On His Mane's Secret Service
Chapter 13

“There,” Number One said triumphantly. “Even the Argonians recognize the truth of the future we have seen, even if they don’t believe in our ability to affect it. Surely now you can see the wisdom of this alliance?”

The Mane whispered something to Isdra, who addressed the meeting next.

“We would like a moment to consult privately, honored guests. Perhaps five minutes?”

Ra’Jirra stood, interrupting and knowingly breaking protocol.

“Wait one moment. I have one question first,” she began. She could feel the eyes of Isdra on her, but she ignored her for the moment.

“The images we just saw here… This is exactly what I was shown before. Why is that? Can you see another scene from this future?”

The Altmer murmured among themselves before Number One gave his answer.

“One of our greatest mages was able to pierce the veil of time to bring us the images you saw. It was his life’s work to do so, and brought that to us some years past. Only our greatest magic users are able to reproduce that summoning at substantial cost, but we have not yet been able to fathom much of what goes into the magic - just to reproduce it. Unfortunately the mage has been lost to us since. Until we can fully understand how it is done, this is all we are able to produce visually.”

“So,” Ra’Jirra continued, ignoring protests by Isdra, “what we have seen may just be one part of a wider world. It could be that Tamriel has become segregated in this future. Would you not concede that there could be many explanations for this vision beyond all our kin having been wiped out?”

Number One became visibly incensed, responding with an increasing vehemence, “The visuals we have shown you here are not our only evidence of our impending extinction, young Khajiit. They are simply the easiest method of exhibiting that doom to others who do not know the way of scrying such things. But the signs are there, be assured! They are obvious, if you look for them!”

Ra’Jirra may have been stung a bit by the ‘young Khajiit’ reference, but she sat back down, having made her point. She felt it was important to sew some doubt in the Mane’s eyes after the Argonians and the Hist had seemingly reinforced the Altmer’s interpretation.

“Thank you, Number One,” Isdra concluded. “Let us confer privately then - but please let us remain inside the conference room. Our meeting here must come to some decision on this matter, and do so today, we are agreed. Such a meeting of our races cannot be assumed to be something that can become commonplace.”

“Agreed, Prime Concubine. We do not request specifics in this meeting, but the Mer are a proud people. We do not look for alliances from other races on a whim. We expect not to be clear on our actions yet moving forward, but we do expect a resolution to be made that such action is necessary and that we can all agree on its objectives. This is the time, and this meeting cannot end without a resolution, one way or the other.”

With that, the three Khajiits rose and adjourned to a small area far from the center conference table where they spoke quietly in Ta’agra.

“You will not interrupt me again, Ra’Jirra,” Isdra said sweetly but with menace in her voice when they sat down.

Ra’Jirra began to offer her apology, but the Mane interrupted. “Now Isdra, I wanted Ra’Jirra here specifically to offer her insights, and she made a good one - one which, by the way, no one else could have noticed I’ll point out.”

“Still, decorum demands…” Isdra responded irritably.

“Decorum be damned. She’s here to speak her mind. I won’t have her be silenced by decorum.”

Isdra nodded, chagrined.

“That being said, I still have to lean towards agreeing with the Altmer. Racial politics aside, we’ve had our own suspicions that our future is in jeopardy. Of all the intelligent races of Tamriel, ours is the the most fragile. Ra’Jirra, let’s assume for a moment that their argument is valid. Would you have us go the way of our brothers the Lilmothiit, without a fight, only because one of our allies is headed by the Dominion?”

“Interesting you bring the Lilmothiit up,” Ra’Jirra replied. “considering it was most likely the Argonians that wiped them out. No, no need to argue. I like the Argonians. They don’t meddle in others’ affairs for the most part. But I just don’t see any way to stop the Humans’ advances. Honestly the civil war between Hammerfell and Cyrodiil is probably the best way. However, I just can’t in all conscience agree to assist in slaughtering millions of innocents just because they are too successful! Whatever the future holds for us, unless the Humans are actively trying to massacre us, I can’t rectify such actions as being… well… Good.”

“I understand, young Khajiit. But in my position, you must accept that sometimes you must act against common morality for the well-being of your people. I’m afraid this may be one of those times. I see my purpose as just this - to safeguard Elsweyr and the whole of the Khajiit race, and this is exactly the threat I need to recognize. And if we make this agreement, we need not get directly involved in a war, after all.”

“Just facilitate it,” Ra’Jirra muttered, but she recognized the truth of what the Mane said. She realized just how much she would hate to wield such power. Decisions this man made, for good or ill, would change history, and he had to make them with insufficient information every day.

The three rose and resumed their place at the table. The Altmer too returned from where they had been conferring, though the Argonians hadn’t left the table at all.

Once they had all sat back down, Isdra began again. “Histess, have you - or the Hist - anything to add concerning the question of this future? Is the vision just a local thing, or does this future portend our extinction?”

The Histess rose, and began to pace around the table, all eyes following her.

“The future they see is the future the Hist expects to pass. In it, no Khajiit, Mer or Argonian will inhabit the entirety of Nirn. The vision is not mistaken, nor just a local scene.”

She stopped at a window, seemingly daydreaming as she looked up at the clouds beyond.

“The Hist have more to say, but it is not my place to utter it. I see them only dimly, and I am the best suited for my role of my kind. We hold onto intelligence so fiercely, compared to you, because we know what it is not to have it. The Hist have been so kind to us, and we will never be grateful enough. But to you, who come by intelligence naturally… You could commune with them so much more clearly than we can. We will always be their servants, as long as they will have us. But you… you may become their equals someday.”

She had turned around and was looking directly at Ra’Jirra now.

Number One stood up and faced the Histess.

“You talk in riddles, Argonian. Speak clearly. What do you mean? The Hist, whatever the hell they really are… they don’t speak to us!”

The room went quiet when Ra’Jirra spoke up.

“They speak to me.”

The Histess nodded, and walked back towards her place.

“It is time, Ra’Jirra. Let the Hist speak through you. I cannot understand them as well as you. You are needed now, Khajiitmother, favored of the Hist. Tell these what the Hist tell you. My role here is almost complete. It is your time.”

“What does she mean?” Isdra demanded.

“I… Two days ago I drank of Hist Sap, at the Hist’s request,” Ra’Jirra began. “Apparently it allows some sort of conduit to them, if they allow it. They have allowed it for me. I can talk to them, in a way.”

“You?!” Number One stood. “Why you of all creatures?! What do they tell you?”

The Histess interrupted before he could finish. “It is not for you to say who the Hist chooses to reveal themselves to,” she said, then turned a bit mirthful. “Besides,” she said, hefting her ample breasts tauntingly, “I wouldn’t let you near these pretty things!”

Number One scowled in disgust, but Ra’Jirra had closed her eyes and was seeking that place in her mind where she met with the beings known as the Hist. They asked something of her then. At first, she recoiled, but then she reconsidered. They wanted to speak through her - to let her allow them to use her voice and the parts of her brain that controlled it and formed it into words. They had rescued her fiance from the Alfiq curse, after all. She relented, putting them off for one more moment.

“I am going to be speaking for the Hist now, Mane. If you approve,” she said, allowing the leader of her race to decide.

The Mane nodded, speaking for the first time at the conference table. “Please do, Ra’Jirra. What does the Hist have to say?”

Then she released herself to the beings known collectively as the Hist, closing her eyes as she performed what she could best describe as a translation with no original language.

“We are the Hist of Argonia,” she began. No change in tone could have been detected, because Ra’Jirra was still fully present. She felt she was just reciting lines in a play, but the words came from outside herself rather than text on a paper.

“We bring you greetings, assembled Altmer, Dunmer and Khajiit. We have knowledge which you need now, in order to make this decision. You are afraid of the Humans. You are right to be afraid. The Humans wield much power, and will wield even more in the future as magic fades. The future of Nirn belongs to them.”

Ra’Jirra heard the murmurings around her, but continued on.

“However, not all here need fear for your own kind’s future. Nirn is not enough for all of the races as you grow. But there is more than Nirn. The Lilmothiit have left this world already, but their numbers were few. Yours are many. Your transport must be much more powerful than theirs.”

Ra’Jirra felt weird, realizing that she was learning from her own words, while the gasps from the other attendees were audible around her. But she kept her eyes closed, continuing to translate.

“For thousands of years we have been growing the vessel that can accomplish it. Thousands of years more must pass before it is fully grown. But the vision the Altmer have shown, while true, is not complete. In time they may be able to view more of the future, but even then it will not be enough - for they cannot view the entirety of the future. The have not seen the event wherein some races will be shepherded from Nirn to their new home. They have not seen the grieving that the Humans will wail when they are left alone on this world, for they are not to blame. A mother has left you races here to grow in this nest, but the nest cannot hold all of you forever. It is for this reason the Hist were sent here. We will help some of you fly from the nest. But not all.”

Ra’Jirra opened her eyes, expecting some reaction from Number One, but all sat watching her as if transfixed by an Oracle. She continued…

“The Argonians, our beloved race, must leave with us of course. Without us, they cannot hope to vie with the Humans or the other races, and our genetic modifications cannot transform them quickly enough into self-intelligent beings. But we have longed for others to join them. The Lilmothiit were a gentle people, but were being destroyed before we were able to help. They were natural to be the first fruits of our labor. They have gone ahead, and even now thrive on their own planet, not far from here, in a sense.”

“The Khajiit, however, were too violent. Only with the recent advances in your civilization have we realized that you have become mild enough for you to join the Argonians when we depart. You will accompany us, via Khajiitmother’s offspring. Khajiitmother’s children, and their children’s children, will be our communication with the Khajiit-kind. When that time comes, as a chick knows when the nest has become too crowded, they will know it is time to leave. And they will join us in the Great Tree.”

“So you just expect us to abandon the world for your Panacea?” Number One interrupted. “Just leave the whole of Nirn to the Humans on a promise of some other world?!”

“No, Altmer,” Ra’Jirra said, looking directly at him. “You and your kind will remain with the Humans. For as long as you are able. But magic is fading, Altmer, and with it your precedence in the order of things on Nirn. Once you were the masters of this world. In the future, you will be slaves. Until you are no more.”

Number One’s composure was shattered.

“She lies. She’s making this up! How dreadfully convenient, Ra’Jirra, that it just so happens that you are the chosen of the Hist, isn’t it? You, who have thwarted the Dominion at every turn, just happen to be the same cat that magically can now talk to the Hist? You and that naked lizard over there made this whole thing up, didn’t you?! Why on earth would the Hist pick you? Of all the Khajiits, why you?”

‘Because, Altmer,” said the Hist through Ra’Jirra, “she knows you best. She is the right person, at the right time and the right place.”

Oddly, Number One sat back down, though his eyes still flared. Ra’Jirra felt more than saw the Histess rise from her seat while she continued translating…

“She knows why you can never be taken. Some Mer may become gentle enough in time, but not the Altmer. You are too proud.”

“Is she the only Khajiitmother then?” Number One asked, while whispering to the female Altmer to his right. “Is she to hold a privileged rank among the Khajiit as the herald of this new Hist-Khajiit race? Maybe you’d better think twice, Mane, before she usurps your position!”

“She is enough. Generations will pass. Her posterity will be many. Some may rise to the rank of Mane, but they will remain wholly Khajiit. We will not cause a rift in a race we admire so.”

The Histess was standing beside her now.

“And now, Number One,” Ra’Jirra said, opening her eyes again. “Do what you must do.”

She was no longer translating. Instead, the Hist had just provided her with their vision of the future in a flash. The immediate future. The outcome was unclear, but there was no time to act. She knew what was about to happen. She braced for impact.

The magic users were on their feet, hands outstretched, and a powerful glow indicated an imminent release of power. She heard Isdra scream for the guards as the Prime Concubine fell over the Mane protectively. But the blast was already on its way and it’s target was Ra’Jirra’s unprotected breast.

“Then die, Khajiitmother!”