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Gulls cried overhead as they glided high above the Senchal docks. Kaatima sat in the shade, watching the dockworkers work. The battle against Kaalgrontiid had taken a lot out of her. Every muscle in her body ached and protested each time she moved even just a little bit. Though, she wondered, if the spell that Abnur Tharn had used on her a few weeks prior in order to power the aeonstones, had contributed to how rough she was feeling. If only he was here for her to ask.
Abnur Tharn… The thought of the old battlemage had her throat constrict and tears brim in her eyes. He had not been her favourite person in Tamriel, not by a long shot. More often than not the two had often clashed with each other while they worked to take down Mannimarco and his Daedric Prince master. This time around though, as they worked to fix the mistake they had both contributed to involving the Halls of Colossus and the release of dragons upon Elsweyr, something had been different about him. There had still been an argument here and there, but not nearly as close to like it had been before. Oblivion, she had even started to like him and consider him a friend. And, if his finally words to her had been anything to go by, it had been the same for him.
Now he was gone. Dead. Sacrificing himself to stop the dragon’s ascension into godhood. She should have been there as well. Damn his stubbornness to Oblivion.
When Nahfahlaar had returned to the Dragonhold Sanctum she had held onto some hope that he had also survived it somehow. But if he had, surely he should have returned by now? Which only meant that the worst had come to pass.
Kaatima remembered clearly how he had been before he had left Northern Elsweyr. Abnur had been tired. Was it his age finally coming to catch up to him? He had certainly lived far longer than any Imperial should. His tiredness had been worse when he and Khamira showed up to the Sanctum. Even using his magic had very clearly been a great effort.
Her ears were flat against her head, the tip of her tail swishing, as tears made tracks in her fur down her face. How many more people was she going to watch die? How many more would she arrive too late to save or would needlessly sacrifice themselves? She hadn’t asked for what had happened her. To become the Vestige, the only person seemingly capable of saving the world over and over and over again.
All of it was getting to be far too much. She couldn’t keep doing this.
Arms wrapped around her and familiar scent filled her nose as she was pulled close to his body. Kaatima buried her face into the crook of his neck. She was grateful he was there and that she wasn’t alone right now.
“Raz was told he would find you here,” Raz said softly. “He heard what happened and he’s sorry about your friend.”
“She can’t do this anymore Raz. She cannot keep watching friends die.”
He hummed. “This one knows. You have done more for all of Tamriel than most with barely any rest between. So Raz thought that we could get away from it all, just you and him, for a little while.”
She pulled away from, wiping her tears away with the back of her hand. “What? What about Queen Ayrenn? What if she needs you?”
“Queen Ayrenn will know where to find us, should she need to. Do you really think Raz would plan such a trip without telling her?”
She shook her head. “Of course not. Kaatima would love to escape with you,” she replied. Escaping it all with the one she loved most; it sounded absolutely perfect. Weeks prior she had acknowledged how they barely ever saw each other. This would provide them with a chance to reconcent properly. As well as allow her the time she needed to grieve.
He stood up and offered her his hand. She took it and let him pull her up onto her feet and then into a hug, where he nuzzled against her.
“Good because Raz already took it upon himself to organise a ship for us.”
Kaatima laughed softly. Of course he had.