"Percy, please wait for me. Just wait, I'll be right back. Don't leave without me," Grover repeated for what must have been the hundredth time before running toward the station's bathroom.
Meanwhile, Percy glanced around with a serious expression. After a brief moment of hesitation, he started walking, leaving his friend behind without much regret.
He knew Grover wasn't much help. In fact, his presence only made him more nervous, since he never explained anything and always acted as if he were hiding something far too big. Percy even thought Grover might have an anxiety attack at any moment, which did nothing to ease his own unease in this confusing situation.
"M-Master? Are you there?" Percy asked, as though reaching for a lifeline.
"Mmm… what is it?" replied a familiar voice.
Percy turned instantly, and there stood Miraak, as if he had been there all along.
The boy froze for a moment, surprised, before blurting out,
"You have to teach me that."
He spoke without thinking, almost reflexively. At the same time, he felt himself calming down, as if Miraak's very presence gave him a sense of safety without him realizing it.
Miraak didn't answer such nonsense, already used to Percy's impulsive remarks since the day they met.
"Won't you wait for your goat friend?" he asked calmly.
"I still don't get why you call him that. But no, I'm not going to wait. Just being near Grover makes me more nervous," Percy admitted, walking alongside his master.
Miraak, for his part, was observing the surroundings with interest. He immediately noticed how different everything was compared to the realms he knew. Yet, as he inhaled the city air, he felt disgusted by the smoke of vehicles and the pollution. Still, he couldn't help but think it was better than the rancid, oppressive, sulfurous stench of Apocrypha—mixed with the unbearable smell of rotting flesh and damp tentacles.
"It's truly fascinating how these realms have transformed into this," he muttered with genuine interest. "They're even larger than many empires I once knew."
"You've seen empires firsthand?" Percy asked with curiosity. Given his master's age, it didn't seem impossible.
"Yes. I destroyed a couple of them during my prime," Miraak replied without the slightest hesitation.
Percy stopped for a second, processing that revelation, before running a few steps to catch up again.
"So, where are we going?" Miraak asked naturally.
"I have to go home, see my mom. And of course, give her the jewels you gave me. Maybe then she won't have to work in that place anymore, or live in such a… horrible apartment. It would be a dream if she could get away from that man too. Although, knowing him, the moment he sees money, he'll just waste it all gambling," Percy said, anger creeping into his voice.
Miraak cast him a sidelong glance.
"Your mood shifts far too quickly. For a warrior, that's not helpful."
Percy bit his lip but stayed quiet, listening.
"It's true that sometimes anger—or even fear—can be powerful weapons to unleash your strength," Miraak continued. "But in many situations, the best choice is a cold, calculating mind."
"Fear too?" Percy asked, a little confused.
"All emotions that arise within you can serve as fuel," Miraak explained calmly. "If you can't control them, then use them. Fear is a warning, a reminder of your weakness. But that doesn't mean you should stop—on the contrary, it means you must keep moving forward despite it. The limits are the ones we set ourselves, and when we break them, we grow. The next time, fear will be on a higher scale, showing you how much you've advanced."
Percy listened intently, his eyes shining.
"Did you ever feel fear, master?"
"Ha, of course not," Miraak answered with pride. "Not even when I slew every dragon and their priests, with the entire world against me. Not when my soul was declared a Daedric trophy. Not even when I lost to the current Dragonborn and was about to be cast into the void. I kept fighting with all my strength."
A smile curved his lips, and at that moment the ground trembled faintly. People nearby, frightened, fled as if an earthquake were about to bring the place down.
"Alright, master, alright. Please calm down before a building collapses on us," Percy said quickly, trying to ease him. With just a smile, Miraak could shake the very world around them.
"Ahem… well, mortal constructions would indeed be far too weak if they collapsed from something so trivial," he replied with complete composure.
Still curious, Percy decided to risk another question.
"Master, what are Daedra?"
Miraak's gaze hardened for an instant.
"You don't need to know right now. Just remember this: if you ever hear the call of one of them—especially the princes—run as fast as you can, and pray they never reach you. I doubt even the gods of this world could face some of them. Well, with a few it might not matter much… but with others… it would mean nothing but destruction and madness."
With that said, he simply kept walking. Percy hurried to follow at his side, silent.
—
"Home sweet home," Percy muttered sarcastically as he got out of the taxi. He looked at the building in front of him with a mix of mockery and resignation.
Miraak observed the construction with interest. The apartment block rose enormously before his eyes, even larger than some of the castles in the holds he had once known.
"This is your home? Quite impressive, considering you said you had no money," he remarked curiously.
"No, master. This building isn't ours. My mother and I rent an apartment… in other words, we pay to live in one of these rooms," Percy explained.
"Ah, I see. Then it is an inn," Miraak concluded naturally.
"Well… something like that," Percy admitted as he moved forward to open the front door. His eyes gleamed with a spark of excitement. "I'd like to introduce you to my mom. Though I doubt she'll believe me if I tell her you're a Viking over four thousand years old."
"Viking?" Miraak asked, frowning. "I am a Nord, not a Viking."
"Oh, sorry," Percy corrected himself at once, noticing how seriously his master defended his heritage. "Either way, I doubt she'll believe me. She always told me everything I saw was just my imagination… but now I finally have something to prove it. That man who followed me when I was a kid was a cyclops, and those strange dogs that hunted me that night looked like they were made of shadows."
Miraak regarded him calmly.
"You're rather simple."
"Try spending your whole childhood seeing weird things and having nobody believe you," Percy shot back, though he quickly realized who he was talking to and lowered his voice more respectfully.
Miraak, however, wasn't offended. He came from a world where people spoke far more crudely.
They advanced until they reached the apartment door. Even without entering, they could already hear the racket inside: men's voices laughing, mocking each other, and the loud blare of a television.
Percy frowned with irritation and pushed the door open.
The interior was a disaster. A group of men were drinking and gambling, surrounded by beer cans and food scraps scattered across the floor. The stench was suffocating, and a sports channel roared from the television. Among them was Gabe Ugliano, Percy's stepfather, a repulsive man who reeked nauseatingly, obese like a walrus without tusks, bald except for three useless hairs plastered to his head.
"Well, look who finally showed up," Gabe sneered in his unpleasant, mocking tone the moment he saw Percy.
"Where's my mom?" Percy demanded harshly, ignoring the insult.
"Working," Gabe answered with irritation. Then he looked at him with calculating eyes. "You got money?"
"I don't," Percy shot back immediately, clearly annoyed.
"Hmph. You took a taxi from the terminal, didn't you? So I bet you paid with a twenty and got five or six dollars back. Whoever wants to live under this roof has to carry his own weight," Gabe said smugly, puffing out smoke from his cigar. "Isn't that right, Eddie?"
The man named Eddie gave Percy a quick glance, tinged with pity, before muttering, "Come on, Gabe, the kid just got here…"
"Am I right or not!" Gabe roared in anger.
Eddie cowardly sank back into his bag of crackers, saying nothing. The other two didn't even bother to look, too focused on the television.
"Great," Percy muttered in frustration, tossing a couple of bills onto the table. Then he turned—only to notice that Miraak was no longer at his side.
He looked around, startled, until he spotted him.
His master was standing right behind Gabe. In an instant, he raised his hand and—bam!
A dull crack echoed through the room. Gabe's head slammed against the table with brutal force, and a hand like an iron claw gripped his neck, squeezing him with contempt.
"I've never seen something that stank so badly and looked even uglier than a skeever," Miraak said coldly, his voice freezing the blood of everyone present.
Only then did the men notice his presence. Gabe howled in pain, unable to break free from that inhuman strength.
"Aaah… wh-who are you?" he stammered, his face pressed against the table.
His friends jumped to their feet, ready to react.
But it only took Miraak lifting his gaze slightly toward them for them to stop in their tracks. The weight of his aura fell over the room like a crushing slab, leaving the men paralyzed and trembling.
"Leave," he ordered calmly.
The three bolted in terror, sprinting for the door without daring to look back.
Percy, frozen for a moment at how fast it had all happened, felt a strange emotion rise in his chest. It wasn't fear… it was something else.
Miraak, meanwhile, still held Gabe with clear disgust.
"What exactly is this thing?" he asked Percy, as if unsure whether he was dealing with a human—or something worse.