Unbound

“Calm down,” Alister said, moments after Atar began to panic. He walked out from a curved hall to their right. “I am here.”

Atar hurried over to the man. “Where’ve you been?” He looked closer at him. “Are you alright?"

"Later." Alister planted a kiss on the mage's cheek. "I see we're just about ready to go."

Indeed, they were. Descending the spiral steps were the Henaari, led by two Chimeras. It was a large group, dwarfed only by Pit's enormous Tyrant form. A’zek, by comparison, was much smaller, but still the size of a small horse. As they reached the bottom, he and A'zek pushed their way through the crowd, though no one truly stood in their way.

Behind him were the Henaari in their distinctive leather armor, layered with feather details to represent the Urge they revered. They were all tall and willowy, both male and female, with high foreheads and serious expressions. Carried at the forefront, just behind the Chimera, was the Farwalker, escorted by robed figures wearing fine, mithril chains draped across their heads. He was set down and bowed from his seat.

"Autarch, the Henaari will join you," he announced. His face was hidden in the shadow of his usual enchanted hood as he gestured to the warriors behind him. "Our most highly trained warriors across all thirty tribes, the Dawnguard, led by the Farhunter."

Felix recognized quite a few of them. Ifre, Tyrk, even Isyk, mixed with over three hundred faces he'd only seen in passing, or not at all. At their lead was another familiar woman with scars on her cheeks. Wyvora, the Farwalker's apprentice and one of many women who had once tried to kill Felix, now bowed to him.

"Greetings, Autarch. I put myself and my people under your command."

Felix inclined his head. "Your presence is welcome. All of you are."