeeze on the hand, as if to let her know and give reassurance that she wasn’t about to close the door on it just yet, and that it was left ajar for the Khajiit to walk through again, later.
Daro’Vasora nodded with a polite smile, feeling somewhat put on the spot and flushed from her indiscretion. “Look, this was fun and all, but I should go freshen up and clear the head. I think I’ll stick with moonsugar from now on; this shit just isn’t fun.” she barked a laugh, attempting to look sly and far more in control of her situation than she wanted to let on. She stood, shaking the sand off with a shake of the head. “I’m glad it helped you, Raelynn. You deserved a win.” she said with a smile before making her departure.
Raelynn was then left alone with Fjolte, and she felt a sense of strength and accomplishment that she hadn’t for a long time. “Thank you,” she said with sincerity.
“No need to thank me, you did it, not me.” He said with a shrug, playing it down. He didn’t need to laud it over her. He didn’t want to either. “Just be careful, don’t go messing around with magic and the like for a bit, you’re still recovering and coming down. My shit is strong, y’know?”
“I take it you’re going to stay with us for a bit then?” Raelynn asked with a smile, watching the Monk as he rolled his shoulders.
“Course I am! But for now, I’m fucking hungry… I could eat a whole horse…” he laughed from his apparently empty stomach, figuring that the Breton probably wanted a moment alone. He felt awkward about Sora too, but she’d be alright. She was a strong woman. He rose to his feet and gave Raelynn one last wave before he swaggered back off to the centre of the celebrations, singing some Nord drinking song on his way at an obnoxious volume.
Raelynn just sighed, pulling her knees to her chest, she would have to speak with Daro’Vasora again, but for now she was waiting for everything to stop spinning so much.
“Mind over matter after all….”
Also sticking out like a sore thumb, was a Breton woman - her tiny frame swamped in a mustard tunic. There was a moss green head scarf covering her hair, but the very tip of her braid peaked out in the middle of her back. Bright, ashen blonde tied off with a leather strap. Her sapphirine eyes lit up her face like two jewels. These clothes were not her colours, but she had been gifted them from the tribes women, and she had graciously accepted them without a fuss. Over the top of the tunic was a long linen apron - already smudged with sweat, blood, and various other fluids from her patients.
In the doorway of the tent, stood a very tall man who was standing above the rest of the patients as they queued. He raised the apple that had been in his hand to his lips, and took a huge bite, the crunch tearing through the painful silence of concentration that lingered in the tent. He’d been able to trim his beard and his hair, he had washed himself, and the fresh air in his lungs had brought colour back to him in spades. “Hey blondie, think you can take a break yet?” he mumbled with a chunk of apple shoved into his cheek.
“I have work to do Fjolte…” she said quietly, turning her head to look over at the Nord as he leaned against the tent pole at the entrance.
“Fourth apple I’ve eaten just now, by Kyne it’s good to eat real food…” he remarked with an easy smile as he moved into the tent. “Feel the fresh air out there-” Fjolte inhaled sharply, as if to demonstrate his happiness at being out of an underground shithole, but suddenly he found himself gagging - a rotten stench filled his lung, “great Gods of nowhere, what is that smell?” he wheezed out, a cough followed.
“This gentleman has an infection in his leg, I’m cleaning it… That’s the smell…” Raelynn responded dryly, giving Fjolte a look of disapproval for his lack of tact. “I suppose you’re right. I should stop… The women have been trying to get me to leave for the past couple of hours… Let me finish dressing this limb, I’ll meet you outside.”
Fjolte nodded, and gave the Breton a thumbs up as he continued to hold his breath. He scarpered quickly from the tent after that.
There was so much going on, and while normally he would be the first to dive in and join them, there was something on his mind and something wasn’t quite sitting right with him. He was incredibly grateful to be free from the prison, grateful once again to Raelynn. His faith and belief that they were fated to meet again had only been strengthened when he had heard of her troubles. She had explained to him in the prison that she had been struggling to use magic, of all things…
Something told him the warm feeling that had followed his freedom was about to freeze over as he spotted Daro’Vasora, the Khajiit who had been less than pleased to see him. Suddenly, Fjolte felt rather sheepish and his smile diminished - fearing that he may be scolded by her for looking so goddamned smug as he sat there basking on his little rock.
She caught sight of him and had half a mind to pretend she didn’t see him, but that would have been dishonest, and her misgivings were more from a much less experienced time where she made questionable and rash choices, and the last thing she wanted was to hear him be an insufferable, gloating ass. Still, he’d endured a lot, and she knew she was being irrationally spiteful. With a resigned sigh, she approached the Nord.
“I didn’t expect to see you again.” Daro’Vasora observed, glancing him over. “You look like you’ve bounded back from your ordeal rather well.”
Fjolte gave a half smile in the Khajiit’s direction, scratching the back of his neck to occupy his hands somewhat. “Can’t say I ever expected to see you either,” he began with a nervous laugh. “Guess our world is just a lot smaller than we thought, that or Kyne blew us back together for a reason you know.” He took another bite from the apple, nodding in Sora’s direction. “I don’t need much. Just fresh air, food, and friends at my side... Feel a bit stiff here and there but that’ll fix itself in time. There are folk here far more wounded than me.”
At the mention of his body feeling stiff, he turned from side to side in a gentle stretch, groaning as he felt the muscles pull. “How’ve you been? Looks to me like you’ve picked up more than a few misfits, stragglers, and disciples on your travels...”
Inwardly, she groaned. She did not care for the implication that they were fated to run into one another again, especially with his flippant flirting and sexuality. Idly, she remembered what she had asked Latro earlier, Do you believe in fate? Apparently, it was quite real, and not at all what you’d hope for.
His latter line of questioning, she decided, was much more her speed. “It’s been a tough road. An expedition turned invasion, a lot of loss and hardship, but there’s been good, too.” She said, thinking of moments like her falling in love with Latro, her friendship with Judena, the spring with Raelynn, the party with everyone. Those who she travelled with brought warmth to her heart, and she knew that they were more than just companions. “Despite how impossible it’s seemed at times, I care about these people, and they care about me. We’re all just trying to get by and do the right thing, you know? Life just doesn’t stop because of a war.” she replied wistfully, turning to look at him. “What were you doing in Hammerfell?” she asked, deciding to sit down next to him.
“Such is wartime…” he offered, raising a hand as if there were a glass in it to the sky. “To those we lost…” His hand fell back to his lap after a moment of pensive thought. He took in a deep breath, and found himself peering off at the horizon. “Well my friend, I wasn’t actually in Hammerfell. I got ambushed in the mountains about a month past. Was with a group of good men and women, we were just trailing the winding paths… Looking for a cave and a tomb - you know me,” he winked in her direction, his smile dazzling, “guess we pissed off the wrong patrolmen. Had a scuffle, I ended up in the back of a cart as a prisoner and got shipped out to Hammerfell... But don’t worry, I sure showed a few of them what for all right, couple of new scars for the trouble too...”
Fjolte rubbed at his chin, his free hand motioning and waving with his story. He was engaged in the tale he was telling, as if it would be the last thing he ever told anybody. “So, I don’t know what happened to my friends, I’m almost certain a few of them were killed. I guess that makes me somewhat lucky. I got brought to that shithole prison, wasn’t always on death row. I think I just annoyed the right people at the right time... That day that they took me down there though, I did manage to knock seven shades of shit out of a couple of the guards. I did not go quietly I assure you… It took about seven of them to get me down there.”
“I’m sorry for what happened.” Daro’Vasora said sincerely with a heavy sigh. Yet another life she was responsible for destroying through her ignorance, along with Fjolte’s companions. She brought her knees up to her chest, hugging them tight against her. “We’ve lost people along the way, as well. Part of the reason I’m doing this is for their sake, so their loss doesn’t have to be in vain, so it all means something in the end.” she shook her head ruefully. “We were both prisoners, at least we have that in common. My accomodations were a bit more posh, however. None of your companions were brought to the prison with you?”
The Nord laughed quietly at her words, “You sound as though you're carrying this whole thing on your shoulders; don't be sorry for me. What happened brought me here, didn't it?” he grinned again, tilting his head back to once again gaze at the endless sky above. “My friends will be fine, I'm keen to get back to Skyrim and kick their arses for not being the ones to rescue me though, y’know?” He felt sorry to hear that Sora had lost people too, and there were no words he could offer her that she wouldn't have already heard. He settled for placing a hand on her shoulder.
Fjolte didn’t realize how accurate that observation was. Daro’Vasora wrapped her arms tighter about her leg and resisted the impulse to flinch when he placed a hand on her shoulder. “Might be that they’re waiting on you to rescue them. You always seemed to have a flair for the dramatic.” she muttered.
It was then that he saw Raelynn exiting the tent. He was grateful she had ditched the apron. As she headed over, he watched as she removed the headscarf and shook out her hair from inside. She looked like herself again. He gave her a wave, and in case she didn't see that, he placed two fingers in his mouth and blew hard - a loud, piercing whistle rang out that caught the attention of just about everyone around them.
The Breton sighed. He was already becoming the centre of attention around here. As she wandered over, she caught a glimpse of Daro'Vasora sat by him, and offered her a warm smile before she did him. “Daro'Vasora, it's good to see you,” she said softly, bowing her head ever so in the Khajiit's direction.
The whistle made Daro’Vasora’s ears recoil back from the sudden sharp sound, her eye twitching. When she saw Raelynn approach, her disposition shifted to something warmer and less guarded. She smiled, placing her hand over a fist and returning the bow. “Likewise, Raelynn. Today felt right; we needed a win.” her smile faded somewhat. “Are you well? You’ve looked a bit distraught when we met up again and I never had the chance to talk to you.”
“I’m fine. I’ve been assisting the healers since we arrived, cleaning out infections and dressing is quite draining.. Still, without magic...” she declared with an affable smile, hiding the truth of the matter. “It’s a relief to have Alim back.” She concluded, not wishing for the Khajiit to press any further.
It wasn’t a talk for now, but Daro’Vasora could see the pain and hesitation in Raelynn’s eyes; later, when Fjolte wasn’t around. She reached out a hand for Raelynn to join her. “You may have lost your magic, but you’ve never lost your heart, Raelynn. Please, sit. Rest.” she said with a welcoming smile. “And yes, my heart sang to see Alim and even Gaius… S’rendarr, I thought he was gone. It gives me hope that maybe we’ll see Balroth again, that things aren’t always as bleak as they seem… there’s hope, I can feel it. The air’s changed, like a breath of spring after a long winter.”
Sometimes Sora rubbed her the wrong way - all her talk of hearts and of goodness. Today was one of those days, instead of being a comfort her words were just a painful itch under her skin. She couldn't be that good of a person. She was helping Gregor with his quest, afterall. She had been there to watch Nblec's soul spill into the Cairn. She had enjoyed it. “Still feels like winter to me,” she said as she took a seat, in a tone as icy as any Skyrim winter could be. She rubbed her forehead, feeling the familiar pinch of a headache beginning behind her eyes now that she was out of the shade of the tent and in the open clearing of the Oasis. The amount of people that were around unnerved her too, she loathed crowds nowadays.
“Cheer up Raelynn…” sighed Fjolte, sensing the frost she was emitting around them. “It's not all bad, we have friends, a place to stay for the night… No immediate peril. You also get to look at my face as much as you want, eh?” The smug demeanour continued as he leaned forwards from his perch, placing a hand on each woman's shoulder now as they sat either side of him. “You think Kyne brought me here to let you be as deflated as a flattened tomato?” he laughed at his own words, Raelynn was not as amused.
“Both of you could stand to lighten up, man. Look at where we are! We're lucky to be here, you both need to just… See the light you know?” He let both of them go and jumped up to his feet, balancing on one foot on the highest point of the rock with a mischievous grin.
“Your forced cheer is about as appealing as a bloated corpse; what's left of you when the body ruptures and the putrid gases escape, I wonder.” Daro'Vasora replied tersely, slipping her piece of bone between her teeth. “I'm suddenly reminded of why I couldn't stand being around you for long, Fjolte; you say these empty platitudes and immediately round off every fucking thing with perversion. There is no depth to you, just an emotionally stunted boy. Grow up.”
“That's where you're wrong, Sora. Nothin’ forced about it. I just escaped from death and got freed from a prison…” Still, her words were biting and he flopped back down onto his rear, choosing to close his trap for the time being… “and honestly I always enjoyed your company - even if the feeling apparently wasn't mutual…” starting now.
“Wait… You know Fjolte too?” asked Raelynn, an eyebrow raising to a spectacularly sharp angle.
The Khajiit sighed, grinding her teeth into the bone. “Yeah. We had an expedition together a few years back, had a third partner that tried to backstab us.” she explained, stretching a single leg out. She stared at him for a moment, deciding to cut him off before he dropped the relevant detail in his irreverent, tactless way. “We stopped him, and you know how he gets. After surviving a few close calls, we fucked, if for no other reason than to get him to shut up for a few minutes.” she grunted, annoyed. Her tail flicked on it's own. “That was about the only time his company had any merit.” she added, throwing more thorns at him to make the corpse pop.
“Keep serving it, Sora… You know I enjoy when your claws come out…” he replied with a wink, as quickly as she had indeed served - he sent it straight back to her with a shit-eating grin for a garnish. She rolled her eyes in response.
Raelynn on the other hand sat with her mouth agape and eyes flitting between the two of them, speechless. Her brows softened and she pursed her lips - utterly confused by the entire thing. “But-” she began, before stopping. “I…” words were failing her, and before she knew it, the Nord’s hand was on her head, fingers drumming over her hair lightly.
“You know what? I’ve got literally anywhere else I could be right now, so I think I’m going to go do that. Have fun catching up with the oaf, Raelynn. Come find me when you’ve got some time.” Daro’Vasora said, standing suddenly and brushing herself off.
Fjolte felt… strange, to say the least. He didn’t want to be a thorn in Sora’s side, but he didn’t appreciate her branding him as an oaf so flippantly. “Heh, alright then. There was me thinking you might want to help me fix our friend’s magical impotence, but go on - off you scamper to anywhere else.” He glanced down to Raelynn who was giving him a narrow-eyed, quizzical look. “I suppose we can do it ourselves, blondie.”
That caught the Khajiit off-guard. “The fuck are you talking about? She asked. “If this is more of your games, I swear…”
“What I do isn’t a game, Sora, it’s my purpose…” he said seriously for once - yet not offended by the Khajiit’s tone and manner. He took from his satchel a pouch and waved it in the air with a smile once again. “Surprised the Dwemer didn’t keep this for themselves. It’s a damned good blend if I do say so myself!”
Raelynn was dubious of it, she knew that Fjolte enjoyed his substances, and practiced meditation to a level that far surpassed her knowledge of the art. She knew what he was hinting towards though. She understood that Fjolte liked to guide people through their own minds using some skills he had picked up and developed on his nomadic journey. “I’ll try it Fjolte, it can’t exactly make anything worse, can it?”
She let the Nord lead her away from the crowds to a shaded spot, and looked over her shoulder to Daro’Vasora - her expression showed trepidation, and her hands trembled. “I’d like you to come, actually…” she admitted quietly, almost ashamed that she was asking such a thing. In that moment she just felt that the Khajiit understood the causes of her pain more than Fjolte did.
Daro’Vasora had her arms crossed, an uncertain visage crossing her countenance. Seeing Raelynn tepid and uncertain, a far cry from her usual confidence and self-assured nature, made Daro’Vasora realize that she was scared and hurting. It couldn’t be too different from her experiences with the Moonpath, could it? She watched Raelynn’s hands shake and knew that she needed a friend, now more than ever.
She wouldn’t abandon her in her time of need. She forced a smile and approached, taking Raelynn’s hands in her own to steady them, to reassure her.
“If it helps you find yourself again, I’ll do whatever it takes. You aren’t alone; I’m in.” Daro’Vasora promised.
The three of them sat around a campfire nestled well under the shade of a hanging rock,it was like a small cubby cave. Fjolte had made a makeshift entrance and privacy screen around them with a blanket thrown over the outside edge of the rock. It only had to be a little dark, but most importantly they were to be confined. Sora and Raelynn sat together with Fjolte adjacent, his legs crossed and his smoking pipe in front of him. He’d placed two cones of incense at either side of the campfire, lighting them to release a strong woody smell into the air from one, and a soft floral from the other. They combined into the smoke of the fire.
From the pouch he took a pinch of the herbs and sprinkled them into the flames. Immediately the flames grew and burned a rich violet, releasing plumes of lilac and blue smoke. As Raelynn inhaled it she began to feel immediately dizzy and hazy, but not in an unpleasant manner at all. After that, he tipped a small tankard of water into the fire strategically. Steam began to rise and combine with the smoke, enhancing the fragrances and increasing the potency of his herbs. That, and it turned up the heat in the makeshift cave tent.
“Hold her hands, Sora, she’ll need your guidance and comfort…” Fjolte said in a low voice as he watched Raelynn’s pupils dilate. He himself was feeling slightly warmed. He got up and walked towards her, taking a long white cloth which he applied to her eyes as a blindfold, tying a soft knot in the back before resuming his seat.
“Breathe Raelynn. In, and out. In, and out… Let your mind guide you… Tell us what you see…” And then he blew more dust at her face, not that she would see it, but she felt it spray her cheeks.
“Hold on…”
It took a while, and more than a few deep breaths until whatever drugs were in the herbs really kicked in, and now that she was in the darkness she felt as though she was falling, there was even wind in her face. Was she falling or being dragged? A burning sensation overtook her wrists, as if something was binding them that way, she knew it wasn’t real. It wasn’t real, was it?
Her breathing quickened, and she began to panic. ”Who is here?” she muttered, squeezing Daro’Vasora’s hand in an intense grip.
“Listen to this one's voice, Ko'Raelynn. Your senses are simply shifted, not gone. Let this one's voice be the path you stay true to what is real and what your mind has conjured. Daro'Vasora is here.” the Khajiit promised, flinching under the crushing grip. She was focused on Raelynn, monitoring her expression, the sweat on her brow. It wasn't unlike her own experiences with Moon Sugar, but this was looking inward rather than reaching across the stars to connect with ancestor spirits.
The effects of the incense filled her nostrils, the feline senses much more acute, and her mind might have wandered into its own channels had she not had years of learning how to focus her mind under the influence of potent stimulants and substances. “What you see cannot harm you; let it wash past you like a wave, flow down the river. Do not resist the flow.” she said soothingly. “Tell this one what you feel, what you see.”
This was no river. But a paved corridor of darkness that she found herself floating down upon, her body felt as light as a feather. The only illumination on the hallway was the the purple haze of smoke pooling through from somewhere, each cloud of it seemed to contain a thunderstorm. Flashes of lightning momentarily gave the room light and she could make out the path. The scene seemed to flash and move before her eyes until Sora spoke and gave the image a feeling of clarity. Raelynn nodded; “I feel… Lost, I feel like I’m being watched.”
RING
A bell rang out and from the darkness, a shape came to her. Holding a weapon at their side that as she focussed on it, appeared to be pouring with blood. With every strobing flash the figure came closer and closer still. She could only make out a pair of piercing blue eyes nin the darkness, harbouring anger. “Get back!” she said aloud with a hard determination in her voice, prompting Fjolte to give another ring of the bell...
Before it could make contact it disappeared in a huge cloud of aquamarine powder, as fine as flour or chalk. Just gone, and the colour stained the walls. In its place was the ghostly outline of her familiar, which began to howl out at her.
“A wolf…” she gasped, releasing grip on Sora’s hand. “I have to keep going,” the Breton remarked.
Daro’Vasora moved her hand gently onto Raelynn’s wrists. The wolf seemed to have a particular meaning to her, a familiar sensation. “Follow it, focus on its cry; let it guide you, no matter what you see.” she said, flashes of images permeating her own mind that she forced to ignore, focusing instead on Raelynn’s face. Nothing else was real; just her.
She could feel Daro’Vasora’s touch, the brushing of her fingertips against the bare flesh of her wrist tingled and kept her anchored to reality, even though the darkest corners of her mind were pulling her in. Sora’s hand was preventing her heart from thundering with the fear of the sensory overload she was experiencing. The next vision that she saw was of another figure, dressed in black and launching a bottle against a wall. She watched as it flew across the air towards the wall until it collided. Making no sound - the contents spraying up the wall.
It wasn’t wine. It was blood and she could smell it - the sharp metallic tang filled her nostrils. There was a feeling that she’d been here before. The figure in the cloak had noticed her too, and slowly… slowly, the head began to turn. The storms that were contained within the smoke flashed out with their threatening lights again. The eyes within the hood were azure and ghostly… The mouth of the creature opened as if to scream, a bright light shining from inside the mouth. “NO!!” Raelynn cried out, panting.
RING
As had happened to already, the second figure disappeared into a thick vermillion haze of powder. As it settled onto the ground, she could make out a path made from the pawprints of her canine. As she continued further through the darkness, it felt as though the conjuration was becoming unstable and Raelynn trembled, her breath shuddering. Everything started to feel colder.
She took another deep breath - she could feel the smoke and steam work it’s way through her throat to her lungs where it sat there and stung. She coughed.
The path became forked before her eyes. Left and right - and darkness in the middle. “I have to choose,” she said, her hands fumbling over Daro’Vasora’s arms. To the left she felt the familiar ice cold that had stained the room where she had healed Gregor. To the right, as she focussed in on it she could hear the same waves from the docks where she had healed Zaveed. “I have to choose who to save again,” she uttered, distressed by the thought of it.
“Your path does not diverge, Raelynn; those are the paths of those you have given or had taken a part of yourself,” Daro’Vasora replied, her tone conciliatory. “You are not bound to either; you feel as if your choices only benefit others, that they own your powers. You belong to no one to yourself; your gifts are yours to give, not for others to take. Your path does not diverge here, Ko’Raelynn; it continues forward as it always has. Step forward, and do not waver. Look for the wolf, listen to it’s cry.”
The mage walked forwards towards the dark - as if to take a leap of faith in its direction. No sooner had she chosen her path, did the other two close off to her, and a doorway appeared, with a light spilling from under it. A warm, golden light.
Fjolte watched the two from behind the curling swirls of steam and smoke that filled the entire atmosphere, lighting up his pipe. He observed the interesting dynamic between them and fought hard to suppress a boyishly smug grin from his lips as their hands touched. He took a long draw, feeling everything fill his mouth and then his lungs. He could see from Raelynn’s composure that she was getting somewhere. That, and the heavy sweat on her brow, neck, and decolletage. Her collarbones glistened with it. The strands of hair that framed her face were all clinging to her, wet. The way she was breathing reminded him of a warrior excited by battle.
“Almost there…” he said softly, sprinkling another pinch of the herbs into the flames. He didn’t want to assault her senses too heavily but he knew that she needed a push to keep going. She needed to be confronted and find her way. He nodded in Daro’Vasora’s direction before taking another drag from his pipe. This time blowing out several neat rings of smoke. “Keep your mind open…”
As more smoke surrounded her, she felt the intensity of that which her mind had conjured grow, and the doorway became spectacularly bright, but behind her she felt a chill run up her spine that terrified her to her core. Another shadow. All she could do was move onwards, too scared to turn back. Her steps were hasty, and she made into what felt like a circular cellar, this one was lit up with blue flames on the walls, but still there was something not right about the room. In the middle of it all, sat the spectral shape of the wolf, expression and posture placid.
RING
The canine form disappeared into smoke, and was replaced by the slender figure again. In the light of the room, she saw that the figure was not a monster at all, but still she was scared and trembling. Raelynn clasped a hand to her chest, gasping sharply with the realisation. “I know who you are…”
“Tell Daro’Vasora what you hear.” The Khajiit instructed gently, the pungent fumes causing her to blink, her own senses starting to feel dulled and confused from the chemicals working their way through her veins.
”It’s okay if it’s me…”
Raelynn’s voice, haunting and ethereal from behind her. La’Shuni spoke, another ghostly voice overlapping Raelynn’s, vying for attention, pleading.
”Vasora, where are you…?
This one needs you…
La’Shuni is afraid, she is alone…”
This one needs you…
La’Shuni is afraid, she is alone…”
“Look for the wolf.” The Khajiit instructed, forcing the voices from her head, but her voice sounded like Roux’s. Through the haze in her own mind, she knew that it was going to be harder to tell what was real and what was an illusion.
”La’Vasora, you are bold, reckless, impulsive.
From this day forward, you will be Daro’Vasora.
I am so disappointed in you.”
From this day forward, you will be Daro’Vasora.
I am so disappointed in you.”
Her father chided, a sigh in his breath.
“Feel this one’s touch upon your arm, ground yourself. Follow the path that is your own, do not follow those who demand you leave it.” Daro’Vasora said, her voice somewhat more forceful that before on account of her own troubles.
You are here for Raelynn, Daro’Vasora. Do not let yourself fall prey to this. This is not about you, it is about her. she thought, cautioning herself.
“Raelynn,” spoke the figure in a voice that was simply a deathly rasp. The exhalation that followed the word soured the air. The lights dimmed. “You’re afraid,” Raelynn replied. She was afraid too, evidenced by the pounding of her heart as she stared into the burning eyes of the figure. ”You’re angry…” The figure was emanating wisps of energy, glowing in blues and reds - contrasting colours that were ugly together and hard to look at. Releasing a toxicity into the air that Raelynn felt throughout her entire body. She began to shake.
”I know who you are. I know what happened to you... What you were asked to do...” The more that Raelynn spoke and found her voice, the angrier the figure seemed to get. The energy was spiking and the walls of the room began to close in on them.
Fjolte poured more water into the right spot of the campfire allowing the steam to continue to engulf them.
“You had parts of you stolen…” said Raelynn, lifting her hands to look at them, she looked at the scars that were seared into the flesh. “But that is not who you are. You are not what was done to you…” The shape of the wolf materialised in front of her, as if it knew what was to come. To the figure, the words were a challenge, and in slow motion it began to sprint towards the room at Raelynn. Once more its mouth opened, the unnatural light shining out like a beam of destructive force, the Breton stood her ground, the wolf primed its body to strike, but Raelynn waved her hand. “You need not protect me from this,” she said, still bracing herself for what was to happen.
Daro'Vasora hurriedly pulled Raelynn against her. “Do not waver, Ko'Raelynn… this is your moment, what you've been searching for.” she pleaded, clamping her eyes shut.
”It's okay if it's me…”
”Only two hands, my dear…”
”You failed her, you failed me… I am so disappointed, Daro'Vasora…”
”Sister, where are you? This one is so afraid…”
”Only two hands, my dear…”
”You failed her, you failed me… I am so disappointed, Daro'Vasora…”
”Sister, where are you? This one is so afraid…”
Her body trembled as she held onto Raelynn tightly. The voices and visions coming strongly now, and her ability to fight was weakening. “The path. Please, do not leave it.” she whispered into Raelynn's ear.
The screaming figure was almost at the point of contact Raelynn, and still she held her ground, coalescing in her hand was the golden light she knew as her own magic. “Raelynn!” She repeated back to it finally, stopping the figure in her tracks. With golden fingers pressed to the chest of the figure before her, and as they did the light enveloped her, stripping back the cloak to reveal in front of the Breton a reflection of herself.
A part of herself that she had buried, that she had not confronted. There was only pain in her eyes. The wolf cried, howling ruefully at the sight. Raelynn pressed her whole hand fully against the chest of this version of herself. “None of this was our… my fault. I did the best I could with what I was dealt.” She said with a finality, and watched as the figure began to fade away in a breeze.
Fjolte was still sat cross legged with his pipe held between his lips. His own eyes were relaxed, and eyelids heavy as he continued to mediate the activity for Raelynn, and apparently Sora now too. He noticed that Raelynn’s hands were glowing with the smallest of small golden wisps, and he smiled.
He gave her some time before he got up and walked to Raelynn with silent footsteps, gently removing the blindfold, “don’t open your eyes just yet… Go slow…” he whispered into her ear, placing his hands then onto her shoulders as if to hold her to the spot - to remind her that there was a tangible, real world outside of whatever graphic trip she had created in her mind. “When you’re ready… it’s time to wake up again…” he whispered into her other ear. All in all, he was incredibly surprised at how well it had worked. He hadn’t expected Raelynn to have been so susceptible to it - at least not enough to access what had been lost to her during her first attempt. Either she knew it had always been there, or something else had been paving the path for her before she ever walked upon it. He was not attuned to the arcane, and even with his knowledge of the mind and of meditation, magic was simply not something that had ever touched him or flowed through him like it did for Raelynn and other mages. In a way, he was jealous of what they could experience.
It came time for Raelynn to open her eyes - and when she did, she saw first that her hands were glowing with gold. She wiggled her fingers, and turned her hands over to look at the backs of them, and the palms too. “I’d let everything else die down before you try to really access it, blondie…” came the voice of Fjolte from behind her. “Remember how it feels again, give it more time.”
Her entire body was fully alert, and the cave was no longer in shadow, but highlighted with purple and pink - in fact everything seemed to be the wrong colour, but that fact did not alarm her. Daro’Vasora was orange and it brought a smile to the Breton’s face, she reached out with a finger to touch her nose. “Sora,” she said in a soft slur, her pupils huge and eyelids drooping.
“Oh boy…” said Fjolte as he sucked air through his teeth. “Maybe I gave you too much after all.”
For Daro'Vasora, the world was on fire.
All around her Imperial City burned, and in her hand was the lexicon with so many doors it could open. Bodies littered the streets, cut down by the Dwemer war machine and massive shadows covered the streets like circling birds of prey, the airships that were the backbone of military might.
Other shadows came swiftly, and suddenly the airships were engulfed in flame and ice, the visage of leathery wings…
Somebody poked her nose.
The Khajiit looked before her and saw La'Shuni standing there, dressed in a green cloak and leather jerkin, her sister's pale grey fur looking so much like their father's, including the jaguar-like spots, but their eyes were the same.
Daro'Vasora was about to ask why she was wearing such a strange outfit when La'Shuni spoke, but her voice was that of Raelynn's, only slurred.
Daro'Vasora screwed her eyes closed and opened them once more, and Raelynn stared at her, glassy-eyed and dopey. Her hands were shrouded in golden light.
The Imperial City faded into the background and Daro'Vasora leaned over and pulled Raelynn into a tight embrace. “Well done, Ko'Raelynn!” the Khajiit exclaimed mirthfully, a wide smile upon her lips. She still felt the effects of the smoke, but with something real to focus on, it swirled dauntingly in her peripherals, vanishing if her eyes tried to focus on it.
“How do you feel?” she asked.
Raelynn was taken aback by the Khajiit’s display of affection, but rolled with it regardless. Her fingers running over Daro’Vasora’s fur. It really was surprisingly soft. She let a relaxed purr roll from her tongue and into Sora’s ear as she did so, feeling her body catch up with all of the motions. “My chest burns…” she commented in a gravelly voice which gave weight to her observation. “My body is still spinning in an opposite direction to my head… and the cave is pink….” she giggled and brought a hand to her mouth daintily.
Fjolte watched on. He was pleased with himself, and the usual smug grin displayed that. “You both took a trip through fire and smoke, down the rabbit hole...” His own voice was slurred too, his eyes carrying the tell-tale signs of someone under the influence. “It’s no Moonpath but it’s about as close as I can create…” he yawned, stretching his huge arms into the air, the flames dying down. “I wonder what the smoke showed you Sora, good things I hope,” he said with a cavalier wink.
The Khajiit’s expression darkened and she looked away. “If it’s all the same, I’d rather not talk about what I saw.” she replied tersely, albeit without malice. “I know what I saw isn’t real, it’s just… things I’ve seen or fear.”
“Nothing to fear but fear itself, Sora…” he said, his tone comforting all of a sudden with a sincere warmth that underpinned it. “Our own mind makes things of wonder and things of great terror… It’s alright to be afraid. I won’t pry any further.” The Nord remarked with an air of finality in his voice, and a gentle nod.
Raelynn watched Sora’s face change before her eyes, and she placed a hand on the Khajiit’s lap. “We can talk about it some other time if you’d like, when it’s not so… raw.”
Daro’Vasora was surprised by the affectionate gesture Raelynn showed, feeling an anxious swelling in her gut as she looked down at the hand and then into Raelynn’s eyes. She listened to their words, feeling somewhat embarrassed that she was being so guarded when Raelynn had asked her to participate in something that made her so vulnerable. She ran a hand across her mane, down the back of her head and resting on the nape of her neck, the points of her claws pressing in somewhat. “I relieved the fall of the Imperial City again, the brutality and death of it all. My sister was there; older, different… but still distinctly her. Before the incense had caused me to fail to see the difference between what is real and what is from my mind, I had heard voices. My father berating me, La’Shuni terrified and calling for me. I heard Zaveed’s taunts…” she said, her voice subdued. She took Raelynn’s hand into her own and looked into the Breton’s eyes. “I recalled what you said to me, in the warehouse. The choice I could never make.”
Raelynn’s back straightened at the mention, and her face glazed over - even under the influence she managed to pull a composure from within to mask her feelings. “I buried it… I buried that feeling.” her eyes flicked from Sora to Fjolte, and back to Sora once more as she smiled at the Khajiit. She knew what the woman was alluding too - she’d even spoken about it with Latro, but to discuss it with Sora would be to make it all too real, and all too easy to step back into the shoes of the same Raelynn who wanted to lie down beside Roux. “But… Please, don’t think on it. I was concussed, I didn’t know what I was saying...”
“Even so, it stuck with me.” The Khajiit replied with a heavy set frown, shaking her head slowly. “It feels wrong to carry guilt or pain from that day, especially in light of what you’d endured, but…” she caught herself, a lump forming in her throat. It wasn’t worth digging up the past, and admitting she still had phantom pains in her arm and could hear Roux’s voice when no one was around wasn’t going to help anyone. She forced herself to smile. “Yeah. That’s right, you were concussed, talking out your ass. Sorry, this is why I didn’t want to say anything. It’s not worth anyone’s time.”
The Breton nodded slowly as Sora spoke, letting her get her words out - even though she could see the Khajiit was struggling. Raelynn placed her free hand atop Sora’s, holding a pause for a moment before she spoke calmly, and eloquently; “it would be rather rude of us to discuss such matters in our present company - and state, might I add…” she chuckled in an airy fashion, as if to make the situation seem more jovial than it was. It seemed to work, Fjolte was sporting a cheesy grin, and didn’t appear to be at all concerned about the undertones of the conversation - and he certainly wasn’t reading between any lines. Raelynn gave Sora a squeeze on the hand, as if to let her know and give reassurance that she wasn’t about to close the door on it just yet, and that it was left ajar for the Khajiit to walk through again, later.
Daro’Vasora nodded with a polite smile, feeling somewhat put on the spot and flushed from her indiscretion. “Look, this was fun and all, but I should go freshen up and clear the head. I think I’ll stick with moonsugar from now on; this shit just isn’t fun.” she barked a laugh, attempting to look sly and far more in control of her situation than she wanted to let on. She stood, shaking the sand off with a shake of the head. “I’m glad it helped you, Raelynn. You deserved a win.” she said with a smile before making her departure.
Raelynn was then left alone with Fjolte, and she felt a sense of strength and accomplishment that she hadn’t for a long time. “Thank you,” she said with sincerity.
“No need to thank me, you did it, not me.” He said with a shrug, playing it down. He didn’t need to laud it over her. He didn’t want to either. “Just be careful, don’t go messing around with magic and the like for a bit, you’re still recovering and coming down. My shit is strong, y’know?”
“I take it you’re going to stay with us for a bit then?” Raelynn asked with a smile, watching the Monk as he rolled his shoulders.
“Course I am! But for now, I’m fucking hungry… I could eat a whole horse…” he laughed from his apparently empty stomach, figuring that the Breton probably wanted a moment alone. He felt awkward about Sora too, but she’d be alright. She was a strong woman. He rose to his feet and gave Raelynn one last wave before he swaggered back off to the centre of the celebrations, singing some Nord drinking song on his way at an obnoxious volume.
Raelynn just sighed, pulling her knees to her chest, she would have to speak with Daro’Vasora again, but for now she was waiting for everything to stop spinning so much.
“Mind over matter after all….”
