Chapter 2

Call of the Dragon

"Our hero, our hero, claims a warrior's heart. I tell you, I tell you, the Dragonborn comes," Bevallig sang carefreely as she followed Miraak. Her voice was surprisingly smooth in contrast to her bulky appearance. Although it can be noted that her tone and pitch were amateurish at best.

Miraak drew his gaze away from the vast plains ahead of them to glance at his unwanted companion. "You sing of yourself, how narcissist of you," he mused. "A rather unfitting trait for a nordic hero such as yourself, no?"

"Ah shut up, what if I was singing for the previous Dragonborns? Whom the song was written for," Bevallig retorted as she held her hands on her head.

"But the song was written with your prophecy in mind," the dragon priest pointed out. His eyes looked back to the plains and were drawn to what seemed to be a shack of some sort just at the horizon, on the outskirts of some trees.

Not looking at what drew his attention, Bevallig sighed at his words. "The song is just catchy, alright? Especially when sung by a good bard... Divines, what I would do for a chance to hear her voice again."

Not bothering to pay any more mind to her, Miraak focused on the shack and summoned words to his lungs. "Wuld Nah Kest!" he shouted as his form rapidly accelerated.

"Oi! What the fuck! I thought we had a truce?!" Bevallig cursed as she began her chase. "Wuld Nah Kest!"

The sun was slowly dipping to the far horizon.

Miraak stared at the strange-looking house and then looked behind the building to see a village a fair distance from it. Must be an outcast, he noted as he took a glance at the plains around him. Or an outpost.

"So you weren't running away, glad we're improving on that front," Bevallig chirped happily as she walked past him. "As a more socially inept person, I'll do the talking."

The dragon priest grumbled some obscurities but didn't bother rejecting as he simply crossed his arms. "Do as you will," he grunted.

The nordic woman smirked as she knocked on the door. "Hello? Anyone in?" she asked as she took a peek into the house through a tinted window.

Eventually, the sound of footsteps thudded towards her and soon the door opened to reveal a beautiful woman with brown hair and blue eyes. "May I help you?" the woman asked.

"Yo, I'm Bevallig nice to meetcha!" Bevallig introduced herself with a big, friendly smile. "The sunset is beautiful isn't it?"

"Why yes, it is," the brown-haired woman mused. "The mountains do tend to be brilliantly beautiful when the sun sets behind them."

Miraak took a look at the sunset behind the house, taking note of the truth in her words.

Bevallig's smile merely widened at the exchanged pleasantries. "I know this may seem weird but mind telling us where we are?" she asked.

"That is certainly a strange question to ask," the woman mused, causing Bevallig to wince a bit. "But that aside, we are west of Orario. So if you travel by the roads adjacent to the mountains on the horizon, you will find the city."

"Orario?" Bevallig asked in confusion. She sent a glance at Miraak who merely grunted, in what seemed an admission of ignorance or dismissal. Oi! I am doing this for both of us!

"Do you not know of Orario?" the woman asked in growing confusion and befuddlement.

"Uh..."

"We do not know of a city of Orario," Miraak spoke up, his distorted voice seemingly causing a small twitch from the woman. "Do you happen to know of any other names of the city?"

"This rather strange..." the woman noted as she thumbed her chin. "Why don't you both come in, I may have some old maps that could help you."

"Sure, lead the way," Bevallig replied as she followed.

Miraak remained suspicious of the woman, his intricate knowledge of the arcane allowing him to take note of the walking sea of mana within their hostess. He grunted in annoyance and self-admonishment, after all, what can a frail woman do to demi-gods such as he and Bevallig?

Why remain suspicious of a woman he or Bevallig could easily kill?

After finishing rationalizing his thoughts, he entered the abode and shut the door behind him. His strides were full of their usual arrogance.

While Miraak strode in with the arrogance of a peacock, Bevallig walked in casually behind the woman. "Say... I don't think I caught your name," she said as she shifted her helmet in her grasp.

"Oh! Where are my manners! My name is Astrea, nice to meet you," their kind-looking host introduced herself with a serene smile. She then gestured to her comely abode. "Please make yourselves comfortable as I get the maps from the storage."

Bevallig smiled cheerily as she sat her helmet down on what she assumed to be a dresser. "Thank you very much for your hospitality," she said in appreciation. "And your help of course."

"No problems, I know well of the weariness that travels bring," Astrea replied in empathy before moving up the stairs to the second floor.

Once their hostess had vanished, Miraak mused to Bevallig, "The craftsmanship of this place is rather well-made." He traced his gloved hand over a well-cushioned couch, his mind noting the lack of any imperfections in its design.

The nordic woman shrugged at his words. "Who cares," she waved off. "Anyways, do you think she has some mead on her? I am damn thirsty right now."

"You speak like a true Nord," Miraak mused as he sat down on the couch, still fascinated by its craftsmanship, "substituting water for the poison of alcohol."

"Roleplay is fun, you should try it now and then," Bevallig mused as she sprawled herself over the table. Her unarmored chest cushioned itself on the polished wood of the table. "Ugh, why does it have to be so big..." She groaned as she hit her forehead on the table.

"Roleplay?" the dragon priest inquired curiously. "As in a play?"

The last Dragonborn turned her head to face her lazed counterpart. "Yeah, something like that. I learned a thing or two from the bard's college before I went to Solstheim." She started to swing her legs as boredom began to take over her. "Surprisingly enough, they provide limited acting classes."

The ancient man thought on the idea a bit before asking, "Then what is your true self?"

Bevallig thought for a moment before a cheeky grin formed on her face. "Why don't you find out, champion of Hermaeus Mora?"

Miraak huffed in what seemed to be amusement before a small chuckle erupted from him. Realization dawned upon him as he discerned the true nature of roleplay.

"What's so funny?" she asked, confused at his mirth.

He refused to elaborate instead, he got himself more comfortable. The knowledge that they could not harm each other and the new understanding of her allowed him to become lax.

Footsteps from the stairs soon announced the return of Astrea. In her arms, she bore a few scrolls of varying parchments.

Noting this peculiarity, Miraak's lax attitude soon disappeared as a cold, calculating mindset began to take over. His meticulous gaze was steady in his scrutinizing stare.

"Here we go," the plain woman said as she put the scrolls on the dining table. "These are all the maps I had lying around."

Bevallig looked over them, an uncharacteristic diligent gaze scanning each one. This ain't Skyrim, she noted with slow-growing dread.

"Is there something wrong?"

She turned to Astrea and gave a sheepish smile to their benevolent hostess. "I don't think I can read," she revealed, laughing heartily to cover up her embarrassment.

Miraak, underneath his mask, raised an eyebrow at her words. He stood up, turning to the two women, and then approached. "As expected from a barbarian such as yourself," he coldly scoffed as he made his way to the mass of parchments.

Yet, when he laid eyes upon the maps, he too felt a slight feeling: elation.

The maps of, what seemed to be, a continent did not have a shape that sparked recognition in either of their minds. Be it Nirn, Akaviri, or the Daedric Realms, he did not see any resemblance.

The gears in his mind began to turn as he drew his attention away from the maps and to the words, their alphabet almost completely alien to him. Yet, he had already deciphered a handful of letters with just a glance at the first map he laid his eyes upon.

Bevallig, on the other hand, groaned as she gave up and sprawled herself on the table once more. "Ugh... Looks like we're not in Nirn anymore..." she remarked with annoyance.

Miraak's eyes shined with excitement, an old feeling once again welling within him. An unknown land? Adventures to be had in this world? Societies to topple, cultures to observe, and knowledge to be accumulated?

He chuckled as adrenaline coursed through him, anticipation at what he expected to come. "Haha!" he finally laughed, unable to contain his bursting excitement.

"He has truly gone insane," Bevallig deadpanned, a bit put off at the laugh.

Astrea looked at the masked man with concern. "Are you alright?" she asked, displaying said concern but without a hint of nervousness.

"It would seem... We are alien to your world and language," Miraak declared as he grabbed the shoulders of the woman. "Teach me," he demanded as he stared into her eyes, his golden draconic eyes meeting her oceanic blue. "Gal Hov-"

"Oi, oi, oi! Shut the fuck up!" Bevallig shouted as she pulled their hostess out of the psychopathic Dragonborn and shielded her. Her 6 foot 2 height unintentionally caused her to smolder Astrea in her bosom. "You're such a fucking asshole, you know!"

"Give her here! She is a well of knowledge that we can exploit to learn the ways of this world!" Miraak declared excitedly as his body froze up, certainly due to the cracking lightning in his hand that he was about to unleash on her. His form towering even over his already tall female counterpart

"Or we can ask nicely and have some mead over it!" the nordic woman declared, unafraid of the growing menacing presence of Miraak. "So why don't you sit your pretty little- Ah!" her little declaration was interrupted as a rather strange feeling welled within her chest. "Ugh... Don't breathe so hard there... Oh! Sorry!"

Astrea, the poor woman at the center of their struggle, finally was allowed to gasp for air as Bevallig let the tight grip on her go. "It is quite alright," she said, her smile a bit strained.

Bevallig blinked at the strange reaction, finding the chuckling a bit weird for a woman nearly suffocated to death by her breasts. She shrugged, dismissing the strange behavior. "Anyways... Where was I? Oh! Ahem..." she cleared her throat as she got back what she was saying before the interruption, "-little ass down before I huh... Bash you again!"

Miraak growled in annoyance, finding her advantage in that little fact infuriating. For while they couldn't harm each other directly, that seems not to apply to more indirect or unintentional means...

"Then try your best!" he declared with a massive grin behind his mask. "You cannot do such a thing against me anymore, woman!"

"Hah?! Then fuck-" As she readied herself to charge, she felt her body freeze up from the effects of the Bend Will shout. "Motherfucker!" she screamed in the realization of what happened. "Why?! It worked last time!"

"Because you intend to inflict it on purpose," Miraak declared, an aura of smugness emanating from him. "However, it would seem that does not apply to objects not on or a part of us..." His eyes glanced to the many well-made furniture that may be victims of the brewing bout.

"Please stop," Astrea interceded with a serene smile. Yet in contrast to that smile, a heavy atmosphere put pressure on them both. "I have a vague sense of what is occurring and I do not desire you two to destroy my home."

This divine energy! Miraak staggered, shock coursing through him. One of the divine?!

Bevallig similarly took a step back but more out of primal instinct rather than shock. Did I upset a god again?!

"It would seem I need to re-introduce myself. My name is Astrea, a goddess of justice," she stated with a smile. She then turned to Bevallig and the nordic woman only. "Are you a part of a familia already?" she asked.

"Familia...?" Bevallig asked, confused as to the true meaning of the word. "Family?"

"A family, yes," Astrea confirmed as she put a hand on Bevallig's shoulder, "but rather being bound by blood it is a family bound by a god."

"A religion?" Miraak asked curiously, his lust for knowledge dissipating any shock he had. His level-headedness channeled this desire into invigoration for discreet questions. "Why not call such a covenant its proper name?"

"Because we gods grant them a part of ourselves, allowing them to taste the power of divinity," the goddess of justice explained as she only glanced at the masked Dragonborn.

Both demigod's eyes widened as both realized the implications of such words. "Wait why would you give us your divinity?" Bevallig asked, her act giving way to an inquisitive expression. Which unlike Miraak held no lust or desire but simple curiosity.

"Roleplay," Astrea said cheekily, confirming that she had indeed listened in on their prior conversation.

Both immediately deciphered the meaning of her word. To put it more simply: boredom.

"On that end, would you, Bevallig, accept to be a part of my rather quaint familia?" she asked with a big smile.

Refusing a godly being, be it a Daedric prince or a divine, has given Bevallig a sort of stigma towards disregarding any offers of any blessing. Yet, as she laid bare to the goddess she couldn't help but feel a bit apprehensive. Her muscles tensed in preparation for an assassination.

"Relax," said goddess intoned as she sat behind Bevallig whose back was laid naked before her. "You are rather muscular," she mused as she traced her blood on the nord's back, "you must have lived your whole life-fighting."

"I guess..." Bevallig replied, a strange distanced tone in her voice. "In all honesty, fighting just happens to follow me wherever I travel to. Like there was this one time when I went to try mead for the first time and I accidentally started a bar fight. Eventually, it ended up with a dragon of all things swooping in and getting into the bar fight with the roof of the tavern getting ripped off."

"A dragon?" Astrea giggled a bit as she finished up her work.

"Yeah, a dragon! Later on, the villagers told me that I had even blinded it with alcohol in my drunken rage," Bevallig laughed as she leaned a bit more forward. "Back then, I was a serious milk drinker. One bottle and I find myself in a messy bar, the streets, or a random woods and never in a comfy bed."

"I see..." the goddess muttered as she finished her work and looked it over. "Given your claims of your adventurer spirit, I assume you will not stay long with me," she mused, her voice not shedding any melancholy.

"I mean, if the food is great I would love to stay... But I find that I kinda need to keep an eye on a certain masked villain," Bevallig replied, giving another reason as to why she would leave. "He will not stay long here even if we force him and he will undoubtedly cause some trouble here. Since I can't do much against him... I intend to annoy him and block him from doing anything bad."

Astrea hummed in amusement at her words. "Anything bad you say? How do you define that?"

"Well, I guess anything that would make the world more boring like creating armies to conquer the world, killing colorful innocents, or stealing my dragon souls," she listed thoughtfully.

The goddess of justice laughed a bit, finding Bevallig's definition of evil both childish but unique. Then with a small smile, she put her hand on the nord's back. "Before I finally grant you my Falna, I have a request of you."

"A request?"

"A request."

Bevallig quirked her lips into a small frown, her prior experience with requests from gods coming to mind. "Sure..." she said hesitantly.

"It is nothing too big," Astrea soothed as she lost her smile briefly, pursing her lips. "I want you to take care of my last familia member in Orario... Or at the very least hand her this letter." She used her free hand to grab the letter from her lap and hand it to Bevallig. "I heard she has taken up occupation as a waitress in a tavern known as the Hostess of Fertility."

"So what's her name and face?"

"She is a blonde-greenish-haired elf with oceanic blue eyes. Her name is Ryuu Lion and I wish to let her know that she no longer has to carry her burden alone..."

"You want me to carry some of her burdens?"

"I know it to be selfish of me but essentially yes."

Bevallig thought on the proposition a bit. An elf working as a waitress maybe in a maid outfit? That sounds interesting... she mused to herself. "Sure," she finally said.

While it would increase the amount of shit she has to do, there was no doubt in her mind that she would refuse the request of the goddess who was already giving her an incomparable gift.

"Thank you..." Thus finally, Astrea's hands glowed with divine energy. Once the light died down, her eyes glued themselves to the mark on her new familiar member's back.

Miraak stared at the house in the distance, his yellow eyes taking in the sights once more. "I will see you soon, whelp," he said to it as the upper floor of the home glowed with divine light. Having seen this light show, he turned to the mountains once more and walked the path. "There, we shall finish our bout."

Chapter 2 End

Well, it would seem this story hasn't taken off well with some people cursing me out. Kinda hard to get actual criticism with that kind of review. /

Anyways, hope this chapter is satisfactory and if you have any gripes then say it now or forever hold your peace! Sorry for the long update times.

SaveTheWeak, out.