"You there. What brings you to this place? Why are you here?" The woman asked, hurriedly drying her face and stepping forward, away from her companion.
"Who are you?" Ren countered, still trying to wrap her head around the fact that this woman wasn't under the influence of Miraak.
"I am Frea of the Skaal. I am here to either free my people or avenge them." She murmured grimly, casting a look at the woman-Ysra-who remained praying.
"Save them from what?" Ren asked, hope bursting to life as she realized that this Skaal woman might know what exactly was going on.
"I am unsure. Something has taken control of most of the people of Solstheim. It makes them forget themselves….and work on these horrible creations that corrupt the Stones-the very land itself. My father Storn, the shaman, says Miraak has returned to Sosltheim, but that is impossible." Frea added quickly, shaking her head as if forcing herself to believe that logic had any relevance to this matter at all. Ren watched it with a small degree of amusement. She'd thought the same, once. But being forced into so many different, impossible situations had dulled it. She accepted most of what came her way now without any real consideration to whether it should be possible or not. There was a weapon that could blacken the sun. There were dragons in Skyrim. There was a key that could open doors that were not physical.
"Miraak tried to have me killed." Ren offered, seeing the intense look in Frea's eyes.
"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." There was no mistaking the regret lacing her voice, or the look she cast at the people again.
"You're here by yourself?" Ren asked, suddenly wary with the way Frea had spoken.
"There are a few of us left unaffected by this curse. My father, Storn, the shaman, protects them in the village. I fashioned an aumlet 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, then there is no hope for my people." Frea ended with a soft whisper, closing her eyes tightly as if warding off a bad image.
A lightning bolt exploded against the stone behind her, startling both of them. Two figures dressed exactly as the would-be assassins from Dragonsreach charged at them, one of them cursing. Ren drew her sword without another thought and charged.
"Shadows take you!" She roared, swinging down brutally. The person she attacked held only a staff and a dagger, and they raised their staff to defend themselves. There was a violent shock up her arm as her blade cleaved the magical piece of wood in half, but the tip of her blade caught them somewhere, because a tendril of ruby magic wound its way from her sword up her arm, and the numbing sensation vanished. Her attacker cried out in fear and staggered backwards-and then Frea was there, finishing them off. Seeing Frea had it under control, Ren bounced over to the other body and searched it. She found nothing of any real value, save a handful of coins, two lock-picks, and a cheap silver ring. She pocketed the items and straightened, catching Frea's look of disgust.
"What?" Ren asked defensively.
"I suppose outlanders have different customs than the Skaal do." Frea said frankly. Ren rolled her eyes.
"And I suppose you wanted to let it go to waste?" She replied. Frea shook her head.
"If your beliefs do not teach of how to properly handle the dead, that is not my business." Ren laughed at the pointed jab.
"My 'beliefs' do teach about handling the dead. If someone who you trust, or who trust you, dies, bury them in stone. If an enemy dies, take what you can from their cold and presumably dead corpse." Frea shuddered at her words.
"Come. Let us enter the temple before it gets any later." Frea said shortly, turning briskly on her heel and heading towards the open maw that Ren figured led to a flight of stairs. She sighed wistfully as the passing thought of sleep occurred to her, but followed.
Whoever this Miraak was, he knew how to torture people. The stair case was just the perfect length that, while it wasn't short, it wasn't long either, and by the time Ren had gotten to the bottom she felt like she'd walked a thousand miles, yet when she'd turned around, she had been horrified to see just how small of a distance she had really gone. Frea laughed softly at her groan of disgust, which resulted in the third round of glares since they'd begun walking down the stairs.
Ren was certain Frea was wishing she hadn't made the offer to her. Ren was used to getting stuck with people who had radically different ideals than she did, however, so she was far more comfortable than Frea was.
"Well, here's the door," Ren said lamely, gesturing towards the square structure in front of them. Frea ignored her and opened it, vanishing inside before Ren could say anything in return. Ren scowled momentarily, but followed.
It was a Nordic ruin.
"There might be something of use in one of these rooms." Frea murmured, heading into an opening to their right. Ren shrugged and went to the left. There were actually some pretty useful items scattered around it. Some powerful healing potions, a handful of valuable gems, and a couple hundred septims. That brightened her mood considerably. She put them away and went to find Frea. The Skaal was already waiting for her in the main hall, however.
"Are you ready to go?" Freak asked, although somewhat curtly. Ren spent a moment staring at the darkness looming ahead of them, and then sighed.
"Shadows preserve us, yes." Frea cast her a strange glance, probably wondering where the phrase had come from, but said nothing as she led them on. She stopped Frea just before Frea opened a door.
"Don't step on that." She said, pointing to a raised plate on the ground. Frea frowned at her but nodded, and they progressed onward.
Before they'd gone far in the room, a trio of Miraak's followers attacked. The fight was brief, but Ren sustained a wound to her upper left arm. A gentle pulse of healing magic solved that, although Ren was very antsy about Frea using magic on her. She only let those she trusted use power on her, which amounted to perhaps ten people in all of Skyrim-one of which was a pure-blooded vampire, another of which was a dragon that had died centuries ago, and the rest included a handful of people who couldn't even use magic. Needless to say, Frea did not rank among their number.
"Miraak was trying to take power here, and protect himself in the process…" Frea murmured. Ren didn't respond. While she wanted to know as much about Miraak as she possibly could, she was feeling a bit spiteful towards Frea's forced healing, and really didn't want to hear anything about it from her.
Serana would have slapped her for it. She wished Serana were here. She needed someone to slap her. Provided, of course, it wasn't Frea.
They emerged into a large room, caves dangling from the ceiling. Skeletons lay desolately within them, and many lay on the ground, broken and ancient. Being no newcomer to ancient scenes of unimaginable violence, Ren could easily pick out the discolored stone beneath each of the skeletons-or, in some cases, without a skeleton.
"I do not wish to imagine the kinds of things that happened in this chamber. Who were these poor souls trapped in these cages? What tortures did they suffer at Miraak's hands? Was it in service to the dragons, or for his own purposes?" Frea murmured. For once, Ren was in complete agreement with her. Frea looked around, and suddenly pointed. Ren followed her line of gaze to a flight of stairs entirely buried beneath rubble.
For the thousandth time, Ren found herself wondering what this place looked like in its prime, when its walls weren't broken and its inhabitants not dead.
"I have the utmost confidence that you can find your way through that." Frea said wryly, dropping her hand. She began investigating one of the skeletons immediately.
"I never told you my name, did I?" Ren murmured. Both of them had kept their voices hushed after entering the temple, but Ren suddenly became intensely aware of it. This was an unnatural silence, the silence of some great entity listening to the amusing mice that believed themselves so far above his control.
Miraak meant for us to come here, Ren realized.
"No." Frea slowly replied, staring at her curiously. Ren took a deep, calming breath before speaking her name.
"Ren. Ren Arex." Frea still regarded her strangely.
"What does your name mean to others, outsider? What weight does it carry to those who share your home?" The question surprised Ren. She remained silent for a long moment before answering.
"To some it means hero, or savior. Others look down at me for it. And then there are the people who know what it means, every facet and every version. Those are the people I call friend, family, or a very dangerous enemy." She added, glancing around the room again, certain she could feel the unseen listener's eyes upon her.
"Tell me, Ren Arex, why would someone look down upon you?" Frea asked, seeming to be honestly interested. Ren laughed softly.
"It's not a Nord name. It's not a woman's name. One of the first things I remember is a Bosmer by the name of Ren Arex sacrificing his life to prolong mine. So I took his name. Maybe tales of what I've done will reach Valenwood, and his family will revere him. It will be his tale that goes down in history, even if all of Skyrim knows I'm a woman, I'm a Nord, and they don't know who Ren is. And even that can be fixed with some gold." Ren felt strange, revealing this to a stranger, a woman who obviously disliked her. She'd told only Nocturnal, although she had no clue or care as to whether the cold Daedric Lord had bothered to listen to her murmurings. Even then she hadn't explained why or the specifics of it. Only Hroar knew, but that was because as much as he enjoyed stealing objects, Nelkir enjoyed stealing secrets. And every Jarl has to have a record of their thane somewhere. Frea's eyes had softened, though.
"This does not bother you?"
"No. Anonymity is my ally. Always has been, always will be." She laughed softly as she spoke.
And then the cultists-she had decided 'followers' was too nice of a word for the persistent little buggers-rushed in for a surprise attack, backed by two Draugr. Fortunately for her and Frea, they were unskilled and easily dispatched. The battle had taken them around the pit in the center of the room and Ren noticed a flight of stairs leading down into it. She glanced at Frea, who stared back, and together they headed down.
After a handful more cultists, they reached a gate. A handle was imbedded in the wall beside it and Ren pulled it without much thought, opening the next segment of MIraak's temple to them. This section appeared to be a crypt and a crypt only, so she motioned for Frea to crouch and managed to guide the Skaal warrior through it without any fighting. As they came across Draugr that were awake, it became more dangerous, especially when they reached a handful of very sensitive traps-a Draugr wandered onto one. Frea looked terrified when one brushed past her face, much to Ren's amusement. When they finally broke free of the crypts and into a tunnel that looked very familiar, Frea looked relieved to be free of the Draugr.
"They aren't that bad, you know. The Draugr, I mean." Ren added, seeing Frea's look.
"I am certain they are not….that bad to one such as yourself." Frea said tightly, trying and failing to discreetly wipe some sort of dry substance off of her cheek. Shaking her head with amusement, Ren straightened and studied the hall they were in.
In any other Nordic ruin, it would have been the entrance to one of the ancient Nord's infamous puzzle doors. And, while it did appear to be a Hall of Stories, judging by the depictions of men and women praying to a Dragon Priest, the massive scythes swinging back and forth through the air coupled with the lack of one such puzzle door confused her.
This was too easy. Again, the feeling of being watched-of being herded like cattle-flooded over her. She glanced at Frea, but the Skaal woman seemed oblivious.
"I do not think I am fast enough to make it through this. You stand a better chance than I do. I will wait here for you to pull the lever." Frea said, expression unreadable. Ren wondered with no small degree of amusement if Frea was hoping she would get sliced in half. She glanced at the lever Frea meant, which sat on a small pedestal practically beckoning Here! Pull me!
Well, too bad. She was the Dovahkiin.
Ren drew in a deep breath and expelled the air in the form of a shout.
"Feim Zii Gron!" Blue mist exploded into existence all around her, crawling across her armor and seeping into her flesh, freezing the air in her lungs. She squeezed her eyes shut, opening them only when she could feel the last chill of the Thu'um fade away.
She appeared ghost-like by all accounts, vaguely resembling the wispmothers that so frequented the cold wilds of Skyrim's holds. Frea shouted and jumped back, eyes as wide as plates.
"You are a Dragonborn?" Frea gasped, one hand on her chest. Ren nodded slowly and set off-she had no idea how long this would last for, and she couldn't speak while in this ethereal form anyway.
It was eerie, having a massive blade swishing through where her stomach was. Ren had to hold in the urge to scream when, after looking up, one passed right through her head.
After what felt like an eternity-Ren had never used this Shout before, although Paarthurnax had helped her understand it a bit more fully than she had after learning it-she finally reached the lever. She contemplated how long it would take for the Thu'um to wear off. She reached for her blade as she did so and experimentally tried to draw it. She couldn't feel the hilt, but she could see her fingers wrapping around. As soon as she lifted her closed fist, however, her body solidified so quickly she fell to the ground in shock. It took a moment to get used to breathing again, another to remember how to move solid limbs.
"In answer to your question; yes." Ren called weakly to Frea, pushing herself up and tentatively grasping the lever. She pulled it quickly, wincing as particles of rust and dust covered her hand. Despite the fact most of the temple seemed well traveled-even the Hall of Stories seemed like it got regular traffic-this particular lever had been left untouched.
The feeling of being manipulated returned.
"Are you getting tired?" Ren asked as Frea reached her side. The Skaal was staring at her with an extremely guarded expression.
"…No. But let us go as quickly as we can. This place is…wrong." Frea said curtly, slipping past her. With a sigh, Ren shook her head and followed. She kept her mouth shut when she saw a handle peeking out of the wall-it probably led to a secret chamber filled with treasure, as her experience declared. But, despite her anger with Frea, she did agree. This was getting tiring. They needed to kill Miraak and get out. Finally Frea stopped and grasped a handle hanging from the wall, pulling it sharply.
A soft thump of something fallen met their ears, and trading a glance, they continued on. As soon as they entered the large room that had just opened before them, wooden bridges fell from the wall to their left, showing a handful of openings occupied by what appeared to be two Draugr and another one of Miraak's cultists.
In unison, Frea and Ren drew their blades.
Ren took the closest Draugr while Frea tackled the cultist. The Draugr Ren found herself exchanging blows with wasn't just any Draugr-it was a Deathlord. She let her blade do the work for her, as it hummed in glee. Really, it was extremely easy to please. As long as she was fighting something, it didn't care what was going on or whether she was in a bad mood. Ruby magic began swirling around her with each successful hit, mostly negating her unlucky hits. She managed to crush its kneecaps and promptly decapitate it-only to turn and find its partner bearing down on her. Without thinking, she Shouted.
"Iiz Slen Nus!" A burst of sheer force exploded into existence before her, sending the Draugr tumbling backwards end over end, only to crush itself on the nearest wall. Pleased with the turn of events, she glanced at Frea. The Skaal was waiting impatiently at a big door, the cultist's body lying bleeding out at her feet. Her expression was stony.
"Is there a problem with me being Dragonborn?" Ren asked, quickly reaching Frea and opening the door.
"You are like Miraak." She said bluntly. Ren frowned at the Skaal.
"Don't tell me you're really that short-sighted."
Frea shook her head in response and turned sharply, leading the way farther into Miraak's temple. Ren hurried to catch up, frowning empathetically.
"I do not know what it is Miraak learned that gave him reason to turn on his masters, but his path seems to have been a cruel one. I wonder if we will find some answers to what happened so long ago…" Frea seemed to catch herself and trailed off immediately. Ren agreed. They stood in a corridor entirely caged in by metal mesh-but the most horrifying thing of all was the bodies. Wrists tied to the metal that encased Ren and Frea, they hung desperately to something that had obviously not provided any sort of salvation. Some even lay twisted and broken upon the top of the cage, limbs reaching into them and rib cages embracing the cage tightly. Ren shuddered to herself at the very notion of what these people must have gone through. She had no doubt after the temple had been abandoned they had been left, alive but doomed to die slowly and agonizingly.
The cage opened up into another stone passage, debris cluttering the sides of the temple and roots dangling lifelessly from the ceiling. It turned to their left, revealing a handful of empty alcoves and some ominous black coffins. As expected, the coffins exploded and two Draugr tumbled out of them. Without much thought Ren sent her blade skittering across one's dry neck, and the head rolled a few feet away. Frea dispatched the other, and without a word to Ren, the Skaal warrior continued. The tunnel ended in a ruined metal cage, the opening leading towards a cave. Ren would have thought it had fallen by accident, but there were carvings and structures placed around the cave, which led her to think it had been intentional-or at least mostly intentional. The large cavern contained the metal cage they had just walked through, and encircled a sunken piece of dirt. Ren surveyed the walls around it and saw no openings.
"How are we going to get up there?" Frea asked, pointing towards the shelf opposite the room of them.
"There looks like there are stairs over there." Ren replied, pointing towards stairs a little way to their left. When Ren saw another handful of black coffins, however, she motioned for Frea to crouch. Their progress was slow, but they made it around the main cavern without much difficulty. A flight of stairs led out of the cavern-and down.
At the bottom of the stairs, Ren froze. A massive dragon skeleton hung, displayed like a trophy from the ceiling, poised as if in the middle of an attack. Below it stood a black coffin, to her left a word wall, a Thu'um whispering, begging for her attention, and to her right four other black coffins. She spotted a small chest, but other than that, nothing.
"I had heard Miraak had turned against the Dragon Cult, but to display the remains in such a manner as this…it is no wonder the dragons razed his temple to the ground. Seeing the remains hung up like trophies must have enraged them to no end." Frea murmured, voice barely above a whisper. Ren nodded her agreement, but received a scathing look from the Skaal woman. With a sigh Ren approached the word wall, pressing her fingers against each word until she felt the one that had been imbued with a Dov's power.
"Mul….Strength….Mul….Fron Dovahkiin." She expected the remnants of the voice that resided within the words to be faint, rough and unfamiliar with the language itself. All Dragon Priests, no matter how powerful, were. But this…this was different. A Dov itself-himself-was speaking, murmuring the words with such power, such knowledge. Not to mention acknowledging her.
This had to Miraak, his voice, his bread crumbs left to taunt her. But then, why did he sound so subdued, so sorrowful, so regretful?
She staggered back as the word burned its way into her mind, her soul, her tongue, her mouth. The most terrifying part of it was that she could feel Miraak pressing it on her, not some nameless spirit that had lost its identity over the years.
It was extremely intimate, his soul-and it was his, she could feel it reaching out from wherever he was-searing its way into hers, carving the memory of the word into her very being. She could feel his curiosity, vaguely, as he did so. She knew he could feel her own shock, her own confusion, her own-
"-Ren!" Frea's scream shocked her back to the present. She was slumped against the word wall, her sword lying a few feet away. Frea was buckling beneath an onslaught of Draugr, although two lay dead at her feet. Ren forced the dizziness from her head and grasped her sword. She was off-balance during the entire fight, and although she managed to kill two of the weaker Draugr, Frea did all of the work. When the last body fell, Ren tossed Frea a potion of healing.
"What happened?" Frea asked sharply, anger etched into her eyes.
"Try being Dovahki-Dragonborn for a day, Skaal, and you'd shatter under the pressure. Do not snap at me for things I have no control over. I absorbed a Rotmulaag…..Word of Power. I might be a little strange for a while. It…messes with my head." Ren found herself focusing on each word she spoke. If her focus shifted, she slipped into Dovah, which was not the most understandable of languages. Frea shook her head and glanced around the room instead.
"What? Is this a dead end?" Frea murmured. Ren wandered over to the coffin located beneath the dragon's skeleton. It stood out from the rest-it had to be special. Memories of another false panel flickering into her mind, she pressed her fingertips against the back of it and pressed. It gave for a second, caught, and then crashed to the ground.
"Het…Here, Frea." Ren corrected, glancing at the Skaal. Frea was already walking towards her. With a sigh, Ren led the way through the secret passage.
It led to a dining hall. A quick survey revealed nothing of particular value, so the pair continued on. They emerged into a larger kitchen-like area. A handful of potions and dried ingredients were scattered around the room, which Ren grabbed quickly.
"We should look around. I will take this room. You should take the back room." Frea instructed, already wandering around. Ren rolled her eyes but obeyed. She found a switch within minutes-thieves had to know where triggers would be-and skipped over to Frea even as the Skaal called that a secret passage had just opened.
They followed a tunnel for a short while, and it opened into a circular room. Flanking the entry that had gone through were two pedestals bearing books, but the books had been so badly damaged by time they were nothing more than clumps of leather and melted paper.
This room had been exposed to dragonfire.
"I wonder if there is something here that tells the story of Miraak." Frea murmured. She walked away before Ren could answer, and with a sigh she hurried to follow. Frea led the way into a room with the strangest carving Ren had ever seen extending from the wall. A three-headed beast with fish eyes and maws filled with jagged teeth. On the floor beneath it was a metal grate.
"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." Ren could not recall passing one such statue earlier, but she shrugged.
"They could. Gargoyles are a bit tricky like that." Ren replied. Frea shot her a scathing look.
"I'll leave the honor of pulling that handle to you. I do not want to put my hand anywhere near the mouth of that statue." The sarcasm in the word 'honor' was unmistakable.
"Sure." Ren murmured, grasping the handle and pulling as hard as she could. There was a clanking behind her, and she turned to see the grate had fallen in, revealing a curved flight of stairs. They exchanged looks and headed down it silently, then another flight of stairs. Strange statues dominated the next few rooms, appearing to be gaping maws encasing flames. Both of them avoided the statues instinctually.
Another handle appeared and Ren pulled it, which led to another flight of stairs and a closed wooden door. A handful of skeletons and a pair of Draugr attacked them once the doors had opened, and, noting a dragon skull hanging above a brazier, Ren shoved her weight into the nearest Draugr and sent it flying into the fire. She struck at it with her sword at the same moment as Frea dealt with the skeletons-one hit and they collapsed. Satisfied it was dead she turned to the other-but found Frea finishing it. The Skaal shot her a triumphant look and stalked forward. Ren followed with a roll of the eyes, and froze.
The entire massive hall was draped in hanging moss and lichens, giving it a mysterious, ancient appeal. Yet what held her attention was the Dov skull, framed by its own wings. The position must have been agonizing, when it had been alive. Now, as they approached it, she could see dried twists of twin tying the bones together, discolored a dark color with ancient blood. Ren could feel the faint ghost of the Dov-and a thought bloomed to life in her head.
Why were parts of the dragon's souls left behind, if Miraak was Dragonborn? When she absorbed a soul it ceased to exist-at least, to her awareness. If they were the same…why were they so different?
They passed another dragon put up like a trophy, but Ren had no eyes for it. What she saw was the statue rising up at the top of the stairs, of a strange crab-like being with more eyes than Ren had ever seen on any one creature. Frea stared at it wordlessly and then pushed past it, but Ren stayed behind. A large chest-what she assumed to be an offering chest-sat in front of the statue. She raided it, finding a pile of gems and a cache of arrows-Daedric arrows-along with a handful of other valuable items.
"Are you coming?" Frea snapped. She glanced up, dropping the lid of the chest, and scowled. But she followed Frea, who had pulled a chain, revealing the next tunnel they had to go through.
At the end of it, they found a circular room made entirely of a strange material, a strange mesh that she had never seen before. A pedestal in the center of the room was the only furnishing.
Resting upon it was a black book. Its cover was warped and raised all over, glowing maliciously with a green light. The cover was embossed with a strange design the likes of which she doubted existed anywhere else on Tamriel.
"This book…it seems wrong, somehow. Here, yet…not. It may be what we seek." Frea added, sounding uncertain. Shaken. Ren knew what she meant, but the sinister air surrounding it wasn't going to stop her.
"I'll open it."
"But-" Frea gasped, reaching out and grasping her arm. She turned to look at Frea.
"I've read some very dangerous things in my life, Frea, and so far, they haven't killed me. If this book leads us to Miraak, then I'm all for it." She said wryly, shrugging.
"Like what? "Frea challenged, obviously angry.
"A couple of Elder Scrolls, for example." Ren said flippantly, taking a twisted sense of pleasure in the Skaal's shock as she pulled out of Frea's grasp and turning to the book. Before Frea could say another word, Ren picked it up and flipped it open.
For a second, time froze. The pages, for a second, were covered in flowing words, but before she could read them they changed.
Daedric symbols? But that-
They glowed, brilliantly, and literally came off the page! They formed a spiraling circle in front of her and Ren, too shocked by the sudden turn of events, didn't have the time to react or register why the circle was so dangerous, before a tentacle shot out of it. It was warm and dry-it would have been a thousand times better if it had been cold and slimy, because it felt so alive-and slipped around her throat. Her eyes widened, but before she could speak, it pulled-
She found herself on her hands and knees in quite possibly the strangest landscape she'd seen as of yet. She was surrounded by a sea of thick, oily black sludge, tentacles traveling out of it and spiraling up into a sky that was just as dark and just as oily as the ocean. The apparent difference was that small knots of tentacles floated like clouds in the sky. Before her stood a tall, broad-shouldered man clad in green and black robes, his back to her as he addressed a congregation of some of the strangest creatures Ren had ever seen. A dragon, but a dragon unlike any she had ever seen before. It appeared snake-like, and had its head bowed towards the man. Some strange creatures appearing like a robed mass of tentacles flanked her-although they were not facing her-and she spotted about four on each side. The ground beneath her hands was, as a quick glance revealed, made entirely of books.
Books? She quickly straightened.
The man paused-he'd been shouting what Ren figured to be a motivational speech at the creatures whom Ren assumed were his minions-and suddenly turned to face her.
Despite the fact he wore a golden mask vaguely reminiscent of a Dragon Priest's, she recognized him immediately.
Miraak.
"Who are you to dare set foot here?" He asked, voice cold, hard…but slightly amused. Ren scowled, tugging her hood off. She wanted him to be able to see just how extremely pissed off she was.
"Ahh…You are Dragonborn. I can feel it. And yet…" He trailed off for a moment. His posture was more relaxed now, his words almost challenging as he settled into a half-amused half-surprised appearance.
Ren honestly couldn't imagine why. He had tried to kill her. Why wouldn't she come after him?
"…So you have slain Alduin. Well done...?" He trailed off, clearly expecting her to answer with her name. Her eyes narrowed.
"…Ren. You must be Miraak. I have a bone to pick with you." She said curtly, crossing her arms and taking a few steps closer. She stopped when the strange-looking dragon growled slightly, surprised. Was this Dov truly loyal to him?
"Well met, Mal Dovahkiin. I could have slain Alduin myself, back when I walked the earth…but I chose a different path." He said wryly, drawing an arm back to gesture at their surroundings. She couldn't help herself from glancing around at the alien setting again. And, had he just called her little?
"So you are, in fact, Dragonborn?" She asked, directing all of her attention on him. She wanted some answers, and he seemed to know all of them.
She could feel his smile, even beneath his mask.
"Of course. You have felt it before…Ren." He seemed to pause on her name, drawing it out as if testing her. She felt uncomfortable with him saying it, although she couldn't fathom why she would give a septims worth of care about the subject. She glanced away, recalling the sheer amount of pressure he had forced on her, scarring that word onto her soul.
"That doesn't prove anything. You could be a Tongue." She retorted, drawing herself together. He tilted his head slowly, regarding her carefully. She felt him studying her-not leering like Delvin did. His gaze was clinical. Evaluating. Assessing.
"Do not disappoint me now, Ren of the Nightingales." He murmured softly. His words were barely audible, but they sent a chill racing down her spine.
How did he know she was a Nightingale?!
He suddenly straightened, posture becoming severe and businesslike.
"I am afraid our time has run out, Mal Dovahkiin…And you still have no idea the true power a Dragonborn can wield."
"Why do you keep calling me little?" She demanded, thoroughly annoyed with it.
"Mul Qah Div!" He did not respond to her question but she could hear his laughter in the Thu'um as clearly as she could see the suddenly iridescent light that surrounded him, forming armor made entirely of light.
His use of the Thu'um shocked her. She'd never heard another Dragonborn Shout-she had heard Tongues, of course, but never another Dragonborn. She could feel the Shout pressing against her, whispering phrases that slipped from her thoughts as readily as they appeared and silencing her own tongue.
"This realm is beyond you. You have no power here, Mal Dovahkiin. Solstheim will soon be mine. I already control the minds of its people. Soon they will finish building my temple, and I will return home." There was such vehemence, such steel in his voice that Ren couldn't find any words to snap back at him. What had spurred the sudden change in demeanor? He turned to two of the strange floating creatures dismissively.
"Send her back where she came from. The Mal Dovahkiin can await my arrival with the rest of Tamriel." Her jaw dropped as the creatures slowly turned to face her-all four of them-as he climbed aboard the dragon!
"By the Nine." She gasped. The Dov began beating its wings, lifting itself high up into the air. Miraak was riding the dragon!
Her attention shot to the creatures and she fell into a defensive stance, reaching for her sword. Before her fingertips could even brush it, the creatures lifted their hands, placing their wrists together.
A wave of cold energy washed over her.
It was unbelievable in strength, forcing her legs to crumple. She fell to her hands and knees, gasping as the power attempted to crush her. She could feel it prying her apart at the seams, tearing at her very being-
"-Ren!"
Ren found herself lying on stone, body entirely absent of any sort of pain. Curiously she pushed herself up, looking around. Frea stood over her, a frantic expression on the Skaal's face.
It took a moment for what had happened to fully register.
"By Talos." Ren groaned, dropping her face into her hands.
"Are you alright? What happened?" Frea asked urgently, grasping her wrists and pulling her to her feet. Ren stumbled into Frea, still reeling from the pressure that had forced her out of wherever she'd been.
"I...I saw Miraak."
XXXXXX
Super effing long chapter. X.X Sometimes I think I need to cut them in half, but yeah, I'm too lazy~. Thanks for the review, Odalique! Means a lot that you like it so much ^^
So thoughts? Reviews would be appreciated.