Phantom Hollow The spider spinning his web for the unwary fly...

@Damien :D (maybe @Cicero too?!)

His quest has not been fruitful as of late, which frustrated the shade. He had something when he first arrived, but whatever history his sister and those wolves of the two rivers had would be lost to him. It was certainly not pleasant.

The river by the hot springs led him into this hollow just before the sun slid away behind the mountains, lighting up the grasslands in a spectacle of gold and red. Despite the brightness of the grassland, these woods were dark, quiet. Already he felt at home in this quiet hollow. Even before the sun disappeared, it was still, quiet. Miraak slid from the river into its silence, his ears constantly pricked for some semblance of noise. Nothing. The Silencer smirked. If this wasn't the Void Incarnate, he didn't know what was.

He sat down next to a tree, feeling his bones ache with contentment as he settled into the grass. Miraak chuckled at his old age, wondering if the growing cold was to blame, or a lifetime of clashing bodies and scars upon scars upon scars. Let us hope that Mephala has the kindness to let us meet before I keel over, dear sister,

Once again he was returning home with empty hands. Damien had gotten nowhere close to even finding a clue about his sister's whereabouts, and slowly the idea that it was probably best to give her space crept down to the bottom of his heart. She was an adult now, capable of keeping herself safe long enough, even in the cold. It was worrying, but there was nothing he could do about it, Kendra had to find her own place in the world, and Damien could only hope that was back in Blackfeather Woods.

The sun slid down behind the mountains, opening space to the cold of the night and catching Damien midway through the dark hollow. He kept to the shadows as always, feeling the eerie silence prowling all around him and having an odd feeling that not even Blackfeather Woods had ever caused on him. And that is when he saw it, the iridescent shine on his obsidian pelt like a wisp calling him over, and all he could think of was of his mother, an apparition. His heart slows down, hardens up. Prowling closer he makes slow moves not to compromise his position, he blends with the forest, and goes around the clearing where he thought he'd seen the blue shine expectantly. A black figure stands out over the grass, and Damien takes a daring step closer to it, but halts to an anxious stop as the creature murmurs something Damien couldn't believe. "Say that again," he dares to request, knowing it would expose him, but unable to resist finding out who this shadow was.

He wasn't alone. To his chagrin the silent forest didn't stay silent forever. His reverie was disturbed by a youth, who matched the darkness with only his eyes and chest breaking the shadows in front of him. He turned to the wolf, eyes glaring accusingly at first, then sliding into an amused chuckle. Is is common here for youth to disrespect their elders? He joked, pulling his body upright. Let us hope that Mephala has the kindness to let us meet before I keel over, dear sister, He repeated diligently, smirking at the boy. Is Mephala familiar to you, boy?

Damien takes one step back the moment the other stands upright, taken back by his surprising size compared to his evident age. He chuckles at his own lame joke, but Damien's face remains as stoic as ever. "I am not a boy," he protests, hating it as much as every time he is called a boy. But that is not important, not really, for the old man repeats his previous words and makes everything else irrelevant. Damien's eyes drift quickly to the elder's shoulder, and stare for way too long at the red mark dyed on it.

The elder asks whether Damien is familiar with Mephala, to which Damien could only respond with silence without first asking a question himself. "What is the gift of death?" he says, and stares right into the purple-blue eyes that look at him with curiosity, and feeling an uncanny familiarity with them..

The younger man had scowled, but his words had truth. Compared to Miraak, he was merely a boy. He might stand their, a blank, unfeeling mask, but Miraak saw right through him. The boy's white eyes lingered on his shoulder with the kind of reverence the other child at the springs didn't have.

There was silence after his question, then another. A smile, pure and filled with unadulterated joy crossed Miraak's face. Solace, my Brother. The words came fluidly off his tongue, unspoken for moons now. So she did it then... His voice was full of pride. He couldn't wait to see her again after so long.

Once again Damien confirmed he had found another Dark Brother. But this time something was different, and it was about the way he spoke, the way he looked, and how he looked at Damien. The dark prince could swear there was something about those eyes he'd seen before.

But for now, he simply didn't know how to process those thoughts, and the older male's words made no sense to him. "What are you talking about?" he asked curiously, although his tone might have sounded more brash than he'd intended. "Who are you talking about?" he corrected himself as he realized the importance of such detail.

Since he was indeed a Dark Brother, Miraak was much more relaxed in the young man's presence. He was young, true, but he was obviously well versed in the lore and religion of the pack. Something only a priest, or a priestess could provide. He would think it concidental that another sect would send their own missionary; it could only be Meldresi.

My elder sister Meldresi Melonii. She was sent here two years ago to set up a Dark Brotherhood sect in these Wilds. He looked over the young male, peering curiously at the spider mark on his other shoulder. He didn't recognize it. Is she still in here? Had he missed her? Had she set up the pack and returned to their home to report back?

With just a few, short sentences Damien's questions were answered. And still, so many more came to mind. The male explained himself, revealing too his blood relation to Meldresi, Damien's own mother. This man, if what he said was true, was Damien's uncle, one whose existence had never been known, and he was looking for his sister.

"She's dead, the dark prince forced himself to admit. It was hard to say the words, it brought him pain, but he figured that her own brother deserved to know. Their culture had little fear for death, regarding it as a tool in most cases, but still Damien wished Meldresi had lived longer. This was not revealed to the other male, nor was it Damien's own relation to the priestess, "Do you wish to see what she built?" was what he offered instead, trusting more on him after all that he'd revealed. All Dark Brothers would always be welcome in Blackfeather Woods, especially one of such importance to Damien himself.

She was dead.

And so Miraak's quest came to its end. He had found the sect Meldresi had set up, and he had found his sister as well; cold and dead in the ground, her soul in Sithis' embrace. Miraak clammed up then; he was not afraid of death, neither was Meldresi, but that still didn't ease the pain of losing his older sister. The Dark Brother's face was impassive as he processed the information. How did she die? He eventually asked, though several questions went unasked behind it: Was it painful? Was it quick? Did someone kill her? How long ago did she die?

Yes, He answered quickly. This was why he came; to see how this sect of the Dark Brotherhood was doing. It was the tail end of summer; autumn was beginning and winter would be quick to come. He would stay with them through the cold months; what he would do after the ice broke was still murky.

"Childbirth," he answered, but avoided explaining any further. The dark prince still didn't want to reveal to his uncle that they were related, he wanted him to come home first and perhaps convince him to stay. He was family, he was a brother, Blackfeather Woods was where he belonged.

Damien's offer was accepted, and the young male promptly set foot to guide the elder home. "I'm Damien," he offered, and would the elder allow it he would remain silent during the journey. He didn't realize it, but he was already afraid to lose grasp on the older male before he could bring him home. After all, this was yet another relative he could lose.

The manner in which she had died confused him at first. Meldresi was not one to willingly think of bearing children; she was close to old age and she had barely carried to term. This must have been different. While it didn't show on his face, he was excited for the prospect of meeting his nieces, nephews...whomever Meldresi had born for the Brotherhood. Did the children survive? He asked, his tone still melancholy. His sister's death trumped any happiness he might have. Miraak, He returned, following the younger man to the legacy his sister established here in Teekon Wilds.

Miraak was the name of his uncle, one that Damien had never heard of. It was strange to realize how much he didn't know when he was so sure he knew everything. "They did. But not for too long," that he knew. "A boy, Pietro, was killed by a cougar not too long after Meldresi passed, and his twin sister Kendra left us not so long ago. Without Meldresi she never seemed to find her place with us. He stated, saddened by his sister's departure. He didn't even know if she was still alive.

Without second thoughts Damien lead the way to the dark forest where the truth was to be revealed to Miraak. They were family, and as family they belonged together in Balckfeather Woods. His timing was poorly orchestrated, but Miraak's arrival was none the less beneficial to Blackfeather Woods.

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