Cearbhail:

Ugh... I hate it when I use the wrong doc for a chapter and don't discover it until... 7 chapters later. Well, here we go then.

=^^= Oh and Enjoy...


[Vara]

"Is it ready yet?" I looked down at the massive cauldron that was boiling our lunch. Our hunting party managed to score some deer today, and even if we manage to get a successful hunt every few days, since we don't have to do it every day, we usually end up with a few rabbits. Last night's raid was a boon, that's for sure. Wheat bread was baking in the pan as I stood look over the pot.

Ligau was kneeling next to me, warming his hands in the small fire. Ligau was a Cathay with jaguar spots. He was dressed in his usual leather armor, his longbow thrown over his shoulder. He was always the one that ended up cooking. He had a nose for it, and we took advantage of it. He was one of our archers, and even though he's assigned the role, he's not the best archer. That title goes to Zoatu. She's the best archer we have. She's pretty quiet though. She doesn't really like talking to me or to Vhijjira, but she enjoys talking to Ligau. From what I know about the two of them… they basically grew up together in Rimmen with some woman by the name of Nieri.

I knew better than to look around the camp for Zoatu; she was out scouting. She'd only come back if she had news of approaching Imperials. That was unlikely though. We're in Elsweyr's desert, actually closer to Rimmen than we were Leyawiin. All the stolen grain we obtained, we used either for baking bread or gave to Chagicho to take to Rimmen to trade for moon sugar. He wouldn't be back until nighttime, I'm sure.

Our leader, Hanjiir-dar, was leaning against a rock, getting a small catnap in before we had dinner. Today was a busy day, evading Imperial patrols that were trying to find the bandits that burned the crops of the farm outside Leyawiin. We sent Vhijjira into Leyawiin to access the damage, and it was actually worse than we thought. While we were… celebrating our victory, all the Khajiits inside Leyawiin were slaughtered. They weren't killed by the Count, or anyone in the Empire. They were killed by Shadowscales. We know this because there was a knife stuck inside one of the Khajiit children. His eyes were red, and we all know what that means… when we smoked the town, the boy, heightened by moon sugar… accidentally unlocked his gift. A Shadowscale in the town noticed this… and did what they do to Khajiits like me. They killed him. He was seven. Not even old enough to sharpen his claws on the hide of a cow. And I guess the assassin killed the other Khajiits either to mask their assault… or to prove a point. It doesn't matter now. I already hate the Argonians. I hate that they hunt Khajiits like me. I want to march into Black Marsh and cut all their throats.

That's why I want to take Leyawiin back in the name of Elsweyr. I also want to prove a point. That we'll be right next door to them, and that I'm waiting for them. Any Argonians that think they're strong enough to invade us again… will meet me. And I'll show them what the fuck I'm made of. I'll make sure each and every one of them have a second to contemplate their actions, and the consequences of starting another war with us. I just wish… I just wish I wasn't the last one, you know? As far as I know, I'm the only one that has red eyes, save my mom and grandma. But… Mom doesn't want to fight anymore. She's tired of it. And with the news I've been hearing of orange-robed monsters killing people, she'll be busy enough as it is.

My thoughts returned to me as the crystal ball in my pouch started vibrating. I reached into my pouch and pulled it out. The image of the frequency appeared on my ball, and… it's one I've never seen before. I scoffed as I shoved my ball back in its pouch. I let it vibrate until it finally stopped. I'm so sick of these crystal ball companies getting my frequency and try to sell me stuff I don't need, like pills to make my dick bigger.

"Who was it?" Ligau looked over to me, eyeing my pouch.

I shrugged. "Wrong freq. I don't know them."

"Could be your grandma using a new crystal ball." He offered to me. "Or your mom."

Yinoi, our youngest member, just one year younger than me, curled her legs up at hearing the word 'mom'. Her mom was killed during the Firefly Nights, and she was still a little sore whenever she thought of her. It's been a little more than six months since then, and we're still feeling it. The Firefly Nights was a three-day assault led by Imperial forces trying to take back Leyawiin after a bunch of us revolted. It was that revolution and the Firefly Nights that led to the creation of our Reclamation cell. Everyone here in this camp, was somehow tied into the Firefly Nights, except Ligau and Zoatu. They were assigned to our squad from the Rimmen branch.

As Yinoi started crying, Vhijjira, who was sitting right next to her, hugged her close. They're always next to each other. They were best friends in Leyawiin, and after Yinoi's parents died, Vhijjira basically became attached to her side. It was good to see both of them comforting each other after the past few months of trying to escape the wrath of the Imperial Legion. If these orange-robbed creatures are causing havoc, great. Less Legion to deal with.

Ligau looked over to Yinoi, and his ears folded back. "Oh… sorry, Yi. I didn't mean…"

I shook my head, trying to distract Ligau from making the situation worse with Yinoi. "I ditched that crystal ball. They don't know the frequency to this one." I looked up at the sky. "We're in range of Rimmen's skooma den. I bet it's an ad for their newest flavor, or something like that."

Hanjiir-dar lifted up his hood, looking me in the eye. "It could have been someone from the scouting unit. You should have answered."

"They would have called your ball, sir." I reminded him. "Or Zoatu's, or Ligau's. They're the communication links to the rest of the Renrijra."

He seemed to consider that. "Yeah. Still, you should call that freq back. It would be what a responsible adult would have done."

Ohh, he's playing on my need to be recognized as an adult. I groaned as I picked out my crystal ball. I thumbed in the frequency that reached out to me and let it ring. It took only a second before it picked up a single voice calmly saying, "This is an automated recording from Starry Skies. Are you tired of the boring taste of Crusher's Fix's three different flavors of skooma? If you are, Starry Skies is offering their newest flavors: Blueberry Depression Crusher, Strawberry/Banana Bonanza, Very Barely Vanilla, Cuckoo for Coco Puffers, and for the ladies, Pecan Nutcracker Blast. Of course, there are the older fan favorites…"

I smirked as I closed the link, glaring at Hanjiir-dar. "Wow… that last one does sound good though. I could use a good nut-buster after having to listen to that."

He chuckled as he sat up. "There's the fire in your voice. I was almost worried. Ever since we heard about the boy… you've been… not you." He nodded to me. "I know it bothered you, Vara. There aren't a lot of you left, and… it's hard being one the few to hold onto that legacy."

Scurch, who was one of our older members, scoffed under his breath. Scurch didn't… talk much. He took a flaming arrow to the face and it burned half of his face, and it kind of damaged his throat, so… talking doesn't work as well for him. He mostly grows and groans out single replies to any questions he's given. So, for him to scoff like that, it was a significant gesture for him.

We all looked over to him, and the entire camp fell into silence. Scurch was sitting up, leaning towards us. He waved his hand over to Vhijjira, our resident mage. She hurried over to him, placing her hand on his throat. There was a slight light glow coming from her hand, one she uses for healing.

Scurch started growling something out, which threw him into a coughing fit. He stopped after a few seconds, and then looked over to me. "Not… alone…" He managed to growl out before going into a coughing fit. "More… than… know." He pointed to himself. "Me…" He nodded his head. "clan."

That was enough for him, and he waved Vhijjira away, which she responded by bowing to him as she backed away.

I was stuck there, looking at Scurch as if I just not noticed him. Never… not once, did he ever mention this to us, not even by drawing in the sand with a stick, like he normally does. I just had to clarify.

"Wait… you're… an Akhalyte?" I pointed to him.

He hesitated before closing his eyes. He snapped them open, and they were bright crimson. He blinked again, and they were back to their normal amber color.

That just… blew my mind. I didn't expect that to happen, not today of all days anyway. The entire camp was just sitting there, mouths dropped in awe, even Hanjiir-dar, who never seems surprised by anything we do or say, was wide-eyed. There aren't many of us left, probably less than ten or so… and yet, right here in this camp… were two of us. Two! That's more than most towns have anymore. We're a dying breed, thanks to Black Marsh, but… at least, there are two of us left.

I smirked. I leaned forward, nudging to him. "Hey. How about the two of us… you know…" I winked to him. "sneak over to Black Marsh… maybe kill everyone there. End this war, once and for all?"

He almost chuckled, but settled for slapping his knee and then broke out his book that he writes notes in. He scribbled something down and then waved at me to join him.

I quickly jogged over to him, looking down at what he'd written. Mother and Mvar did that. They both died. This is a war of patience. We must survive until we're great enough in numbers to overcome their army once and for all. He nodded to me. He started scribbling something down. I watched as he wrote. Right now, our two families are all that's left. If we die… there won't be a next generation. You must survive to create children. I cannot, not anymore.

He gestured to his ball sack, and I knew immediately what he meant. It was during the Firefly Nights… when it all happened. Scurch wasn't always called Scurch. It was a name for one who was burned. And during the Firefly Nights, that flaming arrow that hit him in the face wasn't the only one that hit him. He took a few to the legs, and… well the heat did stuff to him. Some parts of his body weren't able to be healed. You can guess I'm talking about his balls. His balls were burned to a crisp. I knew that much about him, at least. I would know, I was the one that dragged the burning arrows out of his thighs. I was the one that threw him in the small lake as more arrows rained down into the town. Vhijjira was the one that healed him.

"Okay… it looks like it's done." Ligau quickly started pulling the cauldron away from the campfire. "Venison soup." He was almost drooling. "Ooh… it smells perfect." He sniffed a second time. "Hmm… maybe some more moon sugar."

Hanjiir-dar laughed. "There's always room for more moon sugar."

"I'll call Zoatu." He pulled out his crystal ball and gave her a call. "Hey, purr. Food's ready."

"Okay. I'm almost back to camp." She replied.

Ligau smiled as he closed the link. He looked over to the Khajiit digging through his rucksack. "Hey, Nohj. Do you have anything you want to add to this stew?"

He nodded. "Somewhere in here. Something for…" He looked up, lost in thought. "heat exhaustion? Sun… sun…" He scratched at his head. "sunflower? No, that's for… um…" He started lightly knocking himself on the head, as if trying to beat the thought out of his brain. "stoneflower petal!" He nodded as he went back into his bag. "Now… where is it? I have a bag of its petals somewhere in here." Nohj was the only Khajiit here that knew anything about herbs. He was also the oldest member of our cell. He's like… thirty something. I'm not sure really. But, his fur's just starting to turn gray around the face. He's an Ohmes, one of the lynx breeds, which are usually made from breeding a Suthay female with a Bosmer male. He never talked about his parents, so it's hard to know if that's how he was conceived or not.

Nohj pulled out a bag of crushed leaves. "This! This is what I need." He rushed it over to the boiling pot. "I will brew some tea for everyone. Chilled stoneflower tea, good for this heat."

Ligau rolled his eyes. "Ok, it's only the 14th of First Seed. It's not exactly freezing out, but it's still cold enough, even here in the desert. I think some hot tea might not be so bad."

Hanjiir-dar nodded. "I could go for some hot tea. The sun's an hour away from setting."

Nohj looked up at the sun as sun out to the west. "The chill will only be two hours away." He sighed.

I looked over to the sun. The clouds were a lovely orange, but I could see the approaching darker purple clouds. "Oh… rain." I looked over to Vhijjira. "So? Are you going to set up that rain shield spell of yours tonight?"

She nodded. "Yes. I'll get started once dinner is over."

Nohj looked up at the clouds, and he squinted his eyes. "Setting clouds turned red… blood has been shed today."

Yinoi started crying again, which caused Vhijjira to wrap her up in her arms again.

I growled as I looked over to him. "Yeah, a lot of people died today. In Leyawiin. We know."

Nohj looked over to me. "Not Leyawiin. West." He pointed towards the clouds. "Blood clouds." Nohj is crazy. It wasn't like there was some massacre somewhere out west of us.

I looked over to Ligau. "Okay, I'm tired of listening to this. Can I have a bowl already?"

He nodded. "Of course, Vara. Here." He handed me a bowl. "The storm's probably an hour away. I hope Zoatu makes it back before it reaches us. It looks like it's coming fast."

I looked back to the clouds, and they were racing across the sky. Orange clouds racing towards us. I wonder… if those stories are true, about the waves of orange creatures killing everyone. "We're really going to need that rain shield." I mused as I poured myself a bowl. Still… Nohj is a paranoid hermit. Just because a few clouds look red doesn't mean a lot of people died today out west of us.

[William Victorious]

What a waste of humanity. Hundreds of dead mages littering the cobblestone towers of Elinhir. The Blackcaster Mages of Hammerfell, what a joke. They believed they could stop the culling of the infectious disease of magick, and they were wrong. We left the safety of our hatching grounds, where the wound in the dimensional barrier was weak enough for us to slip through, but… only one at a time, and during small moments of the day, and headed for the Imperial City once we were strong enough to take it. And we took it, killing the leaders we could find. And then we headed west, to this town. Chorrol was a small stop for us, and… well… a lot of us didn't make it out of there. That Khajiit woman was… a problem that we need to solve later, for sure, but not today. Elinhir was one such town we wanted to reach and silence. And up next… Alinor. Once we finish our purge here, we'll head to Summerset Isles and make sure it doesn't exist after we're done with it.

A Redguard mage lay motionless at my feet, staring up into the sky with dulled eyes. She thought she could stop me with a spell of summoned swords. What she forgot was that those blades were made of Aedric material, the very magick I absorbed through the centuries of being trapped in the Aethereal trap realm set up by Mannimarco. Magick borne of Aetherius has no effect on us, nor does the magick borne from Daedric design. Such imperfect magick cannot stain our holy bodies, and while the Aedra feel themselves superior to humanity… I am a complex Aedric being. I was human turned Aedra by absorption in Aetherius.

I looked from the dead Redguard to my blue arm. It was once white, pale and frail. It now glittered with specks of golden magick. I wonder what my face looks like. Do I still appear as a Breton mage turned blue and gold? Or do I look like the other Sten'urian? Do I have the slit eyes of an elf, the pointy ears as well? Or the fangs and nose of an Orc?

I reached up to my ears, feeling the slight round/point of a half-elf's ears. I reached for my nose, feeling the small bump of a Breton's nose. I felt along my teeth, not feeling anything jutting out. I'm still me… just… blue and gold. I belt my hair hasn't grown since I 'died'. Am I immortal? Was I in that portal so long that my body naturally died? Was I suspended in time, preventing aging? Or… am I truly immortal now, only destroyable through physical means? Magick from humans has no effect on me, but I remember that one arrow I caught. It injured me, but… my body heals quickly enough that it doesn't matter much to me. I pull out the arrow and the hole closes. It's a nice benefit of being what I am. And yet… I hate magick. I hate what it did to my friends… what it did to our enemies. It corrupts you, makes you… less.

The Blackcaster Mages are a prime example of that. Elinhir, an entire town dedicated to the study of magick, turned into a dictatorship where the strongest mage has complete control over the town. If anyone disobeys him… they learn the direst of lessons. I suppose power is power… but a person with a sword is just that… a person with a sword. A person with a bow is just that… a person with a bow. A person with fire on his hands, and a mind capable of changing physical reality, or have the ability to grab you with his mind and snap you like a twig? There's no chance against someone like that for the regular folk. Even an army has folded to the likes of one mage drunk on his own power. This crusade is an honest one. We will purge this plane of all those who work magick. We will erase its existence from this world.

My fellow orange-robed Aedra were patrolling across the town, making sure everyone with a magical aura was dead. I heard a small scream somewhere in the town, and I looked for it. A small boy was lying under the rubble of a downed house. I almost wanted to run to him, reassure him that he would be fine. That wasn't the case, however. The Sten'urian walking past him raised his hand and quickly blasted him. There was a small explosion of blood blasting up from the rubble, and the scream ended. The Sten'urian didn't even looked phased. He just turned his head and continued his patrol, heading to the next house.

That was the one problem I have with the Sten'urian. They agree with me… this world needs purged, but… they're trying to set back the clock even further back than I wanted. They wanted humans and elves extinguished, even the intelligent beast races have to be ended. Only the lesser beings, the small animals, creatures, even monsters will be allowed to continue living. They feel that under their guidance, the next generation of civilized beings will be better off. I wonder if we'll end up in Akavir, delivering the same justice? I never got to visit the fabled land, but… to go there now and silence it, to end what the few emperors of Tamriel have started would be interesting.

"General Victorious." I heard the low grumbling voice of one of the Sten'urian. "The culling has been completed. Any residents here are too weak to feel the call of magick. Shall we double our efforts and see that all mortality has been extinguished?"

I thought of the boy… and the life he could have lived. And I shook my head. "I feel we've delivered a significant message. Let's regroup and continue to Alinor. Do the rest of troops feel fit for travel?"

The Sten'urian nodded. "We are ready, sir. This… place, Alinor… it is a city of sinners?"

I nodded. "Yes, the unholiest of cities. It's where the magick of the mortals was discovered, in the one nation that worships the practice more than the other races. If we go there, we will purge everything living there. There will be nothing that remains."

The Sten'urian smiled at hearing that. "You begin to sound like us. Have you come around to our views?"

I shook my head. "It's more complicated than that. The elves of Summerset Isles are a disease on this world. They worship magick and think they're the superior race of this world, and that everyone else is their toys to be played with as they please. They need taught a lesson, and the lose of their homeland will suffice."

"Shall we call on our other squads?"

The other squads of Aedra. There were two other waves traveling through Tamriel at the moment. One was north of everything, up near Atmora, the birthplace of humanity. No one's heard from that nation even when I was alive, and I guess that's the same right now. I wonder what that squad is finding up there? I wish I could have gone with them, but I needed to remain here, keeping watch over the Aedra in this group. If not just to make sure that I can save at least one human. The Imperial City at least has a few survivors. If nothing else, there will be someone remaining when we're done. And I know we left a few alive in Chorrol. Saving what Aedra I could and heading west seemed to buy them their survivors. And whatever remained of my old wave… well, I don't know what happened to them. They never regrouped with us. I'm assuming they're dead, but we can't go back just yet. Alinor must die.

The third wave was heading to Akavir. So, there's some good news there. My wave is taking care of most of Hammerfell, Cyrodiil, Valenwood, and Elsweyr. The upper wave will take out Atmora, Skyrim, and High Rock. The Akavir wave will return for Black Marsh and Morrowind once they've finished up.

I looked around the smoldering remains of Elinhir, the bloody bodies thrown across the ground. This wasn't I thought it would be like. When I joined this crusade, when I took charge of it, I thought… I'll be doing the world a service. And we are, but… the crying, the screaming, the blood, the death. This is not a path to walk lightly. And soon… it will come to fruition. Once Alinor falls, the crusade will be mostly over. I can relax once we end the remains of the Mages Guild and whatever the high elves have.

I exhaled, looking to my second-in-command. "Uur. Gather the rest of the soldiers. Wave formation. We'll strike Alinor by tomorrow morning, the sun at our backs as it rises over the east."

Uur nodded. "Yes, General."

Tomorrow… we'll have our day. And Alinor will pay for its crimes… whichever one it currently must pay for.


Cearbhail:

So, we got to meet Vara's friends. Don't get too attached though. I'm from 7 chapters in the future. hehe...