Blackfeather Woods and yet i am, and live—like vapours tossed

Maegi.

The name fluttered through her mind like a raven's feather caught by the wind, settling deep in her consciousness. It was not the voice of the gods, nor her own self-awareness, so she knew it to be the woman. The stone. . .whatever it was. . .had given her the power of speech, and it was with a wag of her tail in joy did Maegi lower herself to Relmyna's level, gingerly touching her nose to the stone.

Maegi. It was cool and warm all at once, and it pulled her forward, into a swirling vortex of chaos and serenity all at once. The dulcet tones of the daedra danced round them, some louder than others, some more sinister.

"I hear you," Maegi whispered, breath fogging gently on the smooth surface. The fur on her pelt prickled, though an odd sense of calm had overcome her. "Tell me your name."