Previously: Lildereth and Darnand learned the location of the Mythic Dawn’s Shrine and met with Baurus. Lildereth intends to infiltrate the cult disguised as the Novitiate. In Morrowind Jerric, Kjestrid, Shamir-do, and Nereli got permission to travel through Moonshadow. Gjaever headed to Skyrim on his own.
Acadian: Argh, I had the worst time proofreading the last segment. I lost my changes twice! Thank you for finding those nits. Lildereth and Darnand are entirely responsible for writing their scene in Green Emperor Way. I was just lucky to be there to write it down.
Thank you, Acadian!
treydog: I can imagine how much Baurus must want to go all Jerric on the Mythic Dawn up at the lake. Lildereth is in her element planning a solo infiltration. Gosh, I hope her plan works out!
Thank you, treydog!
SubRosa: I took your suggestion and replaced “sketchy-looking” with “sly.” It has taken two timelines to get everyone back together!
I have software now for the next time I do this! I am looking forward to writing the Lildereth POV sections, since she made such a good plan.
Thank you, SubRosa!
ghastley: I enjoyed Darnand picking up Lil’s cues in that scene. If it had been Jerric they would probably have ended up in jail. Thank you, ghastley!
Next: Let’s catch up with Jerric and friends in Morrowind.
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Chapter 18: The Path of Dawn, Part Ten
The portal was taller than an Altmer in a Harvest’s End headdress and wide enough for two orcs to pass through side by side. Brilliant light ringed a swirling plane of purple and pink mist. Streaks of gold seeped out, expanded into sparkles, and glittered away. From their place in line Jerric could see the Reverend Mother Ra’tayah at its side flanked by a pair of winged twilights. If holding the portal open was a strain, she did not show it.
“Keep moving,” called an acolyte. “Step through and continue walking straight. You have to make room for those behind you.”
Kjestrid looked paler than usual. Her knuckles showed red and white where she clenched her pack straps.
They took two steps forward.
“It’s the waiting,” she muttered. “Gjaever had a good point.”
“It’s no different from the last portal you entered,” said Nereli.
“Khajiit expects it to be entirely different.”
The portal flared with roseate light, then resumed its former brightness. They took two more steps.
“They say we’ll be half-blind in there,” Jerric said. “I wonder if that will be permanent.”
The Dunmer man in front of them turned to speak over his shoulder. “Your first time?”
“Yeah.”
“Ours, too.” He indicated the mer at his side. “We’re moving to Far Withing. Going to open up a tailor shop.”
“Where’s Far Withing?”
“Past Strawberry Fields, I’m told. We’ll have to find our own way I suppose, once we’re through quarantine.”
Shamir-do hissed under his breath.
“What quarantine?” Kjestrid demanded.
They took two steps forward.
“We’ll be at the migrants’ camp for a few weeks,” the Dunmer said. “Didn’t they tell you in your interview?”
Jerric decided that they were not going to stay in any camp. He cut his eyes at Kjestrid.
She gave him a little head shake. They’d solve this on the other side.
As the family in front of the two Dunmeri men stepped into the portal, Ma’sani bustled up. Renlys walked a pace behind her, loaded down with luggage. They had exchanged their temple robes for travel gear. Neither wore armor or visible weapons.
“Renlys will go through first with Dozara,” Ma’sani told them. “Then you four, and Ma’sani will follow.”
The portal flared again, and it was their turn.
“Just like the last one, only without the fire and blood,” Kjestrid said under her breath.
“Right.”
As Dozara’s tail tip disappeared into the portal’s mist, the acolyte made an impatient gesture. Jerric and Kjestrid stepped through.
The disorienting spin and lurch felt the same as entering the Deadlands. Despite what his senses tried to tell him, the ground was firm and level under his feet. Hands gripped his forearms and ushered him forward while his eyes adjusted.
The hushed babble of awed folk sounded over a gentle chorus of nearby bells. The air felt light and smelled sweeter than any garden. Water trickled somewhere close.
“Half-blinded,” Kjestrid said. “I guess now we know.”
The sky looked like the inside of a giant conch shell pierced with pale stars, but grey twilight veiled his eyes when he squinted at Kjestrid. He found her doing the same.
“I think it’s just the light,” Jerric said, hoping to make it true.
“Our Lady created Khajiit for her realm,” Shamir-do said, the cat-like burr strong in his voice. His pupils had widened until they were nearly round.
As the newcomers staggered through the portal, two Khajiit helped them move along to where an officious-looking Imperial was organizing them into a line. He wore silk draped over both shoulders, belted at the waist and open at the sides. That seemed like a good indication that Moonshadow’s climate would remain this comfortable.
“Follow this one,” Ma’sani said. Chin high and ears relaxed, she led them past their fellow travelers. The Imperial acknowledged her with the slightest of bows. Jerric supposed that parchment-pushers must find work in any realm.
“Is the sun rising or setting?” Kjestrid asked.
“Neither.” Ma’sani gestured in a circle, indicating the horizon. “Moonshadow is a realm of dusk and dawn. Here we watch the moons to count our days.”
Jerric recalled the colored plates of the mortal realms and night skies he had studied in school. They made no more sense to him now than they had at the time.
“Since there is always some light, folk choose their own schedules,” Ma’sani continued. “In Moonshadow it is customary to spend eight hours in work, eight hours at personal pursuits, and eight hours at rest.”
“So when a meal is served someone will always be having breakfast?” asked Jerric.
Ma’sani’s whiskers assumed an amused angle. “Nords! Of course, this one should have explained it with meals.”
Now that Jerric’s eyes had adjusted, he could see reasonably well. They stood near a road in a broad meadow of shin-high grass with silvery seed heads. A breeze made it dance in waves like ripples of water. Jerric could feel no sense of direction. What looked like distant mountains behind a blue haze could be cloud banks. Dark shapes against the horizon might be patches of trees. Four-legged creatures moved in a herd through the grass. They did not appear frightened or threatening. Perhaps they were some sort of deer. His stomach rumbled.
The line of immigrants walked away from them along a well-trampled foot path, Jerric guessed to the camp they had been told about.
Ma’sani led them onto the road. “We will walk to the village of Rosehaven. There we will await our Lady’s call.”
Jerric shortened his strides to match Ma’sani’s. He was relieved that they hadn't needed to argue their way out of a quarantine period, but the sense that this shortcut could cost them more time still needled him. “How long will that take?”
“As long as it takes.”
“What’s going to happen, exactly?”
Ma’sani’s ears flicked as if an insect had buzzed against them. “Our Lady Azura, Mother of the Rose, and Prince of this realm will bring us into her presence. Ma’sani knows not when that will be. The Queen of Twilight does not submit her plans for this one’s approval.”
Kjestrid gave him a straight-armed nudge to shove him into position beside Nereli and took the place at Ma’sani’s side. Shamir-do dropped to the rear next to Renlys, still guarding Jerric’s back.
Dozara raised her great wings and sprang into the air on their downward sweep. She held her tail lifted in a curve and legs back like a crane as she flew. Perhaps she used magic. Even with her magnificent wingspan, she had too much body for mundane flight. Jerric had to crack his neck after she flew over. Nereli was similarly entranced by the winged twilight. Belatedly he remembered that he was not supposed to stare.
I think I got away with it.“I’ve never seen paving stones so smooth,” Kjestrid remarked. “I can’t feel the seams at all.”
“There are no seams,” said Ma’sani. “These roads are laid down by whistling snails. They are constantly renewing the surface. They call to each other to know where they should be. The roads are as wide as one snail, so they dislike passing one another.”
Jerric touched the surface with his fingertips, then his whole hand. “It’s like pearl.”
“Yes. Ma’sani thinks it is similar. This one has only seen one once.” She sighed. “Our Lady’s realm is full of wonders.”
“Khajiit believes he has made the right decision,” Shamir-do said.
“Are you leaving us, cat?” asked Jerric.
“No. But never again will the thought of this one’s death sting.”
If Jerric’s sense of time could be trusted, the village was a ten minute walk from the portal site. The houses had thatched roofs and half-timbered walls filled in with plaster. Light glowed from some of their windows. Gardens were fenced and tidy, walkways were swept, and the chickens well-mannered.
“Thank, uh, Azura,” Jerric said. “Chickens!”
On second look, the chickens were some kind of lizard. He gave Nereli an elbow and raised brows.
“Bantam guar,” Nereli said.
“Do they lay eggs?”
Ma’sani’s tail gave a merry swish. Her eyes squinted with humor when she turned. “We will take our ease at the inn. Fear not, human! Our Lady’s guests do not go hungry in Moonshadow.”
Air gusted as Dozara swooped around and lightly landed. She tossed her head to flip the ponytail back over her shoulder.
“I wonder if they’ll make us wear their robes again,” said Nereli.
“You needn’t worry about your clothing,” said Ma’sani. “In Morrowind, it was an endless battle to keep the ash…”
The Khajiit’s raspy voiced faded as light flared all around. Jerric found himself floating in a lavender cloud. The air tasted of star-cloves and smelled almost like jasmine, but not quite.
“I have seen your name, child of Kyne, and heard it whispered in twilight.” A figure materialized before him, too far away to touch. At first it seemed made of golden light, then he saw that she carried a light in each hand. If they were the moon and star as portrayed in her statue, he couldn’t tell. The glare was too strong.
“My Lady,” said Jerric.
Dammit, what am I supposed to call her?“You have asked a boon of me. In return I require of you a service.”
The voice echoed in his bones. His legs twitched involuntarily. “What service can I offer the Queen of Dawn and Dusk?”
“Many years ago in Cyrodiil, five of my faithful slew the vampire Dratik and its kin, but all were infected by the foul creatures. Knowing their fate, they sealed themselves up in the vampire’s lair. Their suffering weighs heavily upon me. Travel from my shrine to the Gutted Mine. The door will open to you. Bring the peace of death to my followers, and I will consider your debt to me fulfilled.”
“I will do as you asked, Lady of the, uh, Night Sky.”
The light faded into her eyes and hands, and for a moment Azura allowed Jerric to see her. She seemed made of silver with black hair that drifted as if they were under water. Her laugh felt like nails grazing his skin. “Welcome to Moonshadow, Jerric of Kvatch.”