It had been Erik's suggestion to seek out Neloth before venturing in and out of Apocrypha.
"I know you haven't felt any different," he'd said, "but that can change. The more you're in there, the more it could mess with you. Neloth might not care what happens to you, but he'll certainly notice if anything happens to you."
She couldn't argue with that.
They gave the Dunmer the same line they fed the Skaal: she needed to know more before dealing with Miraak and with Mora blind to her presence, she was free to learn all she could in Apocrypha. Whether Neloth believed them, she didn't know, but he didn't turn her away. If anything, he was interested in the prospect of seeing first-hand the possible side effects of traveling to and from the Daedric realm so often.
Neloth provided her a room in which her body could sit comfortably while she spent time in Apocrypha and a promise that he would check her vitals and various other details he was interested in if she was gone for extended periods of time. Erik agreed to remain too-insisted actually, despite Telyra assuring him she was in good hands.
"I need to be there if anything goes wrong," he said. "And this gives me a chance to nose through Neloth's research. I might not understand half of it, but there could be something interesting."
"Nothing will go wrong," she promised.
It hadn't been enough to convince him otherwise. She didn't mind him being there to protect her: it gave her a sense of comfort she would never admit to since he'd never let her live that down, but it also left her with a pang of guilt. Stuck in a mushroom, sitting and reading, when she knew he wanted nothing more than to explore and properly earn his self-appointed name… but she quickly gave up the fight.
"All right," she said, settling down on a mat on the floor. She crossed her legs and placed the black book on her lap. "Wish me luck."
Erik leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed as he watched her with a forced smile. It disappeared just as she opened the book and the no-longer-shocking but no-less-disgusting tentacles swallowed her.
A harsh grunt escaped her as she landed on all fours on the familiar platform. Just as she had during previous visits, she heard the faint beating she knew to be wings. With little else to do, Telyra paced, switching between cracking her knuckles and playing with a conjured flame on her fingertips. Despite what assurance she gave Erik, a stone seemed to have settled in her gut, flipping with each passing moment as she waited for Miraak to arrive.
She expected her mind to be racing, bubbling over with thoughts and worries, but there was nothing but a constant hum. And a suffocating anticipation.
The wings had grown far louder and created several gusts of wind that whipped her hair around, the ends stinging as they caught her cheeks. His dragon finally landed, settling down several feet from her and causing the platform to whine with its weight.
"Mal dovahkiin," Miraak said as he dismounted.
With her lips pursed, she said, "I have a name."
He chuckled. "I am aware."
Miraak approached her and held out his hand; she grasped his forearm as he did the same.
"I was not expecting your presence so soon," he remarked, face still hidden behind that infuriating mask. "But I cannot say I am disappointed."
Telrya shrugged. "Seemed there was no point in drawing this out. I want off this dreary island as soon as possible. And Alduin is still an issue." She bit back a comment about Miraak being the reason she had to deal with the dragon in the first place.
His head tilted as he seemed to regard her. "You could have simply slain me that day on the beach," he said. "That would have been the end to all of this, and you would have been free to return to Skyrim. Yet you allowed me to live. Your remaining here is your doing."
She let her head fall back and sighed. "Yes, and I'm well aware that by not only letting you live but also agreeing to help you escape has only made things even more difficult for me." With a roll of her eyes, she added, "I've already received this lecture from my friend."
"Erik," Miraak said.
Telyra nodded briefly before crossing her arms. "You'll say his name, but not mine?"
Rather than offer an answer, Miraak asked, "My power aids me in hiding from Mora's gaze. How will you do the same?"
She pulled the amulet from beneath her tunic. "I'm hoping this'll work," she said. "It was given to me by the Skaal. They still think I'm here to kill you."
He didn't acknowledge her words beyond a simple nod. He held his arm out and gestured toward his dragon. "I have established something akin to quarters here," he explained. "Would you be so kind as to join me? There is little to be done here."
Her eyes bounced between Miraak and the cerulean dragon. "You want me to ride that?"
Again, he tilted his head. "You have seen me do so on multiple occasions," he replied. "Unless you would prefer to swim."
She glanced down, looking at the putrid slime through the gaps in the floor, and sighed. "Fine."
The dragon watched her step toward him, sniffing the air that wafted from her.
"Um, hi." Telyra gave an awkward wave.
The serpentine dipped his head. "I am Sahrotaar."
"Telyra," she said. "May I…?"
His belly pressed into the ground, granting her permission to climb onto his back, but even with his lowered stance, the stirrup was too high.
Miraak moved beside her and clasped his fingers together, squatting slightly. "I would rather not watch you struggle," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice.
"You're all sorts of snarky today," she remarked, quickly balancing her foot in his palm before he had the chance to retract his help.
Sahrotaar let out something that sounded like a snort.
Miraak chuckled as he hoisted her up. "I am simply eager to begin."
After she settled into the saddle, Miraak pulled himself up and did the same, leaving her little room on the seat.
"This definitely wasn't made for two people," she muttered.
"No," he said, "it was not."
His torso pressed into her back as he reached forward and took the reins. She felt his legs kick at Sahrotaar's side before relaxing against hers; the situation felt well beyond strange. Her hands scrambled to grasp the front end of the saddle, seeking anything for purchase as soon as the dragon pushed off the ground.
A sigh was released behind her. "I will not allow you to fall," he said, his arms squeezing closer to hers.
Despite his promise, her stomach seized in fear, but she swallowed down the nausea. To keep from thinking of slipping off and landing in the green sea, Telyra stared ahead and focused on the wind that whipped past them, the colors melding into one in her peripheral vision, the sturdy arms and legs that held her in place, the warmth he provided even against the chill that came with the breeze moving at such high speeds.
Each deep breath in seemed to settle her nerves, and as the rigidity of her body relaxed, so did Miraak's grip.
"This is actually amazing," she breathed.
Her eyes fell on the reins, watching Miraak's hands remain in place, not bothering to direct Sahrotaar. Eras of traveling to and from the same location, and one didn't often need directions. She wondered if Miraak would ever allow her to take control, guide his dragon wherever she wanted if they ever managed to get him and Miraak out of here. Flying over Solstheim, over Skyrim, over the mountains and seas… She couldn't wait to tell Erik; he'd tell her it was stupid to agree to something so dangerous, but there'd be an inkling of jealousy.
Their journey came to end, much to Telyra's disappointment. Once the fear of being airborne passed, she was elated, but the dragon descended and landed in an area that looked nearly identical to where she'd originally appeared.
Miraak slid down from behind her and held out his hand to help her do the same.
"Such a gentleman," she remarked as she took it and jumped down beside him.
He gave something between a huff and a hum before moving to undo Sahrotaar's saddle.
She watched as he reached up and around and under and expertly unclasped every hook, with Sarhotaar leaning this way and that to help, until finally the contraption landed with a heavy thud.
Now free, the dragon stretched its wings before pushing the saddle away and curling into a ball to rest. The action seemed far too endearing for something as dangerous as a dragon.
Miraak walked past Telyra and gestured for her to follow. He led her through an iron door, similar to ones she'd seen elsewhere in the realm, and down a corridor made of endless columns of tattered books. Just as any other time she'd seen these, she felt a strong urge to pull one of the books out, just to see if everything would come crumbling down. Several seekers wandered the hall, keeping watch but paying them no mind; a stark contrast to her original encounter with them.
He stopped suddenly and faced a solid wall. Before Telyra could question anything, he pressed his hand against the surface; a bright light emanated from his palm, and the wall began to shimmer before disappearing entirely. It revealed a large room that looked to be Apocrypha's equivalent to a study.
With a flourish of his hand, he beckoned her forward before stepping through himself and resuming the illusion.
Her eyes scanned the room. Shelves and piles of books, very unlike the ones that made up the walls, were scattered around, many with tabs of notes sticking out. And there were lights everywhere, noticeably brighter than those that littered the realm and provided just enough to see one's next step forward. Several tables stood in front of the bookshelves, many holding even more books but also stacks of notes. And in the center was a low seat that looked to be made of thousands upon thousands of sheets of paper. Telyra gaped, admiring how he'd manage to make even the dreariest of realms something close to cozy.
"Well," he said, startling her, "shall we begin?"
They walked forward in tandem, Telyra stopping at the first pile of books and grabbing the one on top. "The Doors of Oblivion," she read. She flipped through the heavily marked and dog-eared pages. "Anything useful?"
"No," he replied from a different table. "The author's master spent time here, but his experience offered me no solution."
"Then why so many notes?"
"I noted any instance of Apocrypha's or Mora's mention," he explained. "I had hoped being able to return to it at a later time would allow me insight I may have missed during my first read."
"Oh." She returned the book to the pile and looked around the room once more. "I don't even know where to begin."
In the corner of her eye, she saw him mirror her movements.
"Is it safe to assume you will not allow me to make use of the All-Maker stones once more?" he asked, his tone hinting that he already knew the answer.
Telyra merely scoffed. "Not by enslaving people."
"The Tree Stone remains under my control," he began. "I believe that can serve a purpose in my return. We will need to discover a means of amplifying its power without the remaining stones, however. And those that are building it are not under any illusion." He quickly added the last part at her glare.
"Your cultists, you mean," she said. "And they're just willingly following your command?" With a tilt of her head, she crossed her arms.
"It is rather easy to garner followers with a simple display of power," he explained. "You could do the same."
She rolled her eyes. "I have Erik following me. I don't need any more lives in my hands."
Miraak stepped around the table and stood in front of the nearby bookshelf. His hand ran along the spines of each book. "With a mass at your command comes power. And with power, you are able to right what you believe to be wrong, whether on as large a scale as the world, or as small as a mere village." He pulled out one of the books. "With enough power, you need not worry about anyone stepping in the way of your plans. Such as destroying Alduin. I imagine the civil war occurring in Skyrim will complicate matters."
"That sounds like an abuse of power," she said. "Like tyranny."
"Not a poor word choice," he admitted, "but is that so wrong?"
"No one person should have all of the power," she retorted, furrowing her brow.
"And why not?" He turned to look at her. "Do you not know right from wrong? Would you not do all you could to ensure your people prospered? That nothing posed a threat to those you loved?"
"Doesn't every tyrant sustain themselves on the belief that they're doing what's right?" she asked. "That only they know what's best?"
"Perhaps," he admitted, "but within their actions, one can see the nature of their intent. And if such a person were allowed to rise to a level of power in which they could not be removed despite their acting in self-interest, then do the people who did nothing to stop them not deserve their fate?"
She frowned, watching him as he moved to the center of the room. "Not everyone can see below the surface."
"I suppose that is the risk you take when placing your trust in others," Miraak said before settling down on the sofa-like structure.
"They say you were a cruel tyrant," she remarked, grabbing a random book and sitting beside him. "Only interested in gaining the power the dragons held over you so you could do the same with your followers." She watched for any reaction, but he offered none but the flip of a page.
"History is not often kind to those that have lost." His words were in monotone, like it'd been a thought he held often and grew tired of. He turned to her and sighed when he found her still staring at him. "You are going to request further detail."
Not a question, but she nodded regardless.
Miraak closed his book and set it on his lap. "Such as?"
Pursing her lips, she thought a moment. "I guess the basic question would be: Why? Why do they call you a tyrant if you weren't?"
"By its definition, I was," he retorted. "At least, in the end. But there was no technicality in their purpose for use of that word; it was used simply to tarnish my name because, as you just confirmed, it is often associated with cruelty and ill intent."
She opened her mouth to ask what he'd meant by 'in the end,' but he continued before she had the chance.
"I had amassed an impressive grouping of followers, and given that I had done the impossible and sought freedom from our dragon oppressors, they very rarely questioned my orders." His head fell back against the seat as he continued. "Perhaps looking from the outside in, it appeared as though I was a cruel tyrant, as they said. It seemed I sent my people to their deaths for the sole purpose of retaining my power. While I could not allow the possibility of relinquishing what I had gained, it was not simply for the sake of holding such power. Power without purpose means nothing. I needed to remain strong so my people could be free.
"And when the prospect of freedom lies solely in the hands of a single man," he continued, "one of the simplest means of discouraging people from seeking to join such a movement is to discredit that man. A leader whose supposed cruelty is unfamiliar is often less preferable to one you already know."
Telyra sat and listened, her mouth partially agape as his words settled in her mind, furthering her belief that she had, in fact, made the right decision to help him. Assuming he wasn't lying, but she felt the honesty in his words, the faintest hint of hurt.
"History is not wrong to call me a tyrant," Miraak said. "But I was never cruel to my people."
"What did you mean when you said 'at least, in the end'?"
His head turned just slightly to glance at her before returning to stare up toward the endlessly high walls of books. Silence hung between them, but it was impossible to know his thoughts when hidden behind his mask.
Finally, he sighed. "I was betrayed," he explained. "Betrayed by someone I believed to be a very dear friend. After his leaving, I did not allow anyone to share in my power for fear of further infiltration. But the damage had already been done, and despite my efforts in ensuring his treachery would not benefit the dragons, he used what he had learned to end my rebellion."
"Vahlok," she said. "The 'Guardian.'"
His head turned toward her. "You have read the book."
Telyra nodded as a blush settled in her face.
"The Guardian and the Traitor," he spat. "I do not fault the author for the lies he had been fed, but it does pain me to read such things and to know that others have as well, only serving to further the slander cast upon my name."
"If it's any consolation," she said, feeling a touch of guilt for having read the book, "I'm more inclined to believe your version." She smiled and began listing things on her fingers. "Despite the mind control, and the stealing of my dragon souls, and believing tyranny is okay if done for the right reasons, and attacking me the first time we met."
He gave a soft laugh, ending it with an amused hum before returning to the book on his lap. "You remind me of him."
Her eyes narrowed. "I hope that's not you saying you're expecting me to turn on you."
"I always suspect such things," he admitted. "But no, it is not that aspect of him that you bring to mind."