XIX

Shazira flicked open one eye, then the second. Her breathing was calm but her head was spinning horribly. Her mind was still foggy and her throat was dry. Looking around, the young khajiit soon realised that she was no longer in her room.

The place where she was was dark, lit only by old rusty braziers. The sight reminded her strangely of the old tomb in her nightmares... no, this was different. The walls were uneven and the room too low-ceilinged. A cave? How had she ended up there?

Gradually, memories came flooding back as the fog in her mind cleared. Shazira remembered her darkened room and the half-open door. She had glanced down the hallway before her foot stumbled against the guard's dead body. Then there had been the hand and the handkerchief pressed against her muzzle. After that, it was pitch black. What had happened?

With slow, careful movements, the princess rose to a sitting position. The floor was unpleasant to the touch, hard and cold. At first sight she was not injured, but then she noticed the clothes she was wearing. They were not her own. Apparently, someone had put on turquoise silk dresses that were a little too big for her. The jewellery she wore was not hers either. Small gold bracelets now adorned her wrists and ankles, jingling faintly at her every move. Not to mention that ridiculously large and ostentatious necklace she wore around her neck...

Shazira's eyes widened as she realized that her moon amulet had disappeared and been replaced by this horror. Where was it? Her gaze frantically searched for the precious medallion but could not find it. As she searched for it, she noticed a small altar set up not far from her, covered with various foods and drinks no doubt intended for her attention. Incense sticks were burning in braziers, filling the cave with a heavy, sweet smell. There was also this huge, ominous mirror with a dark surface that made her uneasy. What was this place?

The young khajiit stood up to explore her surroundings. She was about to take her first step when she almost fell. Only then did she notice that her ankle was chained to the altar. She was a prisoner. Whoever had brought her here, their intentions could not be friendly.

Her gaze scanned the cave for something to break the chains, but she found nothing better than a large, sharp stone. It was heavy in Shazira's small hands, but she still managed to lift it above her head and hit her chains with it. She did it again and again, not caring about the noise she made... but nothing. The chains were far too strong. Breathless, she dropped the stone and began to think of another way to free herself.

The young khajiit's thoughts were abruptly interrupted and she reached out to hear footsteps in the nearby tunnels.

Someone was coming.

* * * * *

The place seemed deserted.

Lost in the middle of the jungle, the entrance to the cave seemed to sink into the dark bowels of the earth. A saddled horse was tied to a nearby tree, the only sign of life in the vicinity.

- "So?" asked Flavia in a low voice.

- "No doubt about it... she's in there," replied Imril, whose pendulum pointed insistently towards the cave.

The mercenaries had hidden in the lush vegetation to observe the cave entrance. Flavia was as calm and cold as ever, her hard gaze staring into the darkness of the cave for any sign of activity. Imril seemed more nervous than ever now that they had reached their destination. Gunnar was finding it increasingly difficult to stay in place, his hands unconsciously playing with his axes. As for Alberic, he was taking advantage of this brief respite to catch his breath and recover his strength after the long walk.

- "And not a sentry in sight... either we're being ambushed or our enemies are far too confident," Flavia said without taking her eyes off the cave.

- "I still don't get it," Gunnar muttered, "Why would Captain Cat betray us?"

- "I don't know and it's not important. Our priority is to rescue the princess and get her back to the farm. Everything else is secondary."

The Nord nodded before spitting on the ground. Although he looked relaxed, he was ready to fight and even impatient.

- "Well, I guess I'm not much use to you now," Imril ventured in a hesitant tone. "I'd better get back to the farm so I'm not in your way."

The altmer tried to leave but Flavia held him back by the collar of his robe.

- "Not so fast, master mage. You can still be of use to us."

- "But... but come on, Captain... you know very well that I don't know any combat spells."

- "Perhaps... you know something about daedra?"

- "Uh... yes, a little. Like all the students in the Tower of Crystal, I've taken a few courses on the subject."

- "In that case... how can you kill a daedra?"

- "You can't kill a daedra, not in the sense that you mean. At best they can be banished from Nirn and forced to return to Oblivion, their home plane."

- "And how do we do that?"

- "The most effective method is still magic, because the daedras are very sensitive to it... unfortunately, I don't know of any spell that would be useful to us."

- "How about a big axe through the skull?" suggested Gunnar.

- "That's the second method. In order to stay on Nirn, the daedra needs to keep a stable physical body. If we hurt it enough, it will be forced to return to Oblivion because it will be unable to maintain itself in our plane of existence. But this is difficult because the daedras take care to adopt a strong and resistant envelope capable of enduring many injuries... much more than a human."

- "Then we'll have to go with the second method," Flavia decided without optimism. "Gunnar, Al', are you ready?"

- "Ready, Captain," the Nord replied.

- "A... a daedra?" stammered Alberic.

The young breton was born in a simple, uneducated farmer family. In his superstitious mind, daedras were terrifying and nightmarish creatures capable of the worst atrocities, immortal beings as ancient and powerful as the divines. And now, he and his companions were about to face one of these horrors... it was a shock.

- "Yes, a daedra," Flavia confirmed, staring at the boy with her single eye. "Are you afraid?"

Alberic did not answer, merely nodding hesitantly.

- "That's good... you'd have to be stupid not to be afraid of a daedra."

- "Well... what about me?", Gunnar snapped, "Goblins, brigands, daedras... nothing scares me."

- "Then you're a stupid Nord."

Far from being insulted, Gunnar gave an amused chuckle at this reply.

Despite the confidence of his comrades, Alberic could not feel reassured. The horror stories he had been told as a child suddenly resurfaced in his memory. Stories of murder and torment whispered with fear and superstition after dark.

Flavia had noticed the young Breton's sudden hesitation.

- "You can go back to the farm if you like. I wouldn't blame you with your injuries."

- "I... no, I'm coming anyway."

- "You may be afraid but you're not a coward... that's good."

- "We'll make a man of this kid," Gunnar agreed.

- "Yes. A magnificent display of warrior courage." Imril smiled awkwardly as he tried to shake off Flavia's grip. "As for me, I will take the captain's wise advice and return to the farm. After all, I have neither your courage nor your skill with weapons..."

- "You stay, Master mage," Flavia cut him off. "As I told you earlier, you can still be useful to us."

- "Oh... damn..." the elf muttered.

The mercenary captain gave a brief, icy smile before turning her attention back to the cave entrance... still no sign of life. Their enemy's vigilance seemed to be lax, to say the least. Did they think they were safe now that they had the princess? Flavia remembered that they were dealing with daedra worshippers, not trained soldiers. This kind of opponent was totally unpredictable.

- "Well... enough talking." The captain stuck her thumb under her eye patch. "Let's go and be quiet."

Her companions nodded as they drew their weapons. One by one, they emerged from the jungle and approached the cave with the utmost suspicion.

Alberic gripped the hilt of his sword tightly. This helped him to forget the pain in his shoulder and also helped him to fight his fear. He was more worried about Shazira though. She was alone right now, trapped in a dark cave and facing a daedra.

The poor thing must have been terrified...

* * * * *

- "Back off, you monster!!!", Shazira shouted as she threw another plate.

The projectile flew a few inches away from its target and crashed into the cave wall. The young khajiit grabbed another of the fruits on the altar and raised her arm high, ready to throw it.

For several minutes she had been dissuading her opponent from approaching by throwing everything she could get her hands on; plates, stones, fruits... there were already almost no offerings left on the altar. While bombarding her target, the princess was shouting insults and other curses.

- "Back off! Bandit! Scum! Don't touch me, Demon!!!"

The High priest Jaro's robes were now covered in fruit pulp as he dodged, as best he could, the wrath of his captive.

- "You calm down, you little pest!" he grumbled, dodging a bowl that would have split his skull if it had hit.

- "Never! May you rot in Oblivion, you rotten flea-belly!"

Shazira, would soon run out of ammunition but that didn't seem to dampen her fury. Her hair was bristling and her claws were out like street cats when they are angry. No doubt she would not hesitate to use them if her opponent got too close.

Jaro had had enough of this little game, however, and was seriously losing his patience. He raised his staff and muttered some arcane words as the princess grabbed a particularly heavy rock and raised it above her head.

The two khajiits froze suddenly as a third voice echoed through the cave, chuckling. A deep, sensual voice.

- "Well, look at this... two alley cats fighting in the gutter. What a funny sight."

Shazira's heart began to pound harder in her chest as the voice sounded strangely familiar. Where had she heard it? The princess turned her head towards a particularly dark corner of the cave and opened her eyes wide to discover a nightmarish creature whose long ophidian body lay in a lascivious position on a large rock. Cruel eyes and a cruel smile gleamed on its face despite the darkness. With a wave of her hand, the serpent woman dismissed Jaro.

- "You may withdraw, priest. Her voice was as smooth as ever. "I am longing to speak to our guest in private."

- "Yes, Mistress Ophia." The High priest bowed deferentially before leaving the cave, giving the princess one last hateful look as he went.

Shazira could no longer take her eyes off the creature who was now staring at her with a mixture of desire and amusement. With slow, graceful movements, its long snake-like body straightened up and sinuated on the ground. The young khajiit had not sensed its presence earlier because of the incense, but now she could smell its scent as the demon approached her. Its unnatural body exhaled a musky, heady aroma, delicious and repulsive at the same time.

Shazira's hair stood on end and she lifted the stone she still held in her hands. Although frightened by Ophia's appearance and size, the princess was ready to defend herself.

- "Ooooh? You defy me?" the daedra chuckled again. "A valiant and proud heart... you are indeed your father's daughter."

The young khajiit froze at his words. This creature knew her father? How?

These few moments of hesitation allowed the daedra to draw her victim's gaze to her own. Amethyst eyes, dark and deep. Shazira understood why this demon was so familiar to her. That voice... those eyes... they were the same ones from her nightmares.

Unable to resist the hypnotic gaze, the princess slowly lowered her arms before finally dropping her rock with a thud. Ophia's face was now bent just a few centimeters from hers. With sensual gestures, the demon gently grabbed the young khajiit's chin to force her to look straight into its eyes. A blood-curdling smile stretched its dark lips.

- "There you go... anger does not befit a pretty face like yours, princess."

Everything about the daedra was fascinating and hideous at the same time. The curves of her female body seemed to be carved from the purest alabaster with forms that would make a worshipper of Dibella[1] green with envy. The beauty of her body, however, was corrupted by the presence of that long, repulsive snake tail. The features of her face exuded an irresistible sensuality but were tinged with cruelty and perversity. As for her perfume... it was a nectar as well as a poison.

If Shazira no longer had control of her body in the face of Ophia's powers, her mind remained clear and she could still speak in a weak and frightened voice.

- "You... you know me?"

- "No, but I was very eager to meet you, the daughter of the great khan Razirr'Ri."

- "My father? How do you know him?"

- "I know him very well. After all... he is the one who killed me."

The daedra chuckled softly before snaking around the young khajiit. The latter shivered as she felt clawed but gentle hands caressing her frail shoulders.

- "But as you can see, I am back," the demon whispered in a voice as sensual as ever.

- "Wha... who are you?"

- "Your father never told you about me? Didn't he ever tell you about the terrible demon he vanquished in his youth to protect his people?"

Shazira's eyes widened. Like everyone else around her, she had heard the heroic tale of her father and the daedra he had slain. It was this feat of arms that had brought him fame and glory among his people. And now she was facing the same demon... the shock was brutal.

- "This is... this is impossible," she stammered. "My father defeated you. He banished you!"

- "Oh yes, it was a beautiful, powerful, glorious fight." The serpent woman giggled at the memory. "But I am a daedra. And daedras do not die like you mortals. I have been banished, indeed... but only for a moment."

The demon straightened to take a deep breath, an ecstatic smile on its lips.

- "How good it is to breathe the air of this world again. A world filled with sublime and delightful souls for my collection."

- "What... what do you want from me?" The princess swallowed, finding the demon's presence increasingly unbearable. "Why have you returned?"

Ophia raised an eyebrow as she slid past Shazira to look her straight in the eye. Their faces were so close that the young khajiit could feel her breath on her muzzle.

- "Oooh? Your father didn't tell you? He never told you about my comeback?" The daedra chuckled again, an evil look on her face. "Perhaps he would have wanted to spare you this terror. In that case..."

The snake woman's long, clawed fingers tenderly stroked her prey's cheek in a strangely intimate gesture.

- "Let me tell you an old story..."

* * * * *

The tunnels of the cave were dark and narrow. The walls gave off a smell of moss and dampness that made the atmosphere heavy and oppressive. The only audible sounds were the wind blowing against the stone and the hesitant footsteps of the mercenaries.

Alberic did not like this place. In truth, he had never liked confined spaces, but this one was particularly eerie. The young breton had to squint to move forward in the darkness without stumbling and the slightest suspicious noise made him jump.

Flavia didn't like this place either, but not for the same reasons as Alberic. The narrowness and darkness of the tunnels made them ideal for ambushes. If they weren't careful, they could easily find themselves surrounded and overwhelmed in no time.

However, they had been making their way through this maze of rock for some time without encountering a soul. From time to time, the mercenaries came to an intersection illuminated by a single torch that seemed to mark out the path to follow. This was very practical, Flavia thought while remaining vigilant. The enemy could very well have placed these torches in order to set a trap.

But the cave remained empty and silent as they went deeper and deeper into the bowels of the earth.

- "Captain," Gunnar whispered.

- "I said to be quiet," Flavia scolded him in a low voice. "What is it, Gunnar?"

- "What do we do if we run into the daedra?"

For all his courage and recklessness, the nord wasn't stupid enough to think they could defeat the demon on their own. They needed a plan. Flavia had been thinking about it since they entered the enemy's lair, but she had not been able to come up with a strategy that would allow them to defeat such a creature. Daedras were formidable opponents, gifted with great strength and terrifying demonic powers. According to Imril, magic was the most effective way to get rid of them, which did not help their case since the only mage present was an impostor unable to cast any combat spell.

They’ll have to be cunning. Flavia was also considering that it might be not possible to defeat a demon as powerful as Ophia.

- "Our priority is still the protection of Princess Shazira," she said calmly, "We need to get her back and safe as soon as possible. Everything else is secondary. If we cannot defeat the daedra, we must flee, but not without the princess. Is that understood?"

- "And if the cat princess is already dead?" the Nord asked tactlessly.

His question was followed by a long silence and Flavia glanced at Alberic. As she had expected, Gunnar's question had caused the boy to react and he now wore a worried expression. This was not good. A worried soldier was a distracted soldier and the captain needed the young mercenary to be in full possession of his senses when they faced the enemy. Fortunately, Flavia knew the right answer to ease the boy’s anxieties.

- "The chances of her death are slim," she said, staring at Alberic. "If our enemies wanted to kill her, they would have done so at the Golden Cane farm. Obviously, they want her alive."

The effect was immediate, and Alberic already seemed more relieved. Of course, she knew the real reason why Ophia wanted the princess, but she couldn't talk about it openly because it would have a disastrous effect on the boy's morale.

The captain merely signalled to the group to start moving again.

Alberic was bringing up the rear, just behind Imril. The logic in Flavia's answer reassured him a little, but he was still worried. If anything happened to Shazira, he would blame himself for the rest of his life.

His dark thoughts were suddenly interrupted when the captain at the head of the column raised her fist. The mercenaries immediately stopped to scan the darkness and Alberic quickly understood the reason for this stop. Muffled voices echoed down the gallery they were walking along.

After a brief moment, Flavia signalled for them to continue their walk. Cautiously and quietly, the mercenaries approached, and soon the glow of a torch was visible on the tunnel walls. Another intersection lay before them, but this time it seemed that someone else was there. At Flavia's command, the group stopped again and the captain cautiously poked her head around the corner to take a look.

Two black-robed adepts stood guard at the next intersection. Their vigilance was relaxed, however, and they were engaged in a lively and enthusiastic discussion. They were talking about their master and the rewards that were promised to them and these words confirmed Flavia's worst fears... the daedra had arrived.

But for now, the mercenaries had to get rid of the two sentries. It was best to do this discreetly, for the captain had no idea how many followers there might be in these dark tunnels. Despite the poor fighting skills of their opponents, they would surely overwhelm them if there were too many. Quieter than a shadow, Flavia returned to the others to give her orders in a low voice.

- "Gunnar, with me. We get rid of them, quickly and quietly. Understood?"

- "Yes, cap'n." The Nord nodded.

- "And me?" asked Alberic.

- "You keep watch. I don't want anyone to take us by surprise. " Despite the darkness, the young Breton could see the eye of his superior giving him a hard look. "If you see anyone who is not one of us, you eliminate them immediately. As for you, Master Mage, stay close to the boy and don't make a sound."

The two nodded in silence as Flavia returned to the intersection with Gunnar. The Nord moved as quietly as ever despite his large build and glided nimbly from one shadow to the next. For her part, the captain had already notched an arrow in her bow and was watching her comrade silhouette approaching the two sentries.

Alberic could not help but look at the scene, impressed by the prowess of the two professional mercenaries. Beside them, the young Breton was only a novice without much experience, despite a certain talent with swords. Right next to him, Imril was being as discreet as possible. The elf was particularly uncomfortable with the situation and paler than ever.

Soon Gunnar was in position, lurking in the shadows of an adjoining gallery. After a last look with Flavia, he put his axes back in his belt and grabbed a small rock from the ground. Quickly estimating the position of the adepts and the configuration of the place, he threw the stone in the back of the two sentries, just at the entrance of the tunnel in front of which they were posted. The stone resounded loudly despite its small size, its sound echoing off the walls of the cave. The cultists immediately stopped their conversation and turned towards the source of the noise, nervously brandishing their weapons against the darkness of the tunnel.

Flavia struck first.

Bending her bow with the speed of an asp, she released her arrow, which whizzed towards its target. Her victim was struck in the back with such force that the arrow pierced his chest and exited in the opposite direction. The follower died without a sound except for a faint moan of pain. His comrade barely had time to understand what was happening when Gunnar was already on him.

The Nord seized his opponent from behind and put his massive arm around his victim's neck to silence him. A brief struggle ensued, but against the brute force of his assailant, the sentry was powerless. A few moments later, his neck broke with a sinister crack that echoed through the cave. Gunnar released the inert body of the adept, who collapsed to the ground with a muffled sound.

Alberic had watched the scene in awe. The action had lasted only a few seconds and had been carried out with perfect timing. Flavia and Gunnar had not hesitated for a second and had eliminated two men with disconcerting ease. The young breton was reassured to know that the two mercenaries were at his side in his dark caves.

Now that the way was clear, they would be able to progress further and Alberic was already preparing to resume walking, impatient to find Shazira and get her out of there. He was about to take his first step when he suddenly froze.

It was not his hearing that alerted him first, nor his sight. It was his sense of smell. Now that he was paying attention, he could smell a warm, pleasant aroma titillating his nostrils. It was an incongruous smell in these dark and oppressive surroundings. Incongruous but familiar. A smell of warm food.

Turning his head towards the tunnel from which the mercenaries had arrived, Alberic's eyes widened and he stood in awe.

Draped in his long black robes, a cultist looked back at him with the same incredulous expression on his face. He was holding two bowls of steaming stew, no doubt intended for the two now dead sentries. Too absorbed in the fight, the young Breton had not watched their backs as Flavia had ordered and he had not heard the man coming from a nearby gallery.

The adept froze as he stared at Alberic and his sword. Then his gaze shifted from the young Breton to the other mercenaries. Finally, he noticed the lifeless bodies of his brothers on the ground in the torchlight. He hesitated for a brief second before realizing what was happening. He dropped the bowls of stew and turned sharply on his heels to flee down the tunnel.

Alberic cursed himself for his lack of vigilance as he dashed after the adept. The distance between them was not great and, if he was quick enough, he could silence him before he alerted his comrades. But the surrounding darkness prevented him from seeing the unevenness of the ground and his foot stumbled against a protruding rock. The young breton slumped down on the hard rock, giving his opponent a precious lead, which allowed him to disappear quickly into the gallery. This brief chase made a lot of noise because Alberic had dropped his sword in his fall and it made a real noise when it hit the walls and the rocky ground.

Alerted by the sudden commotion, Flavia hurriedly joined the boy who was getting back to his feet to stare at him with a stern look.

- "What's going on here? What's all the racket?"

Alberic was about to answer when the silent tunnels of the cave suddenly came to live. Distant, muffled shouts rose from the nearby tunnels and soon the sounds of running footsteps echoed against the rock, coming closer and closer to the mercenaries' position.

Alberic picked up his sword and winced as he held the captain's hard gaze.

The alarm had been raised.

* * * * *

- "... and that is how your father killed me." The daedra concluded her tale with a dreamy look. "He was so handsome and strong in his blood-covered armour. When he pierced me with his spear, I was..." She closed her eyes, shivering. "In love... a true love at first sight."

The snake woman lay on the floor of the cave, the rings of her long ophidian body surrounding Princess Shazira. The latter had listened to the whole story in silence, a serious look on her face. But above all, she was shocked. Shocked to learn the truth from a daedra. Her father had kept her locked up all these years for the sole purpose of protecting her. But why had he kept silent? Why had he never told her his reasons? She couldn't believe it...

- "You... you're lying," she managed to articulate in a small, trembling voice.

- "Lying? Oooh, you'd like that, wouldn't you?" the daedra replied in an amused tone. "It would be so much easier. Alas..." Her snake-like eyes locked onto the princess'. "I never lie."

Shazira shuddered at her gaze. It was that of a predator playing with its prey, and her every move betrayed the pleasure she derived from tormenting the young khajiit. And what could be more hurtful than the truth... she wasn't lying.

- "Why?" she finally asked. "Why did you come back?"

- "Why do you think?" The daedra's smile widened to reveal its sharp teeth. "For one of the simplest and sweetest reasons imaginable ... revenge."

This last word was spoken with a cold sadism as Ophia devoured Shazira with her eyes. The princess’s heart was pounding in her chest, but despite the fear that paralyzed her, she had lost none of her fearlessness and stood up to the demon's malevolent presence with pride.

- "Revenge?" she braved in a firm voice. "Then kill me and be done with it. Take your revenge and stop busting my chops with your lies, demon."

At this bravado, Ophia first put on a surprised face before straightening up to laugh out loud.

- "You are definitely your father's daughter! " The snake woman leaned over her prey again. "Kill you? Oh, but I don't intend to...at least not right away. What's the hurry?"

- "What do you want from me?" Shariza snapped, suddenly intrigued.

- "You are going to live, just long enough for me to get what I want. You see..." The daedra lay down again to stare at the young khajiit. "As I told you before, I like your world very much. It is full of precious souls for my little collection."

As she hissed these words, she lasciviously stroked the broad pectoral on her chest. The many pearls embedded in it gleamed faintly in the light of the braziers. One of them caught Shazira's eye, brighter and paler than the others. Ophia had noticed the direction of her gaze and pointed to the bead with a clawed finger.

- "You have a good eye, kitten. This is my latest acquisition. Mortal souls are so fascinating. Intense emotions alter them to shine brighter, like the flames of a fireplace being fanned." The demon's long ophidian tongue licked the pearl. "This one came from a man whose soul was plagued by many emotions before he died. A secret resentment, a crazy hope and finally... an intense disappointment. The perfect ingredients to make this soul a true work of art."

Her eyes narrowed and her smile grew even more evil as she returned her gaze to the young khajiit.

- "Imagine, then, what it would be like for the soul of a man to see his beloved daughter die before his eyes after protecting her for so many years. The intensity of his pain would be the perfect canvas to create the most beautiful work in my collection. What do you think?"

Shazira did not answer, her eyes wide with dread as she understood the role the daedra expected of her.

- "So like I said, you're going to live... for now. But don't worry, your soul will also join my little collection. For after all, it would be cruel of me to separate you from your..."

The creature froze suddenly before tilting its head to one side, as if trying to perceive a distant sound. Soon after, it frowned, an annoyed expression on its face.

- "Cat Priest!" she called in a rumbling voice.

The High priest Jaro entered the cave from the main tunnel where he had been waiting all along. The black khajiit immediately bowed to the daedra.

- "You called for me, mistress?"

- "It seems we have unwelcome visitors," the latter spat disdainfully. "Please take care of our new guests and... do not disappoint me again."

The High priest swallowed as he bowed once more before stepping back to disappear into the shadows of the tunnel. Ophia watched him walk away for a moment before turning her gaze back to Shazira.

- "Some friends of yours?" she asked with a big smile.

Notes:

[1] Goddess of beauty, passion and inspiration. Dibella is the patron deity of women, youth and artists. Her cult is very popular among hedonists of all kinds and prostitutes.