Chapter 26 - Their First Meeting
"So, whelp, once again, what do you think about going to Kodlak and having him judge your worth as a Companion? I'm sure you-"
"I'm sorry, Aela, but irregardless of your skill as a warrior, I am still going to insist that you release my Thane's arm and back away; it's my duty to guard his body as his Housecarl, and your presence is interfering with my job."
"Don't be so jealous, little Lydia; I'm sure I can do a far better job than you ever could. Besides, look at the whelp; you don't see him complaining about it, do you?"
"My Thane, please correct Aela's misunderstanding at once! And peel her off of your arm!"
"Will you two please keep it down?" I asked, fighting to disguise the annoyance creeping into my voice. Rubbing my temple with my free hand to relax, I then pointed at the mountain (and dozens of toiling figures) we'd been slowly creeping towards (despite the numerous hindrances), and continued: "We're approaching a large concentration of unknowns, and I'd rather not reveal our position if I can help it."
Grunting quietly at their murmured responses, I sighed, and turned back towards the path leading towards the top of the mountain, enjoying the first moment of silence in the past hour since Aela had joined us. Based on the legends Aela had shared with me regarding Miraak that she'd heard about (which hadn't been much, to be honest; a native of Solstheim would probably know far more, but Aela had been here longer than I had, and even her spotty hearsay was better than nothing), it hadn't been hard to guess that the mountain we were approaching was probably the way towards Miraak's Temple; not only were the toiling figures, acting just as those poor souls at the Earth Stone in Raven Rock had been, slowly uncovering (or rebuilding; I honestly couldn't tell, and any difference was probably semantics at best) some ancient ruins where Neloth had said the temple would have been, but the base of the mountain was literally covered in skeletons. Dragon skeletons, in fact, which probably lent some credence to the story Aela had told me (which I hadn't believed in the slightest, and which I really should have) that Miraak had rebelled against the dragons, before being put down by a legion of very angry dragons.
Speaking of Aela, I found myself surprisingly ambivalent regarding her new presence. Sure, there was no way I would ever be against enjoying the company of such a beautiful young lady (although she was, in typical Nord fashion, nowhere near as demure as that word would have suggested; unlike the typical Cyrodilic usage of it to refer to breeding and behaviour, I was merely using it to refer to her age), and I'd witnessed Aela's prodigious skill with the bow being used on both a giant and three werebears. But there was just something about the intensity of her gaze and her seemingly-wolfish grin which made me feel like I was being looked at like a piece of meat sometimes, a gaze which I hadn't noticed the last time I'd met her, and the way she'd seemed evasive, almost guilty even, when I informed her about the mercenaries' attack on Jorrvaskr had my suspicions raised, as well as how she'd refused to answer completely honestly when I'd asked what she was doing here. The way Lydia had kept gritting her teeth and sniping at Aela hadn't helped things either, but as Lydia had been doing that for quite a while at this point and towards a lot of people, I didn't really hold it against Aela.
I wasn't completely dense, after all, and Lydia's affections hadn't exactly been subtle, but for the time being I figured it was best for me to avoid openly acknowledging her feelings; for one thing, I honestly hadn't actually had the time to take a breather and consider my feelings, what with the non-stop conflicts I seemed to find myself embroiled in and all, as well as the fact that we'd only known each other for three months. The main factors that prevented me from doing anything else, however, was my preternaturally bad luck in both life and love, and especially the world-threatening conflicts that I kept finding myself in. I'd seen Lydia's worry when I went up the mountain (hence why I decided to comfort her), and especially how not just Lydia, but Serana and Jordis too had been all exceptionally shaken by the state I'd found myself in after battling the World-Eater. In the end, knowing the danger of the battle that lay ahead, I just couldn't find it in me to try and advance any of our relationships past the current one at this time, and thus possibly hurt them on the very-likely chance that Alduin was able to do some serious permanent damage to me the next time we fought (if not kill me outright, though I was obviously aiming to avoid any of these less-than-ideal outcomes). My companions' loyalty and concern towards me was still surprising to me, to be perfectly honest, and had gone far beyond anything I'd ever expected, let alone witnessed (the Blades' absence just after the battle, and the way they'd treated me before that, was still fresh in my mind). Aela was at least a known factor, though, and on this island with a foe who seemed to be back from the dead and possibly capable of Illusion magic (not a stretch, seeing all the entranced workers), I could use all the help I could get. And speaking of the entranced...
Luckily, the workers were in the unresponsive type of trance, as opposed to the "disturb me and I'll try to kill you" type I'd been slightly worried about, and after verifying it with a few thrown stones (and a few unfortunate and now-unconscious workers), I finally relaxed fractionally, and opted for simply strolling up the path up the mountain, and past the totally-not-creepy dragon bones and oblivious entranced workers, with my companion and the Companion in tow. Surprisingly enough, my luck held, and our entire journey up went unchallenged by the surrounding workers. None of us let our guard down, though; it was still eerie as a stroll through the Soul Cairn, especially since we didn't know what caused this entrancement, who was really behind it, or if any of us were susceptible to it. Before any of our nerves could snap, and one of us begin something they'd possibly regret and start knocking out the entranced chanting workers, we finally reached the top of the mountain, and quickly took cover as a voice from within the mountain's crater reached us.
Upon closer inspection, however, it merely appeared to be a random unknown woman trying to beg one of the entranced to wake up and return, and I sighed as she exclaimed: "You must fight against what is controlling you! We must leave this place! Ysra, can you hear me? You must leave this place!" As comforting as it was that there was someone who didn't seem to be in the same weird trance as the other workers, this was still the potential stronghold of a clearly-powerful mage and potential Dragonborn and enemy, and thus was no place for anyone of dubious martial skill to be at. Exchanging a put-upon look with my Housecarl, I decided to try warning her away, and loudly stood up (her shouting and shaking of this "Ysra" was much louder, and I doubted my small action would wake them up with her around), alerting her to my presence, and as her head quickly snapped towards me I was treated to my first full view of the blonde Nord bombshell.
The first thing I noticed, as we exchanged gazes, was the strength in her metallic eyes; an odd mix of grey and blue which gleamed as they studied me just as I studied them. Clearly, they didn't belong to someone lacking in strength of character, and for a moment I found myself wondering what a mainland Nord was doing here, or if Lydia had been wrong about the Skaal Nords of Solstheim. Slowly I pulled away from her steely gaze and looked at her face, and found myself feeling an odd kinship with the unknown Nord. Despite her obvious youth, and the very-much explicable guarded look on her face as well as the concern she'd been expressing earlier towards whoever she'd been addressing, there was still something within that took me a bit longer to decipher, but eventually I recognized it: the look of someone who'd seen something. She, too, had evidently been through some traumatic experiences in her life, and had gained some useful (if not unwanted) wisdom from it. Finally, deeper down, I sensed an internal conflict hidden deep within her, presumably an insecurity she struggled with occasionally, during quiet moments when she was in a somber or reflective mood perhaps.
What really drew my attention, though, as my gaze wandered down along her flowing golden hair from her face, was the accentuated curvature and substantial breastplate of her ornately-carved old Nordic-style armor, it's silver highlighted by the thick pelt of a black bear being used as a makeshift cape. This type of armor was something which I'd only previously seen on very rich and powerful mercenary captains and bandit chieftains, and few had been carved as carefully and exquisitely as this piece clearly had been. Fewer still had been modified with such a generous allowance of the armor's chest piece. Despite all it's decorations, though, I had a decent amount of personal experience with the hardness of this metal, and judging by both the additional thickness of the armor and the few scratches and dents that hadn't been fully repaired, I could tell that this armor had been made with the wearer's protection in mind first and foremost. Unfortunately, before I could study the stranger's armor any further, Lydia pinched my cheek hard and Aela elbowed me in my injured ribs respectively, restoring my focus just in time to hear the stranger challenge me with a clear "You there. What brings you to this place? Why are you here?"
"I'm just an adventurer investigating these ruins. And you are?" I responded cautiously while fighting the two-pronged pain to keep a straight face, unwilling to reveal too much information to the stranger lest she be a spy or something; such ornate and expensive armor wasn't exactly six a septim, after all, and she was in Miraak's temple all alone. Her hand not leaving her weapon's handle, she gave me another quick study, followed by a look at my two companions, before apparently deciding that we weren't lying, and relaxed fractionally. Her face betrayed no wariness or suspicion as she brightly answered: "I am Frea of the Skaal. I am here to either save my people, or avenge them."
Sadly I didn't have time to savor the looks of utter disbelief on Lydia's and Aela's faces as they heard the well-armored Nord in front of them was one of the supposedly-weak (or pacifistic, which I suppose was one and the same to the hot-blooded warrior women) Skaal; her choice of word usage had intrigued me, and I asked: "Save them? From what?"
"I am unsure." Frea admittedly, looking mildly embarrassed, but recovered and continued before Lydia and Aela could make any snide remarks: "Something has taken control of most of the people on Solstheim. It makes them forget themselves, and work on these horrible creations that corrupt the Stones, the very land itself. My father Storn, our shaman, says Miraak has returned to Solstheim, but that is impossible."
Well, that pretty much ruled out her being a spy for Miraak, I supposed, unless she was just a really good liar, and hoping she would take the bait, I drily noted: "This Miraak tried to have me killed."
Fortunately for my poor and abused sides, she took the bait, and before Lydia and Aela could protest, she suggested: "Then you and I both have reason to see what lies beneath us. Let us go. There is nothing more I can do here. The Tree Stone and my friends are beyond my help for now. We need to find a way into the temple below."
"Sounds like a plan." I said loudly, over the sputtered complaints of my indignant Housecarl, and decided to continue my information gathering with a direct: "What do you know about Miraak?"
"His story is as old as Solstheim itself. He served the dragons before their fall from power, as most did. A priest in their order. But unlike most, he turned against them. He made his own path, and his actions cost him dearly. The stories say he sought to claim Solstheim for himself, and the dragons destroyed him for it. Which is why it is impossible that Miraak has returned to Solstheim." Frea explained, after some thought, and I sighed internally, having received pretty much the same story from Aela. At least the stories corroborated, though, and I pressed on, this time asking if she was alone. Her response was an illuminating: "There are few of us unaffected by this curse. My father Storn, the shaman, protects them in the village. I fashioned an amulet to guard me against whatever has taken hold of the Skaal, but it is the only one of its kind. If I cannot find a way to save them, there is no hope for our people."
Unfortunately, as I mulled over the implications that there was a means to protect large groups of people from whatever curse had befallen them, Aela called out a warning, we heard footsteps approaching us, and from a ramp near the centre of the crater a bunch of masked cultists ascended. In the split second of surprise the masked group partook in before they were brutally engaged, I had just enough time to muse that, even though my information gathering would be temporarily halted, at least now we knew where the entrance was.
-SECRET ROOM, DINING HALL, TEMPLE OF MIRAAK, FOUR HOURS (AND TWO SMALL ARMIES) LATER-
"Remind you of anything?" I subconsciously murmured at Lydia as the last draugr and cultists finally fell where they'd rushed us, and I took a moment to catch my breath, check on my weapons, watch Aela loot the bodies, and study the secret room we'd discovered linked to the temple's dining hall.
"I do not recognize this statuary. We passed a few of them earlier, but they are becoming more frequent as we get further in. I do not like this place. It almost looks as if these statues will come to life at any moment." Frea said in her distinctive accent, apparently thinking the question was directed at her, and as she inched away from the fish-looking toothed statues under the pretext of checking on our wounds and healing us, I gave the Skaal another look, internally evaluating her performance as a warrior thus far.
It had become pretty apparent to me that, despite whatever views Lydia and Aela had attempted to impart upon me thus far, the Skaal were actually in possession of decent martial skill, something which in hindsight I should probably have figured earlier; a tribe does not live in limited isolation on the frozen part of Solstheim without developing decent survival skills, after all. Furthermore, despite Frea's stated reluctance to fight ("We Skaal are not like you. We do not seek adventure, we wish only to live in peace and to honor our traditions." Frea had responded calmly if not loftily, in response to Aela's more hot-blooded proddings as we'd entered the temple), she had proven more than capable of making up for her supposed pacifism and mediocre martial skill (although I was probably more than biased after having witnessed Aela's ability to split an arrow from almost half a kilometer, as well as having spent time with Lydia, whose pure swordplay abilities outclassed my own) with a surprising bloodlust and brutality which shone through when not repressed, as well as an exceptional healing ability which she used to great effect. Even Lydia had grudgingly admitted that she fought well enough, "for a Skaal", as she'd watched Frea pick up a severed draugr's arm and use it to bludgeon two cultists to death, trusting in her armor to guard her from most physical blows, and in her Restoration spells to make up for the few lucky blows that made it through.
"Those statues, my Thane?" Lydia said with a prod, knowing me well enough to know my mind wasn't focusing on her if she didn't, and as I looked at her she pointed from the trio of fish-faces to the biggest statue in the next chamber, and continued: "Not as much as the blob with a dozen eyes and claws, I'd say."
"So I'm not imagining it, then." I said ruefully, quietly recalling the second Word of the Dragon Aspect Shout I'd just learned in this temple, and the place I'd learned the first Word at. Frea overheard our conversation and turned back to us, asking: "Have the two of you seen something similar to this before, then?"
"There was a hidden chamber in an abandoned mine we found, with a black book whose cover shares a resemblance that statue..." I replied uneasily, as the weight of the book in my pack reminded me of it's presence. Frea, fortunately, didn't seem too fazed or suspicious at my words, and luckily, before Frea could question us any further, Aela suddenly looked up, seemingly sniffing the air with a grimace, and beckoned us towards a side tunnel we hadn't really taken noticed of before. Exchanging a confused look, I shrugged and decided to follow; Aela's uncanny, almost supernatural, senses hadn't led us astray so far, and she'd been able to detect and shoot quite a few patrols before I'd even heard their footsteps. This time, however, instead of leading us into yet another group of enemies (which would have been far better), she'd apparently sniffed out a dimly-lit room, with a pedestal in the middle, a weird statue at it's top, and housing a black book with a cover depicting a creature with more tentacles and claws than anything else had; the Temple of Miraak housed yet another Black Book.
I cursed at the revelation and contemplated Aela's suggestion of just burning it even as Frea studied it, and announced: "There are dark magics at work here. Ready yourself. This book... It seems wrong, somehow... Here, yet... not. It may be what we seek."
"Yeah... I can believe this book's the key to finding out what's causing all of this..." Lydia said, and I nodded, recalling the creature from the wretched abyss. The little bit we'd seen of Hermaeus Mora had shown he had a way with influencing mortals, and by the numerous statues within Miraak's Temple it seemed that Miraak had fallen under his influence, too. How that all led to this was still beyond me, and as was probably Hermaeus Mora's plan, there was only one way to find out. Lydia saw the look of determination on my face as I cautiously approached the book, and protested: "My Thane! You can't seriously be considering reading it!"
"I don't like this plan at all either, whelp; that book stinks of daedric corruption, and if you somehow were to fall under the same foul spell the rest have, I do not know how we'd restrain you." Aela chimed in, clearly concerned, before she then added: "And yet, you're probably our best bet of getting to the bottom of this..."
"Look at it this way, Lydia; it's the best way for us to stop this Miraak guy from trying to kill me anymore." I said with a shrug, trying to hide my apprehension, and in a surprisingly touching gesture Frea offered me her amulet with a subdued: "Take care, and on behalf of my people, I thank you for taking the risk. May this amulet protect you from whatever foul darkness lurks within the book."
"Thanks." I replied as I took the amulet, leaving out the characteristic snark I would have usually followed up with, and with a deep breath to calm my nerves I put on the amulet and opened the book. Immediately, to my complete lack of surprise, a thick green tentacle shot out of the black book, wrapped itself around my neck, and dragged me into the book.
-WAKING DREAMS, APOCRYPHA, OBLIVION, AS THE BOOK WAS BEING OPENED-
Miraak, First of Akatosh's Dragonborn, Follower of Hermaeus Mora, Former Dragon Priest, and current involuntary exile from Mundus was an unhappy Arch-Traitor to the Dov. Their original plan of luring the (relatively) recently-revealed Last Dragonborn to Solstheim with an assassination attempt to be abducted, taken into Apocrypha and have his power used to allow Miraak to finally return to Mundus had fallen through, as for whatever reason the Last Dragonborn still had yet to come to Solstheim, or Miraak's cultists were simply incompetent.
It mattered not, though; Miraak's cultists and the numerous inhabitants of Solstheim that were slowly falling in thrall to them were slowly corrupting the various All-Maker Stones around Solstheim, and channeling their power towards Miraak as a back-up plan towards escaping this realm of Oblivion, and as more and more of the stones were corrupted, Miraak's ability to influence Solstheim increased more and more. Miraak sighed as the power flowed into them, and subconsciously thought about enjoying the fresh, slightly ash-tinged air of Solstheim once more. Idly, Miraak wondered why the supposedly "all-knowing" Daedric prince of Knowledge had only waited until the Last Dragonborn had actually appeared in Skyrim, and thus left Miraak with little to no time to prepare or capitalize on his inexperience.
Catching themselves quickly, Miraak shook their head to clear their mind of such treacherous thoughts; Hermaeus Mora had saved them from the dragon's retaliation, after all, and moreover consciously thinking such thoughts within Apocrypha, Hermaeus Mora's personal realm of Oblivion, was not healthy for one's continued sanity or health. Once they were finally free from this wretched realm, then Miraak could finally re-establish their independence from their patron, but until then, it was safer to act as docile and manipulable as they could. Miraak didn't doubt their strength or power in the least, but even they knew that challenging a Daedric Prince in their personal realm of Oblivion was not a wise idea. Resolving to try and disguise their duplicity immediately, Miraak murmured one of their mantras to comfort themselves, and had just re-assured themselves with a quiet: "The time comes soon when..." when they felt the distinctive, indescribable feeling of someone materializing near them.
Thinking that it was one of the Seekers that had been sent out to Solstheim to oversee the corruption of the Stones, Miraak turned around, wondering why one would have returned to this point at an unscheduled time, and involuntarily let out a gasp of shock as an ebony-clad warrior materialized in front of them, before stumbling slightly. By the looks of it, this foolish mortal hadn't expected the journey, and was slightly disoriented. Then they studied the mortal further, and sensed little of Hermaeus Mora's presence on the mortal, most of which was concentrated within the mortal's backpack. There was something else that was just off, though, something that Miraak took a bit longer to recognize, but once they did, they could only demand in a shocked voice: "What? Who are you to dare set foot here?"
The Dragonborn in front of Miraak didn't have time to throw up a ward, and Miraak gave him begrudging respect for merely grunting as their near-instinctive lightning bolts struck him and paralyzed him, an additional effect courtesy of Hermaeus Mora's forbidden knowledge. As the Dragonborn in front of Miraak looked up and glared at them, Miraak finally got a good look at the Dragonborn they'd spent quite a bit of manpower and time trying to lure, and was unpleasantly surprised at how defiant the Dragonborn looked; by the looks of things, rather than Miraak just being unique, the stubborn willpower reflected in his bright green orbs were just characteristic of Dragonborns in general. They also couldn't quite place where in his ancestry such dark hair had come from, but then again Mundus had probably changed a lot in the thousands of years they'd been gone, and walking and talking cats and lizards wouldn't surprise them either at this point.
"Ahh... You are Dragonborn. I can feel it. And yet..." Miraak murmured, the spell on their mask automatically lowering their voice to low, menacing levels. Looking back into his bright green orbs to double-check for the black spots characteristic of Hermaeus Mora's blessings, Miraak gazed into the Dragonborn's aedric soul, and was once again surprised, this time at how large and strong his dragon's soul was, having obviously feasted well. And yet, there was a clear immaturity, presumably brought about by the fall of the dragons after the Dragon War, and thus the disappearance of most of their knowledge. Miraak hadn't been around to witness it, but some of the Seekers over the millennia had shown them books detailing what little bit was known about the event. Presumably, unlike Miraak who had been taught by the dragons as a Dragon Priest, knowledge of the Thu'um in the Last Dragonborn's days was lacking, if not jealously guarded and hoarded by the few who knew of it's true power.
Another treacherous thought crossed Miraak's mind, and this time they actually considered it. If this Dragonborn was really that immature and lacking, what if Miraak were to capture, indoctrinate, and train this new Dragonborn, as a sort of disciple or high priest of Miraak's? Well, first they'd have to capture and break in the Dragonborn, but if it was successful the new Dragonborn would serve as an excellent warrior for Miraak's, as well as a potential ally against Hermaeus Mora should the Daedric Prince take offense at their thoughts. And if they couldn't be broken in? Well, their power would then just be used to fuel Miraak's and hasten their escape from this realm as was originally planned. There was little risk in subduing them, and Miraak was more than strong enough to deal with the Dragonborn anyway. Deciding to put on a show of force to try and intimidate and impress the Dragonborn, Miraak first began with a statement of begrudging respect, calculated to butter up the Dragonborn while highlighting how little he'd actually done: "You have slain a great many dragons, I see. And yet... You have no idea of the true power a Dragonborn can wield!"
"MUL QAH DIIV!" Miraak Shouted, demonstrating the full power of the Dragon Aspect Shout that they knew the Last Dragonborn could never have known (as the third Word Wall that would have shown it's full power was hidden in Apocrypha, and the dragons would have had no reason to ever teach it on Mundus). Much to Miraak's displeasure, though, the Last Dragonborn remained apparently unmoved, and Miraak's pride was wounded as they heard a scoff from their prisoner. It was time to double down, and show just how futile fighting Miraak was. "This realm is beyond you. You have no power here. And it is only a matter of time before Solstheim is also mine. I already control the minds of its people. Soon they will finish building my temple, and I can return home."
Miraak's spiel was interrupted by defiant laughter from below them, and as they looked down in displeasure at the insect on the ground, the Dragonborn spoke, in a voice perhaps only they knew was more shaky and insecure than it sounded: "Well, there goes my plans to try and ask you for help. What is it with all you megalomaniacs and speeches, anyway? There's even the transformation sequence Harkon had!"
"Take him to my chambers." Miraak growled, thoroughly displeased with this show of defiance. Quietly comforting themselves with the thought that there was no point in breaking in prey that wasn't strong-willed, they turned back to the black-haired Dragonborn as four Seekers floated towards him, and said: "The rest of Tamriel can await both of our arrivals."
"FUS RO DAH!" The Dragonborn on the ground Shouted at the closest Seeker floating to him just as Miraak had begun to turn away, and as Miraak watched with grudging approval the Last Dragonborn got up, shaking off the paralysis of Miraak's shock spell, and a hasty ward blocked the Seekers' spells. He then drew a massive bronze sword with red highlights, and with a downward swing that lodged the sword within a second Seeker a red beam was suddenly launched from the blade, and for the first time since the Razing of the Temple, Miraak felt pain as the beam impacted their face. The beam's cutting power had been reduced by the fact that Marius hadn't been able to do a full swing, and Miraak's ethereal dragonplate armor nullified most of it, but still, Miraak had been hit.
A small chunk of the Dragon Priest Mask Miraak wore fell to the floor, stained red, followed by a single drop of blood.
Miraak roared, outraged that someone had dared to cut them, and with a call to the enthralled dragon Sahrotaar to back them up, Miraak Whirlwind Sprinted into the Last Dragonborn (knocking the weird sword and the Seeker in their way into the waters of Apocrypha at the same time), a Dragon Aspect-enhanced hand raking across the Dragonborn's ebony breastplate, leaving behind claw marks. Before Miraak could follow up with another blow, or the Last Dragonborn draw his other sword to fight, however, the amulet around his neck suddenly glowed, and with that same indescribably distinctive feeling the Last Dragonborn suddenly disappeared from Apocrypha.
Miraak's screams of rage could be heard halfway across Apocrypha.
-SECRET ROOM, DINING HALL, TEMPLE OF MIRAAK, FIVE MINUTES AFTER THE BOOK WAS FIRST READ-
Gasping as I suddenly found myself back in Miraak's Temple with the Black Book in my hand, I immediately instinctively tossed the cursed book away, where it bounced off the wall. Nobody had told me it'd give me visions of Oblivion, or that it was some secret portal to Oblivion, and I vowed to burn all the Black Books I had in my possession. A hand tapped my shoulder, and I jumped as the overlooked Frea and Aela looked on in concern, and Lydia asked from behind me: "My Thane... are you alright? What happened?"
"Ye-Yeah... Yeah, I'm fine." I repeated, as much to reassure myself as my Housecarl, the other three occupants of the room looked at me in disbelief as Aela pointed out: "Yes, whelp... I suppose suddenly having your greatsword disappear and claw marks appear on your breastplate qualify as "fine" when you're the Dragonborn."
Cursing silently as I looked down and saw the physical evidence of my altercation for the first time (and thusly confirming that what I'd seen had been real), Frea spoked up, a hint of guilt tinging their tone of concern: "What really happened to you? You read the book and then... It seemed as though you were not really here. I could see you, but also see through you!"
"I'm not really sure. I saw Miraak commanding a dragon and some... creatures. He didn't take kindly to my intrusion." I admitted, deciding to leave out some of the more consequential actions Miraak had threatened on me; death was one thing, but I doubted Lydia would take kindly to hearing he'd wanted to turn me and use me as his lieutenant to take over Skyrim. Frea was excited by the news, and she pressed on with the questions: "Where? Where is he? Can we reach him? Can we kill him?"
"Somehow, reading this book took me to where he was. As for killing him..." I let my voice trail off; the claw marks on my armor spoke for me. Certainly, there was a way to reach him, but something told me actually killing him wasn't going to be as easy. Frea nodded in understanding, and passed me the accursed book with a twinkle in her eyes as she answered excitedly, before I could protest: "This is a dangerous thing, then. We should return to my village, and show this to my father. Perhaps Storn can make sense of what is going on. Come, there looks to be a way out through here."
As Aela and Frea led the way out of Miraak's Temple, I exchanged a glance with Lydia, and asked: "Do you feel like we're going to get caught up in yet another conflict with the fate of the world at stake again?"
Author's Note: And Aela's and Frea now a part of Team Dragonborn (possibly temporarily), Miraak's been revealed, and, perhaps the biggest reveal of all, Marius is actually aware of at least Lydia's feelings towards him. The last one was actually something I internally debated doing for quite a bit, before I eventually decided on going through with it, if only because an overly-dense protagonist is such an overblown anime stereotypical trope I decided to just let him address him just to set him apart. Of course, him being aware doesn't mean he actually knows how to respond, nor that he'll respond yet, and it especially doesn't mean that he'll monogamously reciprocate, or that he's aware of anyone else yet. Sorry to all the folks who may complain that, once again, Lydia seems to be getting the lion's share of the attention, but she did know him for the longest.
Marius's ability to study people is just an old skill he's honed during his time in the Thieves Guild, as a way to mark easy targets as well as learn how to exploit people and see when things are going his way, just in case I didn't actually hint that he's had this ability when he went to the Blue Palace, Elenwen's party, or the Ratway in Riften (I tried to, but it may not have been obvious).
One of the things I never actually understood was what Miraak's actual plan for with the Last Dragonborn, or why they just let the Last Dragonborn get away when they could have killed them right on the spot. And thusly, amulet ex machina was introduced; now, it's not that Miraak grabbed the Idiot Ball and just let Marius get away, but that Marius was dragged away by Frea's amulet.
For the love of all that is unholy, this story in general, and especially this chapter past Frea's introduction, got really hard to write; I'm starting to have to keep double-checking my notes, losing track of small plot details, and actually not knowing how to write the less-interesting parts of the chapter, or what to leave out. This is probably the first chapter where I've actually had to delete and re-write two-thirds to three-quarters of it, because bits of it kept feeling wrong to me.
And now we've now hit 41k+ views and 280 follows. How, I still don't know, but I think me writing an update on the milestones the story hits is going to get stale for some people, to which I apologise. I would typically only write when we hit milestones, but recently, by the time I'm putting out the next chapter, there's immediately a new milestone to hit, for which I thank all y'all who've apparently decided this story's worth the time taken to read it.