On His Mane's Secret Service
Chapter 12

The morning dawned cloudy and ominous, with dark clouds looming from the west. Ra’Jirra was up with the sun’s rise and leaned out of her window, taking in the morning’s coolness, while noting the odd glow of red that underlit the clouds. The morning sun’s rays shone on them from somewhat underneath. She wished Dar’Amon was here with her, but that would have to wait till after today’s big meeting, and her wedding tomorrow.

While it was true that she no longer felt the anxiety over the outcome of this meeting that she once had, she was far from feeling confident. It felt more like a situation that was out of her hands, and that no matter what happened, her vague fears of a genocide of her race were unfounded. And there was that nagging feeling that the Hist had something of their own to say, through her.

She closed the window and went to the bathroom to begin her morning routine. She put on the special underwear that she’d bought specifically for this occasion - more a bodysuit really, in the same shade of blue as the translucent Raba. Once she’d carefully pulled the Raba on over it, she looked at herself in the mirror and smiled. She was happy with the look. Not as blatantly sexual as nothing at all, but something about wearing normal underwear also hadn’t felt right either. That felt like you were peeking through a dress. This, however - it was as if it was how the Raba had truly meant to be worn. The bodysuit reminded her of her climbing outfit, close fitting to the point of being a second skin, allowing her complete freedom of movement. While leaving little to the imagination, it felt right. No doubt Isdra would raise an eyebrow over it.

She stepped into the sandbox and wiggled her toes. Things were going to happen today. Big things. She felt it. And like a spot of warmth in the back of her brain, she felt the Hist there, standing by and waiting to talk to her - to talk through her. They didn’t press, but they were there, calmly waiting for the proper time. It gave her an added feeling of confidence. She wasn’t alone. Outside her room two guards waited. They escorted her to the main palace where Isdra and the Mane waited. Devline too was there, along with other palace dignitaries. She saw Em speaking with someone, but she wasn’t allowed time to join them.

“So, how goes life for my latest concubine, Ra’Jirra?” asked the Mane after she bowed to him. “Still setting fashion trends I see.”

She looked down at herself and smiled back. “Sorry, it just felt… right. I hope I don’t offend.”

Isdra, dressed traditionally in just the Raba shrugged. “What can I say? I’m a traditionalist. But I must say, that looks better than the underwear. If you’re going to have to wear something under it anyway.”

“Thank you. Have the others arrived yet?”

“I understand they’re on their way now,” the Mane replied. “But we will seat ourselves at the table now as the hosts. If you would join us, we’ll go in now.”

Ra’Jirra, as the junior member of the triumvirate, followed them into the inner chamber last. This was a large room, though not as large as the main hall where she had been first Presented to the Mane. In the center, a large triangular conference table had been placed with her Khajiit side facing the entrance. The Mane sat in the center of course, with Isdra on his right and Ra’Jirra taking the seat on his left. She noted the symbols carved into the table for each of the races, and was pleased to see that the Argonians would sit nearest her. Their tree symbol seemed appropriate, and she wondered if it was some official insignia or just the carpenter’s whim.

“I will lead the discussion for our part, Ra’Jirra,” Isdra said. “The Mane, as befits his stature, will probably not comment directly. If you have something to say, let me know with Tail-Speak and I’ll clear the way for you. Understand?”

Ra’Jirra nodded.

“Don’t worry too much, Ra’Jirra,” the Mane assured her. “This will be a closed-door meeting. While we will try to follow normal diplomatic protocols, there are no set rules here. The Dominion will present their case first, as the proponent of the question before us. The Argonians will follow, and then Isdra will present our introductory statement. From then on, we simply will talk.”

Ra’Jirra was about to respond when a horn sounded from outside the room. The three stood, and she saw the three Argonians, with the Histess, Quill-Weave, leading as they entered the room. Isdra indicated the side of the table nearest Ra’Jirra and they took their seats, though she noted that Quill took the seat right next to Ra’Jirra rather the center seat. Perhaps the Argonians followed a different standard of order though. They had just sat down when another horn blast signalled the arrival of the Altmer, whereupon they all stood again.

Number One entered with two others: a female Altmer behind him and a tall male Dunmer behind her. They took their places at their side of the table as expected, with the female to Number One’s right and the Dunmer to his left. All were naturally resplendent in gold, silver and crimson.

They stood facing each other for a moment, until the guards had gone and the large entry doors were shut, whereupon all sat and the meeting began.

“As hosts,” Isdra began, “we have claimed the privilege to set the agenda today. Number One, since this meeting was your proposal, I suggest you start by introducing us to the question before us.”

“Indeed, Prime Concubine,” Number One said, rising in his turn and using her position as a title.

Ra’Jirra had to admit, she liked the sound of it. Prime Concubine. But he was continuing…

“Before we begin, please, if you would, excuse my partner Lisidra here a moment as she erects a ward of silence around the room.”

The Mane nodded and Lisidra cast a spell, sending glowing runes around the chamber which embedded themselves into the very walls. When she was satisfied, she returned to the table and Number One began to speak again, though the Dunmer rose from his chair and began casting another spell. As Number One outlined the issue, the Dunmer cast the vision of the future she had seen before, and she listened only half-heartedly, though she noticed the Mane and Isdra were completely engaged with the incredible vision of the future cast in front of them.

Lightly, Ra’Jirra felt the tap of a tail on her rump. She turned to see Quill-Weave eyeing her. Her tail encircled the Argonian’s own and they began to communicate silently in Tail-Speak.

“Look familiar?” Quill-Weave’s tail motioned.

“I’ve seen it before before,” Ra’Jirra’s tail responded.

“It’s exactly the same,” the Argonian responded.

Ra’Jirra renewed her focus on the images being cast. Quill-Weave was right. This was not just another vision of the same future. This was exactly the same vision she had been shown months ago on the island of the Dominion submarine.

She nodded back to Quill-Weave and reached her tail behind the Mane to Isdra and requested permission to speak. However, it was denied. Isdra said they must wait for the presentation to conclude before interrupting. Ra’Jirra concurred in Tail-Speak and tried to concentrate on what Number One was saying…

“We’ve shown these visions to the Argonians, as well as your Agent Ra’Jirra,” he was finishing. “As we’ve explained already, they are not a guarantee of the future, but they are the most likely outcome if we do not take action. Already the Humans are advancing beyond what you or we can match. You Khajiits are clever, I freely admit, with your adaptations of the Human technology. You are quick to grasp and revise their inventions. But you do not create technology yourselves as the Humans do. As for the Argonians, you appear to shun technology completely, preferring agriculture to clockwork gears, fuel and engines. Surely you must see the danger inherent in this. Even without these visions, the future looks bleak for our species on Nirn. The Humans will continue to advance, and we will fade into obscurity and eventual extinction. The time has come to act.”

“As for us in the Dominion, we have striven to do so on our own, trying to sew discontent between the Hammerfell and Cyrodiil factions, and we have had some success doing so - despite some interference.”

At that, he smiled directly at Ra’Jirra who nodded in agreement, smiling back even more easily. She was rather proud of her “interference”. But Number One was finishing up.

“By pitting Human against Human, we had hoped they would assist in mutually assured destruction and allow the world of Nirn to return to its former glory days from before all this technology advancement began. We therefore had to use less than scrupulous methods, admittedly, but without doing so the Humans would have seen their true enemy and refocused on us. As the last of the skilled magic users on Tamriel, we and our bretheren the Dunmer, Bosmer and other Mer are best positioned to be able to fight the ever growing menace of the Humans, but we cannot do it alone. We need your help. And that is the crux of this meeting. Will you help us, militarily or otherwise, to bring the Humans and their vaunted ‘technology’ to heel? Will you save the future for your own posterity by joining us? Or will you slowly fade into irrelevancy, obscurity, subjugation and extinction under the yoke of the Humans?”

With that, the vision faded and Number One sat back down, the Dunmer taking his seat again.

The room was silent. The Mane and Isdra had not seen the vision directly before, and seeing it firsthand - so lifelike before them that they could nearly touch it - was a powerful experience, Ra’Jirra knew well. It had affected her similarly once.

Isdra stood. “Thank you, Number One of the Dominion. You have stated your case well. Next I would like to call on the Histess of Argonia to speak. What is your opinion of what you have seen, Quill-Weave?”

Beside her, Ra’Jirra watched the Argonian stand proudly and clear her throat.

“I thank you for inviting me to these proceedings, Mane of the Khajiit. This is truly an historic meeting between our kind. A meeting of equals, rather than one race lording over the others,” Quill-Weave began, with an eye to the Dunmer.

Ra’Jirra didn’t fail to understand the meaning, the Dunmer having once enslaved the Argonians. But Quill-Weave continued.

“However, I fear you are all under a mistaken impression of my role in Argonian society. Though it’s true that we hid the role of Histess from the outside world for thousands of years, yet I am not in any way a ruler of my kind. I am, in a real sense, merely an interpreter of the Hist. I will certainly tell those back in Argonia all we say and do here, and they will listen to me, but they are under no obligation to follow my recommendation - for that is all I can possibly provide.”

Number One was about to interrupt, but Isdra motioned for him to sit back down, and he did so while Quill-Weave continued.

“But as to the Question, my personal feelings on it are ambivalent. I represent life, as does the Hist. Life has no fondness for war, and surely it is war you propose. Yet on the other hand, this technology as styled by the Humans raises much concern for us. We are not blind to their progress and encroachment on our beloved homeland. Even now as they grow in number, they begin to create settlements ever closer to our borders. War may well come. There is a growing restlessness among our kind. Surely some will agree with your assessment. In fact, they already do. Your demonstration was most impressive.”

“But you, Histess,” Isdra interrupted. “What are your thoughts?”

“I follow the Hist in all things, Prime Concubine Isdra. If you knew them as I do, you would understand.”

“And what does the Hist say?” Isdra asked.

Quill-Weave looked at Ra’Jirra when she replied. “It is not given to me to speak for the Hist in this matter. I was given a different task by them when I agreed to come here. That task has already been accomplished. Now I watch events transpire, and will report back to my kind - if I survive.”

“If you survive?!” Ra’Jirra blurted out, suddenly forgetting her circumstances. “What do you mean?”

“Ra’Jirra!” Isdra scolded her. “Please do not interrupt. You will be given your turn to speak at the proper time!”

Ra’Jirra sat back, chagrined and nodded.

“Is that all you have to say, Histess?”

“For now, yes,” said Quill-Weave, and resumed her seat.

“Then it is time for the Khajiit to speak,” Isdra said, standing. “You give us much to contemplate, Number One of the Dominion. But we have questions of our own. I would like to start with a simple one. What is your goal in this meeting? Is it a declaration of war you would have us sign? How do you envision our role, should we agree to this… alliance?”

“Each of our races,” Number One responded, rising to answer officially, “has their own special gifts. We should use those gifts to the fullest. The Khajiit are unequalled in the art of, shall we say, surreptitious knowledge. Indeed, before us here you bring one of the most talented of those agents you are known for. Yet she has been removed from that post. That is a mistake we would have remedied. No, we would not expect, nor even request, any outright declaration against the Humans. Instead, we would hope that you would direct your agencies efforts against them instead of us. Let us know what they are planning. Stop thwarting us in our own machinations against them. And provide us with your own derivative technology, so that it might be used against them. But the time will come when warriors are needed. When that time comes, the unleashed fury of the beas… I mean, tailed races would be unstoppable.”

Ra’Jirra snorted derisively at the faux-pas. Yet she was surprised to hear that Number One was actually supporting her return to the HMSS. Maybe she had misjudged him?

“I see,” Isdra said as Number One resumed his seat. “Do you still call us Beasts then?”

“We may,” said Number One standing again and, realizing he had committed a blunder. “I will not deny some of us do. Others have come to respect both the Khajiit and Argonians as equals. We would not come to you as we have otherwise. Surely you must know we - just the three of us - could bring the walls of this palace crashing down with magic if we so desired. But we do not. We are here to request - no, to ask you to consider joining us as equal partners, bringing your own talents to join ours.”

“Racism is a thing we all must deal with,” Isdra nodded. “We are not immune ourselves. You answer honestly, and that is commendable. All know of the Altmer disdain for the other races, but we have plenty who feel our own racial superiority. That you come to us thusly as equals, having accepted our requirements, speaks well of your intentions. But now I must ask a single, simple question of the Histess.”

Number One retook his seat while Quill-Weave rose again. “Yes?”

“The Hist are unknown to us, Histess. But we gather they have their own sense of things that we do not. For my part, I do not question their existence, even if I don’t understand them. I have just one question of them, through you, if you can answer it.”

“I will answer to the best of my ability and in all candor,” Quill-Weave said.

“The visions that we have seen today, they are impressive and extremely worrisome. You have seen them some time ago already, and have surely consulted with your Hist. My question is this - is what we have seen true? Will this future come to pass if we do not join this alliance?”

Quill-Weave closed her eyes, and Ra’Jirra knew exactly what she was doing. She was speaking with the Hist. She stood as a statue for a full minute before opening her eyes again.

“The Hist does not doubt it’s veracity. In fact, they guarantees it is truth. They not only believe that this future will come to pass, they believe it is inevitable - regardless of our actions here today or in the future. What you have seen, though millenia away, is not in doubt.”