Date posted: 15th January 2025

This fic is written for The Fourth Annual Morrowind Writing Competition for the Morrowind Writers' Guild Discord channel. Thanks to Alice for running it.

I'd link the channel here but FFN hates links so I implore you to go to the Ao3 version of this story and get the link there.

Summary:

Ajira of the Balmora Mages Guild, alchemist and inspiring author, was having a most terrible day. That is until a strange Redguard walked into her workshop.

The Alchemist and the Warrior

"Oh dear, this will not do at all."

Ajira went through every drawer she owned. She had been spending an inordinate amount of time on these reports, making sure everything was in place, and was just finishing up her final draft.

Unfortunately, she was lacking the mushrooms she needed. She was to double check their properties, make sure everything was in correct order, find the correct paints to colour them in her report, all sorts of things most necessary when it comes to the study of alchemy.

When she asked their resident healer, Sharn gra-Muzgob, about it, the orc told her to leave her be and for some reason insisted she wasn't a necromancer; Galbedir, her rival, was no help to no surprise; Estirdalin and Marayn were away; Masalinie had yet to arrive; and Ajira dared not bother Guildmistress Athrys.

"Where are they? This one needs those mushrooms!" she muttered to herself.

She pried open the one drawer that she had not yet opened and pulled out a most beautiful notebook: hidebound, thick creamy pages, with a velvet string keeping it closed. It was a beautiful book destined to have beautiful things written into it. Ajira wondered whose book this was when the memory returned to her.

The Khajiit had sold her mushrooms the other day to buy this notebook. Ajira was to use it to write her fiction but her duties had forced her to put it away. After all, she was supposedly finishing up her final draft, and had no need of it anymore. And she was using her own money, not the guild's.

She supposed she could have asked Nalcarya at her own shop but the high elf accused her of stealing a set of mortar and pestle and banned her from the shop.

Well, Ajira did steal them, but Nalcarya had no evidence that she did. So in the Khajiit's view, she was innocent in the eyes of the law. Then again, Dunmer law was not very equal in her own eyes so she had little respect for it in the first place.

Ajira hummed and hawed, pacing around her workshop. She could sell off the book but Dorisa, the local bookseller, did not take refunds. Ajira could sell it to the local pawnbroker but Dralasa was a desert viper liable to rip her off and she likely wouldn't make enough money to buy her ingredients.

She could also just forage for the mushrooms herself but Ajira hated going out into the wilderness of her home, much less the wilds of Vvardenfell.

"Oh, oh this will not do at all."

So deep was her panic that she did not notice the stranger walking into her room.

"Ahem, excuse me."

"What is it? Do you not see that Ajira is busy?" she said as she uselessly skimmed through her empty notebook; but wow, it was a very pretty notebook.

"I was told that you can help me with something."

Finally, the alchemist deigned to look at the newcomer:

He was a Redguard, tall and broad shouldered, his hair cut short and his face clean shaven. He wore a curious mixture of iron maille, bonemold gauntlets, and a horned Nordic helmet. A shortsword in the Legion make and a bone club hung on his belt.

It was a hideous set, even to her non-warrior eyes. It was as if he stole them from various shops or more likely looted them from some bandit in the wolds, in which case, she approved it very much, horrible fashion aside.

"This one thinks the Redguard is in the wrong building." She gestured her head to the left. "Yonder way lies the Fighters Guild."

"Actually, the Fighters Guild is to your right."

"Yes, this one was using left to gesture it is to your left. Ajira thinks ten steps ahead, as always."

"Uhuh. But no, I am in the right building." He put his hand forward. "I am Rashid."

Ajira disliked shaking hands for the other person's scent would clung to her own for the rest of the day, but her mother did not raise her in a stable unlike her Senche-raht cousins.

She shook it. "This one is Ajira."

"Huh, wouldn't have guessed."

"Ajira would usually appreciate this kind of humour but Khajiit is in disarray." She gestured to the messy pile of parchment on her desk. "Ajira needs mushrooms to finish her reports and the deadline draws ever near!"

"Well, I was looking for help for something. I'll help you, you help me, what do you say?"

"Yes, yes, Ajira will give Rashid her highest quality Telvanni bug musk if he can help her!"

"I don't know what bug musk is and I'm too afraid to ask, but worry not, Rashid will indeed help you."

She quickly scribbled the ingredients on a piece of paper. "Here, you can find most of them on the Bitter Coast. Make haste, Friend Rashid! Ajira's career is on the line!"

And make haste he did, as the warrior ventured forth into the wild lands beyond Balmora. When he returned at dusk, his sword was bloodied and parts of his maille were torn, but he otherwise looked to be unharmed. No doubt the wildlife had taken a dislike to his foraging.

"Scribs," he simply said, confirming her suspicions. "Nasty little things."

He provided the ingredients in a sack which Ajira made sure were the right ones, which they were. She let out a sigh of relief.

"Ajira admits, she has little in the way of coin. She also admits she was lying about the bug musk. Perhaps Ajira can help Friend Rashid in other ways?"

"Well, there is a reason why anyone seeks the aid of the Mages Guild, yes?"

He looked left and right, as if suspecting someone was following him, then lowered his voice and whispered, "I wish to learn magic."

Honestly, Ajira should have expected it in the first place.

The next morning, they had a drink at one of the many tea shops in Balmora's commercial district. Working mer and womer rose early to have their breakfast in the many eateries by the Odai River.

The Dunmer love their multitude of mushroom tea. Some of her fellow mages enjoyed canis root tea which had to be imported from Skyrim for their ability to make them focus. As for Ajira, she preferred jasmine with a small sprinkle of moon sugar, which she hid in a little wooden tube sewn into the hem of her sleeve. The amount of trouble she went to acquire her beloved sugar was almost as big of a headache as writing those reports were.

Unfortunately, she had forgotten that she was not drinking alone and her new friend had noticed her sprinkling of the illegal substance. Ajira only smiled. "Sugar for Friend Rashid?"

"No, thank you. I already have mine. You wouldn't have any coffee on you, would you?"

"Sadly no, this one spends much of her money on getting her sweetener."

"Alas." He shook his head and sipped at his tea. "I've been on this island for a mere two weeks and cannot find any beans."

She returned to the topic at hand. "Rashid says he wants to learn magic, yes? Ajira may be the best alchemist in the Mages Guild, nay, perhaps all of Morrowind, but she is not exactly Divayth Fyr. There are better teachers in the guild."

"But you know the fundamentals, and it is the fundamentals that I am lacking. Help me with that and I'll help you with any duties that need doing."

Well, that seemed to be easy enough. Ajira did tutor her nieces and nephews on magic back in Elswyr once in a while. "This one has a question."

"Go ahead."

"You asked for this one's assistance quietly, as if you were ashamed."

Again, he did that thing where he looked around him, as if he was being followed.

"It's just that -" He shut his mouth, thinking. "It's just that it's not proper for a Redguard to learn foreign magic."

Ah, there it is. Another one of those cultural taboos she couldn't wrap her head around. "But Rashid is a foreigner."

"I am well aware, yes."

"Let Ajira guess, cliff racers are giving you trouble?"

"Well, once I run out of javelins, usually yes. But it's not just that. My current … employer has suggested I learn a thing or two about magic here in Vvardenfell. Makes traversing the land easier."

"That is true, Friend Rashid. Why hire a boatman when you can just walk on water, eh? Even Ajira, who is not fond of water, sometimes takes a stroll on the river to mock the slaughterfish."

"If I had a horse, this would be easy. But for some reason here doesn't seem to be a stable anywhere on this island. And importing one from the mainland is beyond my means. I tried flying too, damn near broke my legs but I fortunately landed in a tree and only broke a rib."

"Fascinating." Ajira sipped her tea, disregarding the bit about flying. "Very well, this one can always have a use for a fighting man. Tell Ajira, how does Friend Rashid feel about scamps?"

"Hate them."

Her reports and her new notebook will have to wait. "Excellent!" she clasped both hands. "We can start now!"

Ajira was a creature of schedule.

She woke up early to do her chores in her little domicile across the river. It was a humble place, cheap, often infested with rats, which proved good targets for her Destruction magic. She would whip up a bowl of porridge with fried ash yams with a cup of tea. Afterwards she would summon a skeleton to tidy up her place, pull out some paper and begin writing her fiction.

In truth, Ajira's first choice in a career was not a mage. She was good enough at it at a young age, enough to do her job but that was it. Her true passion was in literature, being infatuated by novels she read as a kitten. The Argonian Quill-Weave was her favourite author and she aspired to become as good of a writer as her.

But the thing about writing was that the truth all writers must eventually confront: you can't make a living off it unless you were blessed by the gods themselves.

So after much poking and prodding from her parents, she moved from her home city of Riverhold to the distant land of the Dark Elves where she would get money, experience, and most importantly, inspiration.

Such expectations and dreams were quickly shattered when she found the island hostile to her kind; whether it be the Dunmer's xenophobia or the hostile fauna, fertile ground for tales of wonder it was not. Thus she spent most of her days in Balmora, within the guild or in her home, doing very little exploring.

"Ah, the life of an artist is truly suffering," she mused.

"I'm sure it is, but when are we getting to the magic?"

"Oh, right. Sorry. Ajira's head was in the clouds."

Just as Ajidra had expected, Friend Rashid was indeed a member of the Fighters Guild and was just as new to the organisation as he was with the Mages Guild. He spoke little of his previous life before arriving on the island, but as much as the alchemist liked snooping her nose where she wasn't supposed to, she could not do that to her new friend.

The two of them had gathered in the spacious basement of the Fighters Guild. It was just the two of them along with a couple of others sparring in the corner; he made sure to get permission from the guildmistress to practice magic.

Ajira's favourite spell was summoning skeletons, smart enough to do basic tasks, dumb enough to do anything more than that. This she performed in secrecy within the confines of her humble home. She was not a Telvanni wizard who could have powerful Dremora go to the nearest market to fetch her groceries. That, and having undead serving a cat-woman like herself would get her lynched quicker than wearing the face of Indoril Nerevar in the sight of zealous Ordinators.

Necromancy was not illegal in the Empire but taboo in the eyes of the Dunmer who revere and honour their dead. It was one thing to bind grandfather to protect the family tomb, it was another to imitate Haymon Camoran and summon an army of undead to conquer your dirty dishes.

That, and using a summoned skeleton just showed you were too poor to afford a servant, and that's a major no-no. The elves of Morrowind had such complex and at times contradictory beliefs, it was enough to drive even the Skooma Cat insane.

"Ajira knows all forms of magic known to man, mer and beast, but she is best in the School of Conjuration. Since Rashid is a novice, we will begin by summoning scamps. Behold, a master at her work!"

"Aren't you just an apprentice? That doesn't scream master Conjurer - Ow, no need to hit me in the head!"

"Listen to your seniors well and pay attention!"

With a little lesson on the use of controlling one's magicka, to channel your inner power and let it flow to your fingers and all that boring stuff, Ajira summoned a Daedric being from the realm of Oblivion.

At first there was nothing, and then a flash of light, and lo and behold: standing before them, roughly the size of an eight year old child, was a scamp.

"See? Easy? If you're even better at it, you can even turn them into your servants."

"I see," said the Redguard, though his hand edged to the hilt of his club. The Daedric spawn bared its teeth at both of them. "So, what am I supposed to do now?"

"Dispel it, of course. Do what Ajira did but in reverse and -"

Before the Khajiit could finish her sentence, the club was already in Rashid's hand and he dented the skull of the scamp with a sickening crunch.

The creature shrunk an inch, what with the piece of thick bone in its skull, staggered over as if it was drunk, and in a flash of light returned to the realms of Oblivion where it most likely regaled the tale of its death to the sympathy of its fellow scamps.

"Dispelled," Rashid said, slipping his club back into the loop of his belt. Then he looked at Ajira. "What?"

"Ajira fears this may take more work than she expected."

Thus began the training of Associate Rashid and Master Ajira.

The downside of having a student was that Ajira was having less time overall. Her work was a priority which meant that her one hour of writing her stories was taken up by her time of training Rashid.

Fortunately for her, Rashid was a quick learner. Once he got the hang of casting the simplest of spells that was mandated in the Guild's curriculum - a light spell, firebolt, hearth heal, usual little baby spells - he was quick to move to Conjuration, the one thing Ajira was good at besides alchemy.

He graduated from scamps to summoning skeletons. The odd thing is that he then proceeded to arm said skeleton with bound arms and armour - the perfect sparring partner.

"In my homeland, to fight the Risen Dead is an unclean business. Only a single tribe in the Alik'r, once belonging to an exile prince whose name is lost to history, has borne that duty."

Rashid sidestepped a spear thrust from his summon and counter attacked with a swipe of his blade on its helmet. The skeleton was unperturbed at its master's cut.

"There are the hardliners who believe to fight any Undead to be impure work. But the priests of Arkay say that this does not apply to foreign dead. At least, the ones that preached in my temple."

The skeleton came at him with the full weight of its body, charging at him as if it were a pike bearer in a phalanx. At that, Rashid struck at the summon's knee with his own bound hammer, then immediately dispelling it and returning his free hand to his longsword. The skeleton stumbled and fell with a clatter of steel and a rattle of bone.

The warrior placed his sabatoned foot on its spice and drove the tip of his sword in its neck, the gap between the cuirass and helmet was only an inch wide.

The magic that bound it to the plane of Mundus dissipated and the creature returned to Oblivion. The man was not even sweating as he sheathed his sword.

It was impressive work nonetheless. "Friend Rashid has this all wrong: you are supposed to arm yourself in bound wargear, not bound your minion."

"Oh, I have no desire to rely on summons in battle. My skeleton friend will be my sparring partner, and perhaps if I could train it, my pack mule." He summoned and dispelled a dagger as easily as one would flip a coin. "I am quite a fan of bound weapons, I must say. Will save me money on repairs."

"This one thinks it would be easier and cheaper to hire a guar. It's also not illegal."

"Oh, so that's what they're called. I'll be sure to keep that in mind."

The lesson ended, Rashid excused himself for he had to prepare himself to travel to a Dwarven ruin some ways away from Balmora, something about looking for a cube or somesuch. This was acceptable to the Khajiit for she too had her duties and neither could spend their time training all the time.

When he returned to the Mages Guild a few days later, his maille was replaced with what was clearly the torso of a Dwarven Centurion, a massive Nordic axe on his back. The cuirass was technically illegal in the eyes of the law but the local guards did not deign to squabble with any adventurer proficient enough to sack the haunted ruins of the Dwemer.

"Your teachings have come clutch when I was exploring the ruins of Arkngthand, Ajira," the Redguard began. "The bandit chief that led that band broke my shield, but I was able to summon a shield to save my neck from splitting from my body."

Ajira, of course, did not care one bit for the law and did not comment. "Ah, Friend Rashid. You have returned just in time. This one is delighted to hear of your success. However, Ajira needs help with her reports once again, to face her arch-nemesis Galbedir. She has blamed me for swapping her soul gems - which Ajira is completely innocent of, mind you - and in response hidden my reports. Will you lend aid to Khajiit once more?"

He made sure the coast was clear before he asked, "Do you want me to kill her? I mean, I'll do it, but I think that's against guild rules."

This was the problem with dealing with warriors; when all you have is an axe, everything looks like a head. "No, of course not, but thank you for offering. It's far more mundane."

Her reports were returned to her in less than ten minutes. Perhaps she could have searched for them herself as training Rashid took far much longer. But Ajira was a cat of her word and would return the favour. That, and she was enjoying his company, his eccentricities aside.

"I know Alteration is not one of your strong suits, but I was wondering if you can help with that."

She furrowed her brows at that, this would cut into her writing time. "Ah, it is true Ajira is no good at Alteration. Perhaps, you can ask Sharn gra-Muzgob about that."

"Yes, Mistress Athrys mentioned that. The thing is. Well."

He explained his situation. Once again, Ajira wondered if she had bitten off more than she could chew.

"I accept your apology, associate. Next time, please keep your remarks to yourself," said the orc. "I already have so much work to do."

"That I can do," the warrior said humbly. "Also, remember that thing our mutual friend asked you about."

At this, the mage snorted. "Yes, yes, let's get it over with. Now, remember what I taught you. Flow your magicka, starting with your chest, and expand outward …"

Ajira had no idea what transpired between the two as they were tight-lipped about the whole thing, but knowing some history between Orcs and Redguard, she could have guessed. Ajira did much convincing, cajoling and a little bit of begging to allow the paranoid mage to agree to train him.

Once again, they found themselves in the Fighters Guild training chamber. Despite their bad first impressions, Sharn was nothing short of professional and taught the Redguard not so differently from how Ajira did. Anyone who was to be a trainer in the Mages Guild had to go through their own certification, no different than other guilds.

A shimmer of purple light pulsed through Rashid but the Redguard looked confused. "I don't feel any different."

"Try jumping."

"Jumping? In forty pounds of armour?" He looked himself up and down; at some point he had gotten matching greaves to match his cuirass. "Well, if you say so."

At that, the warrior jumped so high his un-helmeted head smacked the low ceiling. His eyes widened. "I feel like I'm wearing nothing!"

"Feather spells, most useful for anyone in heavy armour. I would know a thing or two about it, even if I don't wear my armour much these days." She rapped her knuckles on his breastplate. "It's good, but it's Orcish armour it is not."

Rashid snorted. "Orichalchum is better used by any apprentice Redguard smith than an Orc as our ancestors brought it from Yokuda. Orcish armour is but a pale imitation."

Ah, now Ajira can guess why they were fighting at some point.

At the remark, Sharn placed a green finger on his chest as he glowed purple. Suddenly, Rashid went rigid.

His eyes widened. "Wait, what are you -"

Finger still on his chest, she gave him just the smallest of nudges as the warrior crashed onto the floor with a racket.

See, this is why Ajira could never be a warrior - all that armour is too loud for her liking.

"A Burden spell," said Ajira. "This one knows of it, but she does not realise there could be application in combat."

"Or when an uppity Redguard says something stupid," said Sharn.

"I recognise I have chosen my words poorly," said Rashid, his face completely neutral. "If the good sorceress is willing to undo this effect, I would be most appreciative and return the favour."

Sharn rubbed her jaw, a finger tapping on one of her tusks. "I do have a job, concerning a little tomb robbing. It's near Pallegiad, a skull of a Dunmer mage."

"And this mage, was he one of great import?"

"No, just a journeyman enchanter. No relation to the Tribunal Temple or any Daedric princes or whathaveyou," she said in a lowered voice despite there being no one in the chamber but them.

Ajira paid it no heed and neither did Rashid. "Very well. When does the spell wear off?" he asked.

"It's a potent one, so half an hour. Ajira, would you like to get some tea? I'm buying."

"This one would be delighted."

"Wait, wait just a second. This tomb will be haunted, don't you have some scrolls or a weapon that I can use?" he asked.

"No, sorry, I have no such things. Mages Guild property, after all," said Sharn. Ajira recalled that the orc did possess an enchanted sword that she kept under her bed, but the cat decided it would be rude to point that out.

"Fine then. You could dispel this effect. Before you go, I mean," said Rashid, a hint of desperation in his tone. "I do not think I can cast the spell on myself; my arms feel like lead."

"Hmm, I will think about it over tea."

The ladies left the prone form of the warrior alone in the training chamber.

Three days later, Rashid returned to the Mages Guild with a sack in hand. His pretty Dwarven cuirass had bits of scratches here and there but he was in better shape than the last time he went out for errands for Ajira. But his face did look a little pale.

He shoved the offending sack into Sharn's chest. "Here's your damnable skull. Could have given a few scrolls for the spirits, but no."

"Don't talk too loud!" the orc hissed. "Anyway, you didn't die, so take that as a victory."

Rashid harrumphed. "At least the haul was good."

It must have been, considering the bulging backpack that the warrior carried on him. Ajira could spy at least two warhammers poking from the flap of his bag yet the Redguard did not seem troubled at all with the bulk.

She butted in. "It is best that Friend Rashid does not speak too loudly of his fortunes."

"It'll pay for the medicine I've used, and the repairs I will have to make," said the Redguard. "Regardless, I think you owe me something more."

"I supposed a few Shield spells could be of use. Even in death, those Dunmer spirits can chuck a fireball at you quickly," Sharn mused.

"Why does Friend Sharn not teach him some Necromancy?" asked the Khajiit. "You are quite good at it."

The orc spun so fast Ajira felt like a gust of wind blew at her. "Necromancy? What? No such thing." Her laugh was a tad unhinged. "Besides, Necromancy is illegal and repulsive. I would never do such a thing!"

"Please, no need to lie, Friend Sharn. It is our little secret. Besides, Ajira has done it too! But do not inform the authorities of that."

"I've been using a skeleton as a training buddy," said the warrior. "But I've gotten so good at fighting it, it no longer gives me a challenge. Perhaps an Atronarch?"

"You've been teaching him what?!" The orc's head looked like it was about to explode. "Fine. I admit I've been studying it. For research purposes, I assure you. But how did you of all people know that?"

"This one found a copy of Legions of the Dead on your shelf. Friend Sharn needs to learn how to hide it better."

She narrowed her eyes at the cat-woman. "I locked that in my chest."

"Friend Sharn is mistaken. You had it out in the open the other day."

The great thing about being a beast-woman is that man and mer alike had trouble reading her facial expressions. "I will consider it. But frankly, I think it's better for Rashid to learn some Mysticism spells. So he doesn't need to bother Masalie so much and get his work done quicker."

"I'm afraid I don't spend as much time here. Who is Masalie?"

"The Guild Guide. In the teleportation chamber," said Sharn. "Any competent mage practiced in Mysticism could do that quite easily, but to teleport others, well, there's a reason why Guild Guides are paid very well for their services."

At that, the Redguard blinked. "There are … teleportation spells?"

For someone with a knack for magic, Friend Rashid knew quite little about it.

The months passed as Ajira continued studying alchemy. The monotonous testing and munching on every little plant, herb, fungi, and mystery meat under the sun. Even her writing had slowed down, her time spent more on staring at her blank manuscript than writing on it. Only the brief moments of her teaching Rashid had brought some excitement to her life, because as much as she cared little for the politics of the guild, she found that she had a thing for teaching.

The first thing Ajira taught him was Mark and Recall. A simple enough task and she allowed him to use her quarters as a spot to Mark. He then exited the Mages Guild to cast Recall.

Before he left, he asked, "What happens when someone is also standing where I intend to teleport to?"

"Do not worry about it."

"But -"

"Ajira says not to worry about it, eh? The nightmares are not worth it."

It took him three hours to do so, and Ajira wondered what was taking her friend so long. She even went outside to search for him but he was nowhere to be found until a guard told her that he had left town. No doubt on another expedition.

When she was about to lay in bed at the end of the day, the familiar bulk of an armoured Rashid appeared once more.

"I did it! That was amazing!" said the Redguard with an almost childish glee. "Who needs to care and pay for an expensive horse when you've this at your disposal?"

"Finally, Khajiit was tired of waiting. But as Rashid can see, it is a one way trip."

"True, but it's preferable than taking two trips, that's for sure."

Ajira's sensitive nose twitched, and she sniffed the air. "Friend Rashid, where were you again exactly?"

"Oh, nearby vampire den. If I'm casting the spell, I might as well come back after doing a job for the Fighters Guild." He pulled on a strap of his backpack, something heavy clanked inside. "Not much in the way of loot though."

Ajira shook her head; she would never understand the way of the warrior.

The two related holy teleportation spells - Divine Intervention and Almsivi Intervention - he learned just as quickly. He even sought lessons at the local temple and the Imperial one, adding more and more spells to his repertoire. He had also picked up some healing spells, if only to cast on himself. It was a good thing his interest in magic was almost entirely revolved around combat; in another age, they would have certainly become rivals.

Yet for all of his warrior-ing and his work with the Fighters Guild, he cared little to use any sort of Destruction nor Illusion magic.

"Really? Not even fireball? A good shot would scatter a flock of cliff racers very easily, Ajira finds."

They were once again out in the field, this time Ajira went out to find flowers; needed to stretch her legs after awhile. Every time they met, it seemed that Rashid was wearing something new. This time, he had a Daedric helmet on, which he said he found in a Nord's tomb, found only by Levitating far above a ship he was laid to rest in.

The Redguard followed, more of a walk than a serious duty. "A summoned javelin is all the ranged weaponry I need," he said. "A demonstration."

He gestured his head to a mudcrab at a distance, who had noticed the two of them and was charging at them with great speed from its spot of water. Well, as much speed as their little legs could carry.

Instead of summoning them in hand, as any Conjurer would, he instead pulled his arm back, his hand balled into a fist, pointing at the creature with his other hand. A black and red steel javelin emerged in his fist and he threw it with the precision of a great athlete.

The javelin struck its crustacean shell with a crack, went so deep it embedded halfway in the soft ground below. Instantly, the javelin disappeared as he dispelled it.

Ajira would whistle if she could. "Impressive. Yet Friend Rashid already has a crossbow, why not use that?"

"Bolts are expensive, magicka is free. Speaking of which, crab?"

"No, thank you. This one has been dealing with crab meat all week with her potions."

Yet that was the extent of Ajira's wilderness travels. Being far more active than Ajira ever cared to, Rashid found himself more often than not in the wilderness of Vvardenfell. Each time, he would return to Ajira to buy a few potions, she would teach him a thing or two, until she realised she had run out of tasks to do and things to teach. She saw him less and less as the student was quickly outpacing his master.

But it was not all boring, Ajira had found herself advancing to the rank of Journeyman before Galbedir did, which the Khajiit lorded over the Bosmer at any chance she could get. With the new rank came new responsibilities, which she tackled with gusto, even if it meant less time writing her novel.

All was well until one day, the Khajiit said something inflammatory and the Bosmer finally snapped. The two of them summoned Fire Atronachs in the guild library for the second time.

Guildmistress Ranis Athrys forced the two of them to make peace, her summoned Dremora hefting the both of them by the hem of their robes, dangling them in the air; like baby Khajiit being carried in mama's teeth.

"This is not how Journeymen of the Mages Guild are supposed to act," said the Dunmer, very unimpressed. "If you two do not cease this petty inconsequential rivalry there will be severe consequences. Do you understand?"

The Khajiit and Bosmer locked eyes for a moment before they finally relented. "Yes," they said.

"Good. I'm glad we got over this. What is it, Ajira?"

"You said this is not how Journeymen of the Guild are supposed to act, but Galbedir is still a lowly Apprentice."

At that, the Bosmer threw a fireball in her face.

Three days later, Ajira found herself banished to the city of Vivec.

Ajira feared to admit it but she was missing her colleagues at Balmora.

True, she could have returned to them at any point. A one time payment to the chapter's Guild Guide should solve that.

Should, being the keyword. Guildmistress Athrys threatened to set her Dremora on Ajira and Galbedir if she saw them again. Archmage and Guildmaster Trebonius Artorius assured her that her anger was temporary, and that she could return to Balmora soon.

Which was fair, her face had only partially regrown her beautiful fur back even if she looked like a partly shaved cat. It was a good thing she still had her Fire Shield active when she was struck.

"At the moment, you are welcome to study and research on the disappearance of the Dwemer here, young Ajira," said the Arch-mage.

"But Ajira does not care for long gone Dwarves. She is an alchemist." At least being in Vivec would allow her to access even rarer ingredients from the merchants.

"Would you like access to rare ingredients?" asked the old man.

It was as if he read her mind. "Yes …"

"Would you like to advance to the rank of Evoker?"

"Well, also yes. But this one thinks -"

The guildmaster shoved a pile of books into her chest. "Think less, do more, Journeyman."

Edwina Elbert, rank Wizard, was her immediate senior. Apparently, she had been searching high and low for mages to help her on her work, but many mysteriously refused.

"I don't see why. I have the budget to generously pay for anyone to help me do this, thanks to the Arch-mage's similar interest in the Dwemer."

Well, at least the paybump was good, even if Ajira was still a Journeyman. "Why not send sellswords, ma'am?"

"Oh, they have a nasty habit of perishing," she said, as if commenting on the weather. "The last one that came back threw the artefact I sent to find on my table, took his pay, and never returned. He cursed me all the way to the entrance of our guild." She sighed. "It's so hard to find good help these days. Speaking of which, have you ever been to Arkngthunch-Sturdumz? Or any dwarven ruin?"

Oh boy.

So here she was, far north of Gnisis, wearing cheap maile under her robes, wielding a mace she had no idea how to use. Her legs ached from all the walking, and she consumed far too many fatigue restoration potions than she intended.

It took little time for the ancient Dwemer animunculi to turn on her, the ancient Centurions come to life. Her skeletons proved less than effective than she had hoped for; who knew bone could not stand against dwarven metal?

She should have. "Ah, the pursuit of rank will kill Ajira one day," she said to herself.

So here she was, hiding in what appeared to be a closet, clutching her mace close to her chest, praying to her gods that none could find her.

She would have escaped easily had she the magicka to cast Recall or Intervention, so the best she could do was wait. A cat like her did not find such confined spaces all that suffocating.

She fell asleep, dreaming of warm sands and the life of a famous woman when a racket woke her up. The tearing and screeching of metal and the dying whistling of the Centurions.

Ajira braved poking her head out of the closet only to find herself looking down the tip of a sword. "This one surrenders!"

"Ajira? What are you doing here?"

The warrior was clad in an ebony cuirass with mix-match orcish gauntlets and greaves. Instead of a proper helm, he wore what was the skull of a great beast, looking most fearsome. She broke into a grin.

"Friend Rashid! Khajiit is so glad to see you! Please, bring Ajira out of here!"

All around him were the fallen carcass of Centurions. A ball of magelight floated above his head. He sheathed his sword - some sort of glass katana - shaking his head. "Sorry, but one of the mages at Vivec asked me to find a Dwemer tube. I can't leave without it."

At this, the Khajiit narrowed her eyes. "Was it one named Edwinna?"

"Yes, actually. Apparently, she had sent a few adventurers and guild members to find her artefacts. Why, she didn't even mention you."

Ajira let out a long sigh. Oh, she would throw claws at Edwina were she not a better wizard. "Please let Ajira follow Friend Rashid. She will even carry his things."

"Well, if you insist," he said, handing her his pack. She almost fell to the floor clutching it. "Oh, and cast some light too. I need to conserve my magicka."

So down they went deeper into the ruin, felling mechanical monstrosities and banishing their long dead masters into the next life.

By the time the both of them were finished, they had both run out of magicka. Ajira's bag of potions had been smacked by a Centurion that snuck on her, soaking it wet. Which meant neither of them had the ability to return to the guild. Which meant -

"Are we there yet, Friend Rashid?"

"Ajira, we can still see the entrance of the ruin."

"Khajiit is not meant for walking long distances. That is what spells and ships and Silt Striders are for." The spirits must have come too close one too many times because her entire body was shivering. She had been sneezing non-stop since they left. Rashid's heavy pack was not helping either.

"Well you better keep it up because Ald Velothi is a day away."

At that, the Khajiit, tired and demoralised, fell to her knees and blacked out.

They made camp on the beaches of the northern shore, cooking mudcrabs on spits over the fire. There was little to be done but to rest, recuperate and talk. He had even cast a spell to help with her burning fever. Ajira, who had been practicing magic since she was a child, had been severely outpaced by him.

He even shared with her a cup of coffee. "You have no idea how hard it is to get these," he said.

"It seems the master has been outpaced by the student. Ajira has taught Rashid well."

"You didn't teach me any healing."

"Just be nice for the sick cat," she said, sipping his coffee, resisting the urge to stick her tongue out; she wished she had some moon sugar on her.

"Of course, I had a most excellent teacher," he said, bowing. They had pitched a tent and yet the warrior was still wearing his armour, which could not have been very comfortable.

They listened to the crackle of fire and the lapping of waves for a time, night had already fallen. "Friend Rashid, may this one confide in him?"

"Of course, Friend Ajira."

"Ajira wishes to be a … writer."

"Truly? A writer of what?"

"Novels. Tales of daring-do and adventure. Romance, history, great epics."

"Fascinating. Have you written any?"

"Ajira is currently finishing up her first draft."

"And how long have you been writing this first draft?"

"About two or three years. Oh, do not look at Ajira like that. Writing is hard!"

"Have you considered writing a book on alchemy? That may sell well."

"Perhaps. Perhaps not. There are hundreds of books on how to make potions. No books on what Ajira is writing."

"What is Ajira's story about?"

"It is about - Achoo! - apologies. It is about a Khajiit alchemist who finds herself kidnapped by slavers, and sold to the palace of a Tsaesci warlord. There, she uses her alchemical genius to uncover plots of the court with the help of a beautiful eunuch, hijinks ensue. Ajira has yet to find a title for it."

"That sounds most fascinating. I think it will sell well."

"Would Friend Rashid read it?"

"Of course."

"There is an issue, however."

"Is it all the ruin diving?"

Energy surged through her as she complained of her predicament. "Ajira needs to return to Balmora. She cannot do this adventuring business. One is bad enough, another could - Achoo! - be the end of Khajiit!"

"I could always accompany you."

"As a good servant of the guild Rashid is, he is not everywhere all at once. He must speak to Guildmistress Athrys and convince her to let Ajira return."

"Uh, I don't know. I'm still an Associate, lower ranked than you are."

"Surely Friend Rashid can - wait. How long has Rashid been with the guild?"

"About half a year at this point. Why?"

When they returned to Vivec and consulted Arch-mage Artorius, Rashid was immediately promoted to the rank of Master Wizard.

"Huh, didn't expect that."

"How has Rashid not asked for a promotion?!" asked a bewildered and still under the weather Ajira.

He shrugged, ebony pauldrons clanking. "I never thought to ask."

Conjurer Ajira of the Mages Guild skipped through the halls of Balmora guild, all sunshine and rainbows that day.

She handed a book to everyone: to Estirdalin, Marayn, and Masalinie who congratulated her; to Sharn gra-Muzgrob who ignored her; to Guildmistress Athrys who gave her a perfunctory nod; and even to Galbedir who immediately threw her book in the trash right in front of her.

"Worry not, Friend Galbedir. This one has sent one to your house. It is even autographed."

"Whatever, I'll be sure to use it on the toilet," said Galbedir, not looking up from the soul gem she was examining. Whether she meant for reading or for something else, Ajira could not tell nor did she truly care.

Not even the Bosmer's pettiness could dampen her spirit. After years of writing, she was finally an author.

It had been a few months since her brief exile to Vivec but the alchemist had returned to Balmora once again, freed from the Dwemer machinations of the Arch-mage and Edwina Elbert, thank the gods.

Friend Rashid had used his considerable influence in the ranks of the guild, and the Fighters Guild, and House Redoran, and if rumours were true, the Morag Tong, to get Ajira back to Balmora. It was, in her opinion, a bit excessive but she appreciated it nonetheless.

In all his time wandering Vvardenfell, the warrior had turned into a very capable battlemage. He had compressed years of arcane mastery into a single year and was already consulted on subjects regarding all six schools of magic, even ones he was not particularly good at. Such talent could only happen once in a generation.

Inspired by her student's dedication to the magical arts, she immediately went diving into her work with gusto. The fever had triggered a great anxiety in her; had she fallen sick and died right there on the beach or in some godsforsaken tomb, the world would never read her book!

Miraculously, she had found an agent to agree to publish her work, a fellow Khajiit called Jobasha who had family in the publishing world. This she did by herself, with no help from her far more influential student.

The first book of the Alchemist Journals was a modest success, finding a readership amongst highborn teenagers seeking an exotic tale in far off Akavir. The critics appreciated the sassy alchemist heroine and her romance with the beautiful eunuch but others pointed out the inaccuracies of Akaviri culture. Bah, what do they know, it's not like they've been there.

Quill-Weave she was not but Ajira was proud of her work nonetheless. She was already a quarter on her way of writing her second draft. Her research into alchemy, if anything, was more research material for her novel than anything else.

Such in a great mood the Khajiit was that she bought herself a most impressive lunch at her favourite eatery, all for herself.

She was about to dig into the sweet-sour king crab when a dremora seated itself in front of her, a mess of black and red spikes with a ludicrously large sword on its back.

"Begone, creature! You do not know who are you messing wi - oh, it's you, Friend Rashid. Where have you been? Ajira misses you!"

The Redguard placed his dangerously fearsome bear helm on his lap. "Oh, I contacted and survived Corprus and became immune to any and all diseases; found out that I am actually Lord Indoril Nerevar reborn; became Hortartor of the Great Houses; and went to Red Mountain and dueled the Awakened Lord of the Sixth House Dagoth Ur, thus ending the blight storms once and for all."

"Huh, so this one has you to thank for the weather." It was still Morrowind weather, of course, but she did wake up to a blue sky more often than not these days.

"How have you not heard? It was a pretty big deal."

"Ajira willingly spares herself from any political news."

"You know what, I can respect that."

"Hmm, yes, yes, quite impressive, O High and Mighty Near-a-river. But Ajira wrote a book which she thinks is equally impressive, if not more so."

"I heard! I've heard it's quite good, though I agree with the critics with your depictions of Tsaeci martial arts is quite lacking -"

She stabbed her fork at him, bits of meat flying. "Instead of spoiling the day, come and eat this delicious and very expensive king crab whose size Ajira has grossly underestimated."

"Well, if you insist," he said, unclasping his gauntlets.

They did just so, chatting amicably through the slurping of meats and the cracking of crabshell. When they were done, they strolled beside the Odai River, where not an inconsequential amount of people waved at her.

"Ah, this one can get behind the life of a celebrity."

"I think they're waving at me, Ajira."

"Nonsense! Portator you may be, but Khajiit is a great author and renowned alchemist."

"I suppose you are right. Writing a book is probably harder than fighting up a mountain of ash vampires and fighting a god. Regardless, I've a proposition."

She listened intently, and when he was done, she asked, "Really? Friend Rashid will do that for Ajira?"

"I need someone to handle my herbs and potions, and honestly, you're the only one I trust to do the job." He looked eastward, his eyes filled with wanderlust. "We'll sail to Roscrea first, then make our way to Esroniet. Then to Septimia, if that place still exists. I'm recruiting the best sailors from Skyrim and the Summerset Isles for this expedition. The finest marines that the Fighters Guild can provide. Even a scion of House Redoran has lent their wizardry for this."

"But Ajira has duties to the guild - oh, what is she saying, you've handled that already have you?"

"I told the Arch-mage there were some very pristine Dwemer colonies out east, it may provide answers to what happened to them. Even gave me some funding."

"And these colonies, do they even exist?"

"Probably not. I made them up on a whim."

At that, Ajira laughed. Then, her voice became serious. "Ajira is glad that Rashid is her friend."

At this, he patted the smaller woman on the shoulder. "Me too, Ajira. Me too."

She grinned, baring fangs. "Does Rashid think there are beautiful eunuchs out there in the east?"

"We'll find out soon enough. But before all that, have you ever been to Solstheim?"

I was working on a Fallout 1 chapter but unfortunately it wasn't going so well. So I switched to Merchant Prince, was about 40% done with it, before the server alerted me for the competition. Might as well return to Vvardenfell for a while, it's like coming home.

As for why Ajira? I liked her. I do very much vibe with the catfolk in Tamriel, as you may have already guessed from my previous Morrowind oneshot. She was easy enough to write around, I find.

Overall, I'm pretty proud of this oneshot. Rashid himself is not the first Rashid I've made. The first Rashid was a Kind Wayfarer Fire Godlike Paladin in Pillars of Eternity I and II. The second Rashid is partly the one you've been reading about, Rashid Al-Saif, Windblade. He is more or less the same Rashid you see here with all the skills and stats. The latest Rashid is another Rashid Al-Saif, Tarnished and Elden Lord. I don't know if we'll ever see those other Rashids, but who knows.

Back to Merchant Prince. See you either at the end of January or early February. And Happy New Year everyone.