#armir

“Are you cold?” Frea asked. “Here.” She handed Avalynn a heavy hide blanket.

“Thanks,” Avalynn replied, graciously taking the blanket and wrapping it around her shoulders.

She’d been in the cold of Skyrim plenty of times, but the sheer difference in temperature from the Skaal village to Raven Rock was throwing her body temperature off. Over the chattering of her teeth, Avalynn could hear the wind whistling through whatever cracks it could find in the house. Each whistle made her teeth louder.

“Do you like bristleback stew?”

Frea was stirring something in the pot over the fire; the hearty aroma caused a gnawing sensation in Avalynn’s stomach, and it growled in response to Frea’s question.

“I’ve never had it,” Avalynn said. “It smells great, though.”

The scent of herbs and meat hung in the air, following Frea as she joined Avalynn on the floor in front of the fireplace. It was strange, sitting there in an unfamiliar house in an unfamiliar land and not feeling completely out of place. Frea had been welcoming, granted it was likely motivated by the fact that Avalynn had helped uncover the source behind the Skaal’s enthralling, but it was still generous. Though, Frea’s father, Storn, gave an ominous warning that left Avalynn feeling uneasy.

You could save us... or you could bring about our destruction.

“Frea,” Avalynn began. “What is Miraak’s story?”

“His story is as old as Solstheim itself,” Frea said. “They say it was a great battle between Miraak and another of the dragon priests that tore the island from the mainland. I am unsure of the truth in this story. Much of what is known has been lost through the ages.”

She adjusted her seated position, bunching up the furs they sat on in the process. 

“Miraak served the dragons before their fall from power,” she continued. “As most did. A priest in their order, but unlike most, he turned against them. He made his own path, and his actions cost him dearly.”

“That’s not a decision made lightly,” Avalynn remarked. “What made him turn against them?”

Frea shrugged before continuing. “The stories say he sought to claim Solstheim for himself, and the dragons destroyed him for it.”

“Obviously, that last part’s wrong,” Avalynn said, more to herself than Frea.

“Yes, it would seem so.”

She stood and returned to the pot to stir the stew. The warmth of her body followed, leaving Avalynn with a new wave of cold.

“I do not know what it is Miraak learned that gave him reason to turn on his masters,” Frea spoke as she continued stirring. “Perhaps it was the discovery that he was Dragonborn. Perhaps he felt he no longer owed allegiance to that which he could devour. With his temple in ruins, I do not believe we will ever have the answer.”

With the stew finished, Frea gathered two bowls and filled them with the hearty food. She offered one to Avalynn who accepted graciously. Frea returned to her spot on the floor as Avalynn wasted no time scooping a spoonful of stew in her mouth.

“Careful!” Frea warned, shooting a concerned look at Avalynn. “It will scorch your mouth.”

Avalynn smiled as she swallowed another spoonful.

“Your tongue tends to stop feeling heat when you can Shout fire,” Avalynn explained.

The stew settled well in her stomach, warming her better than the blanket or fire. Avalynn took another bite, gnawing on the boar meat and finding it pleasantly salted.

“Is that all that’s know about him?” she asked after finishing her food. “It seems like so little, like it’s just a myth.”

“You have seen him yourself,” she countered. “He is as real as you and I. His temple has been a grim reminder of the cruel path he walked those long millennia ago.”