Chapter 8
Daylight's End
The night was cloudless with stars blanketing the sky like gems sewn into the dark expanse. A gentle wind picked up, stirred the tree branches as if all the night danced to a music only it could hear. No more fitting a time would there be to return someone from the dead. The Elder Sister smirked as she glanced up, savoring the beauty of it all. She shook her head, returning to the arduous task of minding her footing on the uneven trek. Fortunately, the great red moon, Masser was full and provided ample radiance for the task.
The Elder Sister smiled warmly as she stepped into the familiar, dim interior of their underground home. With a toss of her head, she cast off her hood and nodded to the night's guard team at the entrance. Her group wound their way through the tunnels until they came to the large cavern that served as their common area. Nazren motioned, as best he could while carrying the bandit, and the Elder Sister followed his gaze to find the Elder Brother standing in the center of the room, arms folded. His scowl as they approached him could curdle milk.
Unafraid of his wrath, the Elder Sister spoke calmly. "Brother, everything is ready. The ingredients and vessel are here and-"
"Call the others," he interrupted. "We begin at once."
Word spread faster than conjured fire throughout the halls. Conjuration masters and adepts swarmed around the Elder Brother. Knowing their place already in the ceremony, they spread out in a circle as the bandit was settled in the center and a ring of impressive-looking soul gems placed around her. Nazren led the few mages skilled in restoration as they quickly fortified the magics of their brethren and moved away. The far more prevalent masters of the destructive magics took their places between the conjurers, waiting. The rest of the family flooded into the room, eager to witness the revenant, yet maintaining a respectful distance.
Venfrie shifted intently from foot to foot along the outskirts of the room, trying to see over the cluster of bodies before her. From seemingly out of nowhere, Nazren appeared beside her. With a wink and before she could protest, he lifted her small form onto a fairly flat stalagmite, granting her an excellent view. She laughed and made a show of mock indignation as she steadied herself with a hand on his muscled shoulder. She smiled, hopeful in this improved performance of the ritual. She watched as the Elder Brother went through meticulous instructions, though the other mages needed no reminder of their tasks. For all his lack of social graces, the Elder Brother was truly a grand master of the school of conjuration, putting even those teaching the art at the mage's college in Winterhold to shame. If he was confident in this attempt, Venfrie was certain it would work.
Korim passed the bundle of Venfrie's procured ingredients to the Elder Brother and stepped back. The khajiit took a moment to study each, assessing the quality. With a satisfied nod, he passed each ingredient to its assigned individual.
Chatter stopped instantly as if sound had suddenly been stolen from the room. As one, all eyes turned toward the khajiit. Magic rose around him gradually like a storm blowing in on the wind. In slow cascades he wove the spell around each of the mages in the circle. The mages, in turn, took up their section of the weave and fueled it with their own magic, freeing the Elder Brother to move on to the next task. The khajiit took a fraction of a second, tugging on each of the woven strands, ensuring its stability. None could falter if this was to succeed. He could not bear a second failure. With a growing sense of urgency, and magical energy thrumming in his ears, he began to speak. The words came from an age long before, when the elves were still one race. Weaving a second layer of magic around the four grand soul gems, he sank to his knees, preparing himself as the ominous words echoed off the walls.
Almost without warning, his spirit was thrown from his body and sent careening across the Void. He collided with the same barrier as so many times before, and oozed through once again. Ignoring the vile sensation, he sped on toward his goal across the glimmering red-stone wasteland, nothing more than tendrils of spirit. Strength poured into his being from the threads that tethered him to his mortal form and connected him to his brethren, providing the time he would need.
In his mind, he smiled. The culmination of so many lies was about to bear the fruit of his labors. To the mages in the physical world, he was seeking out the soul of their dear mother in Aetherius and by the time they realized their fallacy, it would be far too late for them to stop him.
His flight across the barren rocks came to an abrupt halt as he sighted his goal. The goddess, Illaria, lay unmoving in the distance. With bolstered vigor, he darted to her side, vibrating with energy. For a moment, he could barely contain his exuberance, and merely drank in the sight of her. He paused, quizzically, noting the grim-looking black metal collar around her neck, but the treads tethering him to his mortal form tugged against him, reminding him that time was of the essence.
"My lady," he thought, reverently.
"Ah, my beautiful child," she sighed. "Come, let us break these cursed shackles at last. At the very least I shall be able to embrace you in my new-found flesh."
Needing no further prompting, he glided a pace to his right, seeking out the first of the four seals that bound her to this existence. The thrum of celestial energy resonated uniquely, guiding him easily to the exact point he needed. Just as he had done before, and in so many of his dreams, he wove yet another spell, tying it around the first seal and linking it to one of the soul gems back in the physical world. He moved to the other two seals placed around her and did the same. He laughed at the arrogance of the binding spell. Made with only the thought to contain one being, it never once considered the assistance of a lowly mortal from the outside. The divines held the key to unlocking it, true, but who needed a key when one could simply blow up the door?
Wincing at the strain, the khajiit cast a portion of himself back across the threads of magic. He checked the connection to the soul gems, ensuring, and demanding, perfection. Satisfied, he gave a great pull on the threads woven to the mages in the circle, signaling them to begin the next stage as he returned fully to Illaria's side. The mages hastened to obey, infusing the alchemy ingredients with their magics and mixing them before passing the bowl with the completed product to the Elder Sister. She spoke, using the same archaic words with perfect inflection. The mixture began to glow eerily like moonlight in the cavern as she poured the concoction over the dormant Elder Brother's hands. The mercurial liquid sat for a moment, then sank into his fur and flesh alike.
The khajiit waited and, with little else to do aside from maintain his myriad spells, he took a moment to form his spirit into an image of himself. He gave into mortal compulsion to run his fingers through his mane, but without tangible form, it gave him little satisfaction. A glow began to emanate from his being, and he smirked. Another tug back across the threads and all was ready. He rushed forward as the ritual careened toward its final stage. With a prayer of forgiveness to his resplendent goddess, he grabbed the hilt of the sword lodged between her breasts. Lightning cracked from the divine blade, lashing at his spirit as it lanced along the goddess's astral flesh as he heaved with every ounce of strength he could muster. The blade moved only a fraction.
Venfrie watched in open-mouthed awe. As if one mind controlled them, the destruction masters in the circle raised their hands, calling forth fire, frost, and lightning. It built around them, dancing in elegant twists and turns, growing ever fiercer as it swirled. As one, they hurled the cataclysmic force toward the soul gems. The crystalline vessels resisted for a moment, ringing sharply throughout the halls before being overtaken and shattering into a myriad of shards. Amethyst fragments exploded outward, cutting and lodging in flesh. To credit of their prowess, not one of the mages amid the circle flinched. The onlookers, however, were not so resilient, retreating with cries of shock and pain to the outer edges of the room.
The Elder Brother heaved again, determination and desperation fueling him. The blade shuddered, shimmered, then slowly drew free entirely of its divine host. Illaria screamed in pain, her voice raw, yet still musical as it reverberated through the ebon sky. Even with the torment of a sword pulled from her chest, she reveled in the agony, for it was the herald of her long-dreamt freedom. Slowly, she opened her eyes, finding them unwilling to focus. After a moment, a spectral shape beside her gained clarity. The figure snarled, and with belied strength, cast the still-crackling blade spinning away. She raised her hand wearily toward the form she knew to be the khajiit and smiled.
The Elder Brother froze, spectral mouth agape. He gazed at the goddess, as she lay there. Always had her beauty entranced him, yet now, with her amethyst eyes open, and a soft smile upon her face, she robbed him of all thought. His form wavered as he lost focus, but he fought to quickly regain his composure. He knew the spell could not hold him in this plane much longer, but he knelt and hesitantly touched the goddess's hand.
"My child, you cannot know the depths of my gratitude," she said softly. A shadow passed behind her eyes as she thought of Hircine's artifact around her throat, but she pushed the it aside for the moment.
"My lady," was the only reply he could manage as he bowed his head to rest upon her hand.
"But time is brief, little one. Your spirit grows weary, and cannot remain here much longer, even with the aid of your brethren."
Her silver fingers delicately touched his cheek.
The khajiit nodded, and in turn, offered his hand to her, more a gesture than a necessity.
She took the offered appendage and bid him, "Hold on to me, child."
Gracefully, her spirit rose from her weary astral flesh. The khajiit took the lead, guiding her down to the mortal plane as they traveled back along the threads he had so carefully woven. He lingered for just a moment, ethereal hands releasing hers reluctantly as he returned to his corporeal form.
Illaria brushed her fingertips across the female's cheek. Like snow drifting down, her shimmering form settled into the bandit's body. Even in her weakened state, the goddess effortlessly lifted the spell keeping the bandit's flesh immobile and mind docile, waving away powerful magic as if wiping dust from a tome. She gently touched the woman's mind, assuring the female that her body would be hers again once the goddess's own flesh had healed. Encircled by the mind of the lady of the moon, the bandit felt a strange sense of peace. Despite the unjust confiscation of her body, the woman's consciousness settled quietly into slumber, as if Illaria's presence was a lullaby.
The Elder Brother returned to his physical form. Instantly, his muscles began to spasm uncontrollably as he cried out. The Elder Sister rushed forward, throwing her hands under the khajiit's head in an attempt to protect him from cracking his skull against the unforgiving stone floor. She called to the conjurers to complete the ritual as her hands became cut and bruised.
The mages again followed instruction brilliantly, sealing the pathways between planes. After a few breaths that seemed to last days, the Elder brother's convulsions subsided, and the khajiit took slow, ragged breaths. He turned his gaze toward Illaria's new form, and tried to push himself off the floor, but he lacked the strength to rise. The Elder Sister calmly helped him sit up, and draped one of his arms over her shoulders, another family member coming forward and mirroring her actions on his other side. Together they lifted him to stand, supported, as Nazren respectfully gathered the dormant bandit's form into his arms like a sleeping child. He spared only a glance for the eerie collar around the woman's neck, wondering how anyone could wear such a ghastly thing.
As instructed so many meticulous times before, the procession carried the woman into their mother's room, untouched save for cleaning since the day of her passing. The Elder Brother pushed away from the others, sheer force of will seeming to be the only thing keeping him standing. He nodded to them, both a thanks and an acknowledgment of what they had just accomplished. The Elder Sister returned the nod.
"And now we wait," the Elder Brother said, voice hoarse in the hushed cavern.
"You'll be alright?" the Elder Sister asked, knowing full well how the khajiit would respond, regardless of his true needs.
As expected, he nodded. The others departed, leaving only the Elder Sister standing before him.
His steely demeanor softened to a side that none among the family save she ever saw. "Please," he implored, quietly. "Ensure that no one disturbs us. Our mother must gain control of her new form and any of the other's magics resonating from their bodies would disrupt it. I retrieved her from Aetherius, so my magic will not interfere. Don't worry, I will watch over her, but for the moment we both must get some much needed rest."
She agreed, hearing this explanation not for the first time, and closed the door behind her as he locked it from within.
He smiled at how much easier lies became over time.
His legs buckled all at once, and he collapsed to the floor, barely catching himself before his face smacked unkindly against the stone. Uncaringly, he rolled onto his back and let exhaustion overtake him.
Zavi's tail swished and fidgeted as her ears swiveled in every direction, seemingly of their own accord. The khajiit practically hopped along the street, taking in the sights and sounds of so many people readying decorations and stalls for the festival. The height of so much labor and planning at last came to fruition as the day of the Sky Hearth Festival finally dawned.
Eclipse smirked as he watched her, long strides easily keeping up with her erratic movements.
"You know," he mused, unable to refrain from teasing her any longer. "I cannot help but imagine you yelling 'Oooh' in wonder every time you turn you head."
Without missing a step, she turned, glared at him with a smirk and shoved him bodily, knocking him into the oncoming path of a group of men carrying massive fresh-cut boards. Her laugh of triumph turned to a growl of frustration as the dunmer deftly spun out of the path and rejoined her wearing a mischievous grin and a raised eyebrow.
"Show off," she chided, pretending to sulk.
Boisterous shouts announced that even in the early morning, vast amounts of mead had already found homes in the pits of citizen's stomachs.
"I've got a garnet that says it's Jorrvaskr!" Zavi announced with a leer.
"No, I believe it was merely thunder," Eclipse replied.
"Quiet Lizard Tea!" she retorted, subtly glancing at the sky.
He did not miss the gesture, and laughed heartily. The warm soothing sound carried gently into the din of the crowd.
She smiled at his mirth, ire forgotten.
They wandered through the makeshift stalls lining the main street and shoved against buildings. Tables of treats and trinkets alike glistened in the morning light. Zavi sniffed the air and quickly wound through the bodies to find a stall selling tiny spiced apple pies, their rich, fragrant aroma alluring in the crisp chill. The khajiit passed across appropriate coins and took two of the palm-sized treats. She handed one to Eclipse who, though surprised, offered his thanks as she bit into the warm delight.
As they finished their pastries, the sounds of clashing wood greeted their ears. It stood out against the chatter and the hammering of craftsman forming stalls and, driven by curiosity, they followed the sound to find the source. One of the wealthy estates had offered their back yard as a dueling ring. The low wooden fence was already lined with onlookers, shouting encouragement or jeering at the two combatants. With a final clash of sturdy wooden blade, a victor emerged, his opponent disarmed. Applause and heckling erupted as the two shook hands.
Olfina moved through the crowd with practiced ease and stood next to the khajiit. They exchanged greetings as the next duel started.
After a time of watching the combatants struggle against one another, the silver-maned woman turned, waving. Neither the khajiit nor dunmer could see the recipient of the gesture. Zavi half expected Venfrie to emerge from the throng of bodies, but the female she saw was in fact Anya, wrapped lovingly around her father's arm. They came to a halt beside Olfina staring at the khajiit and the dunmer.
Beldrik smiled, somehow looking years younger.
"I was hoping I'd run into the two of you. I have your reward, as promised," he announced triumphantly. He held out twin coin purses, filled with gems from the sound of their movement.
Almost in unison, the duo made to shake their heads at the prospect of accepting the treasures.
Beldrik frowned and made a reproaching sound as if they were mischievous children, causing them both to smile.
"You'll accept these and I won't hear of it otherwise," he looked both in the eye in turn. "You saved my most valuable treasure. This is but a pittance in comparison, but I would not be able to sleep for the rest of my days if I did not do my best to reward you."
The duo exchanged a humorous smirk and nodded, thanking him as they tucked away the purses. Beldrik turned, intent on finding a delightful snack amid the booths for his daughter. Anya, however, lingered. She opened and closed her mouth many times.
"I just…" her voice faltered. Despite her best efforts, she could not express her gratitude for the lump in her throat.
"It is alright, child. We know what words you would say," Eclipse soothed softly.
The young woman looked to him, then Zavi. The khajiit nodded, one corner of her mouth upturned.
The woman sighed, smiling, then as if afraid she'd lose her nerve, rushed forward and threw an arm around each of them in a fierce hug before turning and latching on to her father's arm once more as they disappeared into the throng of bodies.
Shouts and insults flew like arrows from the crowd. The duo turned back to the duel as the Companions of Jorrvaskr, tasked with overseeing the competitions, paused the fight. Cheer's erupted as Aela the Huntress strode forward toward one of the combatants. The man had made the mistake of trying to throw a dagger from his belt at his opponent moments before. With one fierce punch to the back of the head, she knocked the fool out cold. Laughter resounded as he was dragged none too gently off the field.
Olfina laughed along with them, an earnest smile lighting her face. She'd been hard at work for far too long, and desperately needed a moment like this. Her gaze turned to the duo, merriment shining in eyes the color of a storm.
"Why don't you two try your hands?"
They stared blankly.
"Half the town already has bets on who'd win," she stated, matter-of-factly.
As Eclipse ran through most of the interrogatives available in the language, Zavi grinned.
Bright eyed, she turned to the dunmer.
"Oh no. I know that look, and I refuse."
"Hm, I didn't realize chickens came in blue," she remarked whimsically, the undertone of a scathing challenge did not go unnoticed.
They remained silent for a moment, turquoise eyes boring into red.
Suddenly his eye narrowed and a smirk played on his lips.
"Alright, I accept your challenge on one condition. If I win…," he leaned forward and whispered a string of words into her ear.
Her eyes widened for a moment as she considered, then shook away her doubts.
"Deal!" she yelled, hopping the fence. "Too bad you won't win though!"
"You speak grandly, but that seems your only talent," he retorted smoothly as the crowd cheered.
He joined Zavi on the field as the Companions of Jorrvaskr handed them wooden weapons and asked them to remove their own blades as a precaution from the last match. Zavi swung a wooden sword in each hand, testing the movement, as Eclipse did the same with but a single weapon.
"Ha!" Zavi taunted. "Now you're in trouble! Your Akaviri blade is made for slashing, not parrying swords! Your fighting style's useless here!"
He raised an eyebrow at her words.
"I thought ahead!" she smirked, head cocked in pride.
"We shall see," he replied calmly.
"No magic and don't kill each other," one of the Companions yelled. "Whenever you're ready."
Eclipse settled back, taking a defensive stance. He smiled, marveling how much you could get to know someone in so short a time.
Zavi cocked her head to the side, thinking as she watched him. Seeing he wasn't about to attack, she charged in, fangs bared as she snarled a fierce war-cry. She slashed across her body with her right blade, and as he caught and deflected the blow with his own weapon, she thrust with her left blade at his ribs. He stepped back and to the side, but the blade still glanced off him, causing him to grunt in discomfort. The hit fueled Zavi, and she lashed out again, this time bringing her right blade down in an overhead strike as she swung for his midsection with the left. He blocked her overhead strike, and tried to deflect it so that he could stop her second attack, but she kept pressure on the strike, refusing to be dislodged. He frowned, and in a split-second decision, dropped his stance lower to the ground and side-stepped away. Zavi, now off balance, received a scathing strike to her outer thigh for her efforts. She growled at him, and he smiled.
Zavi charged again, and once more they were locked in an elegant dance, wheeling around one another as they circled, exchanging blows. The shouts and goads of the crowd faded away until they only became aware of each other. Time passed until the two were panting for breath, each searching for the crack in the other's defense that would allow them victory.
Zavi grinned, coming up with a new plan of attack. Her stamina was running out and she needed to end this match quickly. Confident in her plan, she charged forward, unafraid.
Until he shot her a mischievous grin.
With a speed he had not shown before, he side-stepped her attack completely, and swirled around her, dealing out a biting strike to each side of her ribs. Zavi turned, surprise and anger vying for supremacy on her face. He smiled again, changing his stance. Gone was the weary set of his shoulders, his ragged breathing. She paused for but a moment, then came at him again, cautiously.
Perfect.
She struck again, aiming for his shoulder while keeping her left blade in front of her for defense. Eclipse watched as her weapon drew nearer, and with three rapid movements, struck her wrist, thumb and fingers of the same arm. She swore violently and dropped the blade on reflex.
The crowd was silent.
Eclipse pressed forward, preventing her from even considering retrieving the weapon. Zavi parried and dodged, wooden blade gripped in both hands, for she needed them both to counter the jarring power of his strikes. She defended well, but time and time again as she countered one strike, another darted in and found its mark, stinging, but lacking his full power behind it. Zavi swore again, temper getting the better of her as she charged at him, feral growl rolling from bared fangs. She swung, uncaring at what she hit or where. Time seemed to slow, and she watched in amazement as his blade touched hers, spun around it, and flung it from her grasp. Before she could react, he surged forth, blade across her throat as he breathed just a handspan from her.
"Dead."
The soft proclamation brought thunderous cheers from the crowd, swelled to twice it's former size.
"How?" she protested, shock evident on her face.
He leaned forward and whispered, "If you will recall, I was the weapons trainer of my house, my dear."
With that he smiled and handed his weapon hilt-first to one of the Companions as they gathered Zavi's lost ones.
Zavi stood a moment longer before he turned back to her and smirked, unabashed.
"Of course, you do realize now what you must do," he said softly.
If a khajiit could pale, Zavi did.
Drifting in an endless sea of memory like she had been condemned to do for so many eons, Illaria sorrowfully relived the worst moments of her divine existence. Regret poured from an invisible wound in her heart. And even now, she had yet more regrets to pile atop it, for in her own desire to be freed from her eternal prison, she had loosed her father's machinations upon the realm. In a desperate attempt to stop the dark tide of her thoughts, she gently touched the bandit female's mind, asking myriad questions of the woman's life and the mortal world. Illaria laughed with true delight as she learned the female wished to be called by her nickname "Fin" rather than her given name. Apparently the outlaw's favored hairstyle was the point of many good-natured jokes.
In return, the moon goddess answered every question the female wished, to the best of her ability. Some concepts were incomprehensible to a mortal mind, but Illaria did her best to explain. The goddess paused, surprised to learn that Fin had a vast amount of regrets of her own for her short years of existence. Somehow, it was a comfort.
At length, the bandit set aside her outrage at the theft of her body. The knowledge she gained from the goddess fascinated her, and for what Illaria assured her would be but a short time, Fin was content to do as she had done for the majority of her life and simply accept whenever strange or unpleasant things happened to her.
Subtly, a dark tide rose around them as they spoke, unnoticed until it was too late. Illaria's mind screamed in agony as black tendrils wrapped around her consciousness. She fought, knowing that the power she struggled against was greater than her own. Her last desperate action was to wrap a shield around Fin and protect her from the malevolence.
She needn't have bothered.
The darkness had what it wanted, and it pulsed and swayed in glee at it's victory.
The Elder Brother groaned, and rolled onto his side, finding no relief upon the uneven stone floor. Every muscle in his body ached and his mind felt like he had not slept in days. With a curse, he pushed himself off the cold floor and hobbled to the bed where his goddess slept. His weary mind snapped awake as his eyes took in the sight that greeted him. He expected that housing a divine being would alter the physical form of the female, but still, he took a step backward. Charcoal skin and a full head of regal ebon hair met his gaze as the woman's eyes snapped open. An amethyst gaze flickered for but a moment before a black as cold as a starless night overwhelmed the sparkling irises.
He took another step backward.
She rose, surging to regal height as her sable mane undulated seemingly of its own accord. A cold smirk formed on her face as she reached out and stroked his cheek.
"Ah, little mortal, how I thank you," she laughed, the sound raising the fur on the back of his neck.
"Lady Illaria?" he questioned softly.
"Lead me outside, mortal. Let me gaze upon the night in all it's glory."
"Of course, my lady," he began hesitantly, reminding himself that she could destroy him with but a thought and obedience was likely the best course for the moment. "But, my lady, the hour is already well into the morning."
She laughed again. He did not miss the sinister tone.
The khajiit stepped back, and ushered her out of the confines of the room. As she walked the corridors, head held high, she looked very much the picture of royalty. The mages they met along the way fell back as they met her gaze, the instinct of self-preservation dominating their curious minds. The khajiit bit his lip as one of his brothers stepped into their path. The man's scathing questions were cut short as, with an uncaring wave of her hand, the goddess sent the man flying across the cavern. Bones cracked and shattered as he collided with the wall, leaving him to fall in a crumpled heap of impossibly contorted limbs. The khajiit only hoped he was already dead as the goddess moved on through the throng of onlookers. He hurried to take the lead, and without any further pause, they emerged from dark interior into the vibrant morning.
He breathed a sigh of relief for but a moment.
The goddess stroked his cheek once more, smiling.
"Enjoy the sight, my little mortal. It is the last of the accursed sunlight you shall ever see."
He steeled himself, waiting to be obliterated at the proclamation, but instead she turned and raised her hands to the sky. She lifted them slowly, from the horizon to the sun. The sky around them began to darken, slightly at first then with grander disparity. Eyes wide in horror, he watched as what could only be the great moon Masser rose in front of the sun until they stood locked in twilight's gloom.
"From this moment on, dear mortal, the night shall rule forever!" she proclaimed, ethereal voice echoing across the barren landscape.
"Brother," a voice accused from behind them.
He turned to see the silhouette of the Elder Sister behind him.
"Brother, what have you done!?" she demanded.
"All of it?" Zavi asked in disbelief.
"The vast majority of it," Eclipse replied.
"But-" she protested indignantly.
"Oh no, dear, no 'buts'. You agreed, after all," he chastised with the ghost of a smile.
"You. Are. Evil," she breathed.
His continued grin was his only response.
"How much is 'the majority'?" Zavi asked, voice wavering.
"Let us say that you may keep two for every eight you remove," he replied, gently, but unyielding. She did not reply, so he continued. "You know you need to and you know you wish to, regardless."
They stood, staring at the catastrophic mess that dominated Zavi's house. Eclipse looked quietly triumphant, yet Zavi looked as if she felt ill.
She couldn't deny his claim. She had indeed agreed to this, and she did indeed desire a clean house, but…
"Ok, we'll do it tomorrow," she announced quickly.
"No," he replied.
"But we'll miss the festival if we do it now."
"And you will refuse to honor the deal come morning," he finished.
"I really hate you right now."
"I know."
He placed his arm around her shoulders.
They stood silent for a moment more.
"Fine. You win. Two for every eight," she replied with a resigned sigh, leaning against him as if the strength were suddenly gone from her limbs. "But I really don't want to miss the festival. Tomorrow at dawn? I'll even let you hold onto my bow until then."
He looked into her eyes for a moment and determined that she spoke in earnest.
"No need, I will take you at your word," he replied. "Tomorrow at dawn then."
With that, the duo exited the cluttered confines of her home and rejoined the milling crowd. Zavi immediately bought the nearest sweet treat and bit into it, munching sullenly. The two ambled for a time, stopping to watch a man juggling five torches.
Danica Pure Spring emerged from the Temple of Kynareth, the rest of the priestesses in tow. With resounding calls from the Companions, the crowd hushed and people packed around the Gildergreen, waiting for the announcement of official start of the festival. The head priestess began to welcome everyone, and led the crowd in a prayer to Kynareth, giving thanks for the weather and their harvest. The sky grew darker as she spoke until a shout from the crowd called all attention to the sky.
The great moon Masser moved steadily before the sun, blocking out its light. The crowd waited, breath held in the gloom, chattering excitedly at the events. The priestess wisely waited for a time, knowing the people's attention would not be diverted. She made a jest at the gods having a sense of humor for interrupting the celebration, which called forth laughter from the assembled mass. At length, the priestesses looked to one another and shrugged. They continued speaking, giving thanks and acknowledging various individuals for helping the first recommencement of the festival to be possible and, as seen by the amount of people who had already begun to celebrate, a success.
They waited a moment more, torches springing up in the guards' hands here and there. At last, the head priestess yelled her irritation at the eclipse and told the crowd to go and enjoy themselves. They responded with cheers that carried out over the plains.
Eclipse purchased two mugs of steaming tea and joined Zavi as they sat atop crates pushed back against the city walls. Out of the crowd and somewhat sequestered, they watched the brilliant glimmering ring of light just around the great moon's edge.
"Huh, I guess it's just your day," Zavi remarked, noting happily that her tea contained honey. When he only looked at her quizzically, she continued. "The duel? The eclipse? See? Your day."
He laughed softly.
"I suppose eclipses have always been a touch prophetic for me," he replied quietly, sipping his tea.
"Why do I always feel like every single answer from you has about half the full story," she mumbled with a scowl.
"Not everyone shares your style of tact. Or lack thereof," he smirked.
"Yeah, yeah, Smirky Face. Tell me," she demanded.
He sighed, resigned that he would get no peace until he told her.
"When I was forced from my homeland, I was stripped of my name and all ties to my people. The night I found I needed a name again, there was a partial eclipse, and that seemed as good a name as any at the time."
Zavi's zeal deflated a bit at that.
"Oh," she responded quietly. "Right. I sorta forgot about that," she sighed, gazing elsewhere, eyes narrowed, then charged right back into the fray. "Well, I'd say they were stupid idiots to send you away, but I probably shouldn't call your family stupid idiots because they're not my stupid idiots."
A part of him wanted to defend his family, but against the khajiit's blunt levity, he could only smile sadly and shake his head.
Zavi paused, frowning, hating to see him so somber.
"Hey, for what it's worth? You're a good male. And I'm damn glad I met you," she said, an uncharacteristic seriousness to her tone.
"And I you," he replied earnestly. "To think what might have happened if I had not followed the tracks to the bandit lair that night."
Zavi smiled warmly, not her usual mischievous grin, but a gentle tenderness.
For a moment, Eclipse forgot to breathe.
Before another word could be exchanged, a great clamor rose, myriad voices talking all at once. Perplexed, they hopped up and trotted to the source, wincing at the cacophony. It didn't take long to determine the reason, nor for dread at the portent to seep into their hearts.
The morning hours had turned to late afternoon, still deep in darkened gloom.
And the great moon remained fixed before the sun as it crossed the sky.
