Episode 1: Outlanders

  Chapter 5

  Slimy as the scrib had been, Daria had to admit that something in the kitchen smelled good.

  While Jane busied herself with the meal, Daria sat in the crowded little junk shop with J'dash, an older Khajiit with streaks of white in his russet fur. He rested in his chair, wrapped in a threadbare linen robe, his left hand grasping a clay cup filled with warm mazte. J'dash's golden eyes fixed on the far wall, as if he could see through it to the distant jungles and deserts of sugar-blessed Elsweyr.

  Daria sipped her own mazte, the drink's earthy taste adding to the warmth. Candles flickered on the table, the flames like red jewels in the dark. Her family, Synda, and the Camonna Tong all felt very far away. J'dash's long tail swished on the dirt floor as meat sizzled against hot clay in the kitchen.

  "It's almost ready!" Jane called.

  Jane came out a few minutes later, the scrib coiled up on a big redware plate. Daria breathed in the smell, thick and buttery with a hint of herbs. It still looked like a bug, but insulting her friend by refusing wasn't an option. She'd already eaten scrib jelly, so this couldn't be much worse. Except seeing it there in front of her, its too-many legs glistening in the candlelight, reminded Daria of exactly what she'd be consuming.

  "Ahh, Dunmer is a good cook," J'dash said, his eyes on Jane.

  "Oh, don't listen to him. Seriously, don't. Life's easier when expectations are low. Anyway, cooking's not my strong point, but I did pick up a few tricks over the years. Meals like this don't come often, so you want to make the best of them.

  Jane took a seat and uttered a quiet prayer. J'dash lowered his head in respect, perhaps thinking of his own gods. When she finished, he extended his left hand, fingers outspread. Polished white claws slid out from the fur, and he stuck one into a gap between the segments. Daria's teeth clenched as she watched, wondering about the Khajiit's hygiene and feeling a bit guilty for doing so.

  The scrib suddenly snapped, the soft flesh beneath the shell exposed to the air. A heavenly scent wafted out. Purring, J'dash motioned for Daria and Jane to dig in. Jane tore a chunk of scrib flesh from under the shell and popped it into her mouth with relish.

  Not letting herself show her unease, Daria reached in. The sauce's heat stung her fingertips, and she pulled back, more from surprise than from pain. Trying again, she gripped a piece of meat and ripped it free, not allowing for any hesitation before she put it in her mouth.

  Hot, crisp, and tender, with only a trace of the sourness. Juices burst between her teeth as she chewed, a bone-deep warmth spreading throughout her entire body.

  "This is delicious!" she exclaimed.

  "See, our cuisine has its high points," Jane said.

  Daria tore off another piece, the many-legged monster before her suddenly as appetizing as a holiday feast in the old country. She'd never tasted anything quite like it before; the flavor alien but somehow perfectly aligned to her palate. Maybe, she thought, there was something worthwhile in Morrowind. It wasn't easy to find, but it was there. And finding it ushered her into a very select group, one bound together by this knowledge of secret splendor.

  They finished all too soon. Leaning back in their chairs, all uncomfortably full, they nonetheless accepted drinks as J'dash broke open another jug of mazte. All of Daria's cares seemed to spiral away in the comforting darkness.

  "This one is pleased, but thinks it is a shame that Dunmer's brother could not share in this meal," J'dash said.

  "I'm sure Trent's having a grand old time up in Caldera. Assuming he's still employed. Which is a pretty big assumption."

  "Trent?" Daria asked.

  "My brother. The only blood relation I have in Morrowind. He's a musician, so he's on the road a lot. Usually, he plays for room and board at whatever cornerclub will take him. He'll come by here eventually."

  Daria nodded. How long had Jane been on her own? Part of her envied Jane for it. How nice it'd be to not have to watch out for Quinn or deal with her parents' relentless social climbing. Just shut herself away in a little apartment with a job for the day and books for the night. A fatherly landlord like J'dash might be a nice bonus.

  Couldn't be easy, though. Not if Jane got that excited over what seemed to be a fairly basic food item.

  "Where are your parents?" Daria asked. "If you don't mind my asking."

  "They left for Cyrodiil, oh, I don't know... eight years ago? No clue if they're still there. Dad's a painter like me and Mom's a sculptor, so they go wherever there's work. I've allegedly got another sibling, Penelope, but no clue where she might be."

  J'dash made a rasping sigh. "Khajiit had many kin once, in the land where the sun is warm upon the sands. But the world is a cruel place, and drove this one to damp and chilly Morrowind. Strange place for Khajiit, yes?" He looked at Daria. "And where is Imperial's family?"

  "In the Commercial District," she said, feeling a little abashed. She wondered if J'dash's journey to Morrowind had been a voluntary one but didn't think it was right to pry.

  "Imperial is fortunate," J'dash said. "The world is cold, but shared blood makes it warmer."

  "Uh, yeah. Fortunate." Daria took another sip of her mazte, the alcohol in the brew warding away some of the awkwardness. She heard no judgment in J'dash's words. Only a statement of fact.

  She was lucky in some ways.

  *********

  Jane refused to let Daria wander alone through the darkened streets of Labor Town and insisted on her staying the night. The two girls retreated up to the apartment. Daria, for her part, refused to let Jane give her the makeshift bed, so she sat on the narrow bench and leaned against the rough wall. Not an easy position to sleep in, but she'd had worse on the long boat ride to Morrowind.

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  She woke up to a sliver of dawn's light, reddened by a fresh plume of smoke from Red Mountain. A hint of brimstone in the morning air stung her nostrils and made her eyes water. Behind her, Jane yawned.

  "Hope you slept okay," Jane said, her voice still sluggish from sleep.

  "Well enough." Daria groped for her glasses and found them next to a set of brushes. The foggy world turned sharp once the lenses came over her eyes.

  "Do you have to go to Drenlyn today?" Jane asked.

  "No. This is one of the days where I help my mom provide legal protection for greedy Imperial merchants."

  "Fun," Jane said, yawning again. "No sessions for me today, either. I'm not really a morning person, so I think I'm going to sleep a bit longer. Feel free to stay."

  "I should probably go," Daria said.

  Jane was already asleep.

  Daria crept down the stairs on stiff legs; the morning streets already busy with workers. Following landmarks she'd noticed on the way there, she soon reached the stone bridges spanning the Odai River, the equally busy but slightly neater Commercial District on the other side. Crossing the bridge, she then went past Drenlyn's campus, where a few early risers had already walked through the gates with their bookbags. Curiosity led her to scan the courtyard for Synda, but she saw no sign of the girl. Synda didn't strike her as someone who'd wake up any earlier than absolutely necessary.

  The academy disappeared behind another row of adobe stores. Daria squeezed through a shaded alleyway that led behind the milliner's shop. Home wasn't far.

  Pain exploded in her left side, right beneath the ribcage. Daria staggered, her arms flailing as she tried to reorient herself. Another hit, this time on her right, and she fell forward. Palms smacked painfully against the stone road as she halted her fall.

  "I'll be taking these," came Synda's haughty voice.

  A hand wrenched the glasses from Daria's face. The street turned into a muddle of harsh light and muted colors.

  "Synda? Dammit, I need those!" she yelled.

  "Oh, I'm sure you do."

  A figure, blurred to little more than a shadow, stepped in front of Daria. Daria bared her teeth. Fear and rage coursed through her, her hands ready to strike.

  If only she could see.

  Another blow cracked against her back, and she dropped to her belly. Her teeth cut into the side of her mouth, blood rushing over her tongue and down her throat. Two figures went around her to flank their boss.

  Fear started to overwhelm rage. She had to stay calm.

  "What do you want?" Daria asked, her words distorted by the swelling wound in her mouth.

  "Want? It's not what I want; it's what I demand. You Imperials think you can walk all over us. I'm here to tell you that we Dunmer do not respond well to threats."

  "What was I supposed to do?" Daria wheezed. "You tried to take my sister—"

  "Your sister was no more than a curiosity. What matters is your attitude. I will not accept your insults or threats. And neither will the Cammona Tong."

  Daria froze. This couldn't be happening.

  Something fell to the ground in front of her. Straining her eyes, she could barely make out a glittering object on the street. Synda's foot slammed down, and the sound of splintering glass left no doubt as to what she'd just crushed.

  "You insulted the honor of my people and family. Not like you Imperials care about family. I could have killed you, but I decided to be forgiving and just destroy those weird things you always wear," Synda said. "I'll consider us even. But if you decide to escalate... make sure you're ready. And I don't recommend telling anyone about this, because that will most certainly escalate things."

  Daria tried to scoop up the shattered spectacles. She gasped as glass cut her fingers.

  She heard footsteps and laughter as Synda departed with her thugs in tow.

  *********

  "Here's your money, or whatever," Synda said, once they were a safe distance away. She handed a few septims to each of the two toughs.

  "I'll take it, but I don't like you telling outlanders that we're part of the Cammona Tong," said the bigger of the two, Todis. "If the real Cammona Tong finds out that we've been pretending—"

  "They won't. You did your job, and that's the last either of us will hear about it. She didn't see you, and I'm sure she'll be too scared to do anything."

  Todis shook his head. "Still a dumb idea. You should've warned us you were going to do that."

  Synda sniffed. She brushed off her dress once the toughs departed to whatever cesspit had spawned them. Sure she was clean, Synda returned to Drenlyn Academy.

  All outlanders revolted her, but the Imperials most of all. Each was a tyrant and a liar, hiding steel with honeyed words and false treaties. And they brought their lackeys with them: savage Nords, half-breed Bretons, and the decadent Altmer her ancestors had fled so long ago. So too came the taxes; her family's business now funding the war machine that suppressed them. Morrowind reduced to a sideshow, its ancient bloodlines of honor and faith kowtowing for the pleasure of plump Imperial bureaucrats.

  The Imperials couldn't even show basic decency to their own kind. Her stomach turned at the memory of Quinn denying her sisterhood with Daria. She'd been so willing to sacrifice the bonds of blood to avoid embarrassment. How did such a people survive long enough to conquer the world?

  They might have conquered the world, but they'd never conquer her spirit.

  *********

  No one back in Cyrodiil had known how to deal with Daria. Her sharp tongue had punctured even the proudest and boldest. She knew words.

  She did not know violence.

  Daria suspected her family's safety depended on her covering her tracks. She'd cast aside the handful of copper drakes in her pockets and stumbled around blind until a guard found her. She'd almost bolted at the sound of his voice, the throaty rasp unmistakably Dunmer, but he'd been kind enough.

  A robbery. That's what she told her parents. And as they gasped, fretted, and hugged her, she burned inside, knowing it wasn't the truth. That for all of the Empire's might, her family was small and surrounded by hostility. Daria lied, and she lied well. She kept the story simple, and the details consistent. There was doubt in mom's tone, but Daria had been her mother's best pupil.

  Dad at least found a Dunmer glassmaker who said she might be able to recreate the lenses. So he took the shards to her while Daria waited.

  Blindness rendered the world incomprehensible. She opened up a book and ran her fingers across the pages, as if she could feel the patterns of the ink and turn them into words and images.

  "Uh, Daria?" came Quinn's voice.

  "What?"

  "That Dunmer girl at school was asking about you."

  Daria turned cold.

  "Which one?"

  "Me."

  Daria raised her eyes from the book. The hazy gray figure next to Quinn gave her pause. All Dunmer sounded so similar. She tensed, beads of sweat forming on her brow.

  "Daria?" Jane said.

  "Oh!" Daria blurted out, trying to regain her composure. The events of the last few weeks spun around Daria's head, and she took a deep breath to calm down.

  "I noticed you hadn't been in for a while. I asked Quinn, and she told me what happened."

  "Uh, thanks, Quinn," Daria mumbled, blushing as she did.

  "Sure," Quinn said. "I'll leave you two alone."

  Daria relaxed as her sister's footsteps grew more distant.

  "I'd get up to hug you, Jane, but at this point I'm just as likely to knock you over."

  "Hey, I like a bit of risk, but if it makes things easier..."

  Jane put her arms around Daria, squeezing gently before letting go.

  "Do you want to talk about what happened?" Jane asked. "Quinn said it was a robbery..."

  Daria thought about it. Was it safe for Jane to know?

  "Yeah. A robbery."

  "That really sucks. I've never been robbed, but it's happened to Trent a few times. Guess you got unlucky. What about your glasses?"

  "Dad says he might be able to finagle a new pair. Let's hope he's right. There's not much demand for a savant who can't read or write."

  "Right. You know, since I'm here, I could read out loud for you."

  Warmth welled up in Daria's chest. She'd been stuck in her own head for days on end.

  "If you don't mind," she said, keeping her voice steady.

  "Nah, it's fine. Which book do you want?"

  "Could you get A Dance in Fire? It's the brown one with the red bookmark."

  "I think I see it."

  Daria heard the book being slid out from the shelf and the comforting sound of rustling pages. She could escape once more.

  And this time, take someone with her.

  Musical Closer -

  End of Episode 1