AN: Yes, yes, I know I haven't updated Trinity for a very long time, but I'll get around to it eventually. The idea for this fanfiction came from a Skyrim Blog character build called "The Ka'Po'Tun" by a guy named Henson. You can find it at group/character-building/forum/topics/the-ka-po-tu n?xg_source=activity
It's a really good build; I strongly suggest checking it out. Anyways, I don't own Skyrim or the Elder Scrolls Universe, but I do own the entire Ka'Po'Tun society and Vari (because of the lack of lore on Akavir, most of this is from my imagination). The Tiger Dragon has no relation to Trinity whatsoever and M'lecis, Pip and Kharo do not exist in this story. Yes, Vari is the Dragonborn. That said, enjoy!
4E 197, RAKA CITY, AKAVIR
I turn fourteen on the day of our kind's greatest victory in a millennium.
One of the great Tsaesci cities had fallen to the Ka'Po'Tun forces that swarmed it late last night; hundreds of thousands of the vile serpents were ashes in the blazing summer sky, and all I could feel was emptiness.
For my people, birthdays are normally used for military reasons. 18 year olds gear up to be sent to fight the Tsaesci; 25 year olds aspire to kill more lizards before they are recalled from the front lines, and eager 10 year olds head for the barracks to begin their training. Maybe friends and family are a little kinder on your birthday, or maybe your superiors give you a pat on the back, or an extra ration.
Sometimes I wonder what it's like to have somebody who cares whether or not you die. My only friend is my great sword, my only family is the officer mounting the stage right now to inform the people of the capital city how he personally slaughtered hundreds of Tsaesci.
It's about 7:00 at night, and the turnout is mostly young warriors and veterans who have their own brand of hatred for the Tsaesci.
My father, Reoquin Snake-Bane, climbs on top of the raised platform with the deliberate steps of a seasoned warrior. He takes in the throngs of Ka'Po'Tun packed into the city's open courtyard used for military drills, takes in their fur raised with excitement and tails whipping back and forth like the snakes he has returned from fighting, and he starts to speak.
His booming voice reaches me on top of the building I'm crouched upon about one hundred feet away.
"My comrades," he starts. "Today is a great victory for our nation! The Tsaesci have suffered heavy losses and are on the verge of collapse. Now is the time to press the attack! Their extinction is at hand and by the grace of Tosh Raka, we will be the ones to deliver it to them!"
That is when the great warrior looks up for a split second and sees me, his only child. I watch his mouth turn ever so slightly into a frown as he sees me, the reminder of his only source of shame. This is the first time he's acknowledged my existence in at least ten years, and then the moment is gone; he turns away and continues his speech to the eager people of Raka City.
I am nothing to him, nothing to those people in the courtyard and nothing to my nation.
I am the only blemish on an otherwise spotless record.
He never married my mother, as is the tradition here. It was a one night stand with lasting punishment only for my mother, a maid who attended Reoquin in the time between deployments. I am told she was beautiful, and her beauty was her downfall. After I was born, she was sent to another city far away, only staying with me long enough to give me a name. After two more affairs and another pregnancy, she was executed. I never knew her name.
The military rule this nation, and she distracted someone they needed to fight the Tsaesci. So she was eliminated.
Apparently I have a half-sister. Lucky thing, her father actually wanted her.
I was shipped off to the building I'm watching my father from now: The Bastard Battalion Headquarters. Relationships between officers and servants happen frequently enough to warrant some sort of program to take care of the unwanted bastards, and it's effective, I guess. Most of the boys die on the front line and most of the girls end up as servants even after age 25, the age we no longer have to be in the army.
Basically, I'm property of the state.
My father finishes his speech just as I am abruptly jerked backwards by the tail, tufts of orange fur flying into the air as my assailant starts to screech in my ear.
"Kakivari," Officer Relana yells. "Just what do you think you're doing up here! You are not supposed to be out of your cell unless called for!"
"Sorry…" I mutter, not sorry at all.
She gives me a withering look, and then drags me by the collar of my ill-fitting black uniform into the stairwell leading down to the bastard barracks. The last glance I get of the festivities outside is my father and some government officials shaking hands as the crowd yells their approval.
The officer and I march back to my cell, where she unceremoniously shoves me through the iron door and I hear the click of the lock behind me, then the clunk of her boots marching away. I flop down onto the bedroll into the corner and sigh. My room is small, 10 feet by 10 feet that contains everything I own, which isn't much to begin with. One steel great sword, one bedroll and one black uniform that's too small for me anyways. That's all my possessions.
Dinner was three hours ago, but I'm starving anyways. The majority of all the food produced in our country goes to the military, not to about fifty bastards destined to lead either short lives or miserable lives. We're expected to stay in the cells unless training or eating, and my little trip to the roof isn't going to get me extra helpings at breakfast.
All in all, it's been a pretty bad birthday.
I decide that even though it's only probably 8:00 or so, I'll get incredibly bored staring at the celling and going to bed early is better. Besides, breakfast is at 5:30 AM with training right after, and trying to learn how to pick a lock while running on 5 hours of sleep is nearly impossible.
The officers around here think I don't know what the army wants me to do when I get sent into the field, but anyone half blind can see it. In fact, the other bastards have practically alienated me because of it.
They want me to be a spy.
A spy is a respected position amongst the Ka'Po'Tun. We're naturally sneaky and great spies can save countless soldiers from dying at the hands of the Tsaesci. The only drawback is that most spies don't survive their 7 years trailing Tsaesci movements. Heck, I'll take the deal if I even have a shot of no longer being haunted by calls of "Bastard!" whenever I so much a stick a whisker outside the barracks. I've gotten the same combat training the non-bastard trainees get plus the additional spy skills like lockpicking, speech, and the art of stealth. I'm counting down the days until I turn 18 and they send me out into the field. At least then, all I will be able to think about are the Tsaesci.
Maybe then my father would actually recognize me as his daughter.
I fall asleep fairly quickly. In my dreams, there's a jet black dragon soaring above a mountainous, snowy land before alighting upon a stone tower. The dragon looks at me for a split second with the same disapproval my father had. Then my dream fills with fire, screams and blood and I wake, panting like I've just been sprinting.
A sharp rap sounds at my door; I groggily roll out of my bedroll and stumble over. An officer in a crisp uniform swings the door open and I walk through, slightly confused as I'm pretty sure it's not 5:20 yet. The officer motions for me to follow him, and he trots off down the dark hallway. I follow him uncertainly. Bastards who cause trouble sometimes disappear, and I half expect a knife to appear at my throat at any second now.
The officer stops at another doorway, and I enter cautiously. The doorway slams shut behind me.
There's a female officer inside seated at a desk. There's also an empty chair.
"Sit down, Kakivari." the officer says, and I obey.
She must sense my confusion and fear, for she reassures me I am not in trouble, I am not being executed or shipped to the front lines.
"Do you go by Kakivari?" she asks.
"I prefer Vari." I answer, trying to be as respectful as possible. I hate my name; the lack of originality shames me. What was my mother thinking?
"There's been…well, a change in your assignment Vari. A clever girl like you surely knows you were tapped to be a spy on the front lines, correct?"
"Yes…"
I'm pretty sure now that I'm going to end up as a common foot soldiers for my roof trip.
"You will still be a spy, but you won't be spying on the Tsaesci."
What?
"Vari, you're being sent to Tamriel as part of an elite force that will assess whether or not we can successfully invade after the Tsaesci are extinct."
Tamriel. A mystical land that I've only heard of in old history books. A land with no Tsaesci.
Maybe it was a good birthday after all.
4E 201, RAKA CITY, AKAVIR
The years that follow see me transferred out of the Bastard Battalion and into Project Khajiit, which is what the mission has been dubbed. It consists of three teams of four Ka'Po'Tun each. We had all been selected for our stealth and combat skills and also for our slender frames that more closely mimic the Khajiit, another feline race that inhabits Tamriel. My orange fur and black stripes that all Ka'Po'Tun have are uncommon, but not unheard of, amongst the Khajiit. Our appearances are not a problem, it's our culture.
Ka'Po'Tun have visited Tamriel before, but never for more than a year and never outside of Elsweyr. This is will either help the nation dramatically or be a total failure.
This is my chance to gain respect. I'm the only bastard in the entire project, and my three teammates, Rasha, Gurel and Boged already look down on me. I must prove them wrong.
Four years of language lessons have me reciting both the Tamriel common tongue and the native language of the Khajiit in my sleep. I've also memorized map after map of the various provinces along with the eight major deities. I know that difference between the Aldmeri Dominion and the Thalmor, and the finer points of something called the White-Gold Concordat.
I am ready.
My team is supposed to travel to the provinces held by the Empire: Cyrodiil, High Rock, and Skyrim. Our goal is to send messages to a Ka'Po'Tun outpost in Elsweyr. From there, whatever information we can get will be sent directly to Tosh Raka himself to help plan the invasion. We are to travel through Cyrodiil to Skyrim, where rumor has it unrest and turmoil are brewing. A perfect opportunity to weaken the people of Tamriel.
And oh, are we supposed to cause havoc.
"Take down whatever leaders you can." says the general in charge of Project Khajiit twenty minutes before we board the ship that will take us to Tamriel. "Join factions and get influence, then use it to further the cause. If you can, get provinces to fight each other."
My belongings in hand, I step onto the boat. My teammates are already below decks, in their cabins. I am the last Project Khajiit member left on dry land.
I look at Raka City one last time. The wind is blowing through the savannah grass that lines the path back to the city. I've never thought of it as home, but it's all I've ever known in my eighteen years of life.
A figure stands two hundred feet down the path. I can see the armor that defines him as a high ranking officer and a hero. For a second, I almost believe it's my father, but Reoquin Snake-Bane is off fighting the remnants of the Tsaesci far away from the savannah, in the depths of the jungle. This man is just a veteran come to wish us well.
Disappointment washes over me, but I fight it down. Where I am going, I cannot afford to be weak.
I board the ship, one of the few vessels in the Ka'Po'Tun navy, and head for the top deck as the captain steers the ship away from all I've ever known. Akavir shrinks into the horizon until it's been lost from even my excellent sight, and for the first time in my life, I am truly afraid.
My destiny lies in a land I have never laid eyes upon, and for a fleeting moment I wonder if I will ever see the land of my birth again.