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Summary
Miraak is taken aback by her eyes—they remind him of wild dancing flames bursting out from two conflagrating spurts; gold, molten and seething, effusing inside a blacksmith’s scorching forge; honey—when was the last time he thought something about food?—dripping most sweetly down his throat; sun, sun, sun, sky-lighting, earth-nurturing.
He decides he has seen those eyes before, through visions or reality, he cannot precisely say; only that he knows their shape and color forever, even though he cannot reminisce about encountering another human with such unique eyes.
Jia is the Last Dragonborn: the heroine of a legendary destiny complete, a fire-breathing dragoness trapped in a mortal body. Miraak is the First Dragonborn: a Traitor undefined, a frost-breathing dragon trapped in Oblivion, of the same destiny forsaken.
But was it ever truly forsaken? What does the First mean for the Last? What will they both mean to Skyrim, divided, kingless, and bleeding as it is now?