I'm back with another chapter! Hopefully I'll have faster chapter updates since it's the summer holidays and I spend my days doing next to nothing :P

"Damn it, Gelebor! You didn't tell me those dragons were Revered Dragons!"

Gelebor jumped and looked behind him, the Dragonborn was back quicker than he expected. "I beg your pardon?"

"Revered Dragons. Different shaped skulls to a normal dragon, no teeth, beaked, huge, fire breathing, you know?" She tried to mimic the dragon's mouth and head with her arms.

Gelebor shook his head slowly, confused. "No..."

Emalia sighed and started storming around the temple. "Is there any paper around? I'll draw one for you."

She disappeared into the temple, giving Gelebor a brief moment of silence. But it wasn't long before she came back again. "Okay, we now both have stuff to do."

Emalia sat down on the cold stone and started sketching a dragon with a stick of charcoal. Gelebor smiled and went back to flipping through the pages of the book Emalia had given him, but there was something about the writing and the ink on the paper which was different... He held the book closer and examined the writing and the runes, they were a lot more familiar to him than the other runes in the book and the ink was darker, more recent... "Dragonborn, this page is making use of the Snow Elf language I've always known, the runes are of the likes of which I have read before and what has been written is a lot more recent than the other passages!"

Emalia tossed the piece of charcoal, which had coated her fingers in black dust, and the half finished sketch of a dragon head before running over to check out the runes which were written in the book. "What does it say, what does it say, what does it say?"

"Calm yourself, Dragonborn."

Emalia still looked quite jumpy and eager to see what was written. Gelebor traced the runes which were written with his fingertips as he translated. "This first paragraph here reads: "If you are able to read this ancient language, we assume that you are a friend. For no other race can read such a language other than us, and most likely you. In this book I have written the most important information there is to know, some that you may need to know. First, if you are able to read such a language that means you must be a Snow Elf, or Falmer. Second, you are not the only Snow Elf (or Elves) left in Tamriel.""

Emalia's eyes widened as Gelebor spoke the words which were written down. "We have gone into hiding in a secluded location in Solstheim, which is why you have found this tome there. We can't dare return back to Skyrim again, for the Nords will most likely kill us, we shall give you a hint of where to find us:

Within the towering glaciers

There we do hide
In the cracks and crevices

There we reside

In hopes of finding those
Who share Auri-El's beliefs

To recognize our hidden homes

Carved in ice is Auri-El's light

Speak the words of blessing

And you shall be granted access

To the Last of the Forgotten

Find us, and may Auri-El's light guide your path."

Gelebor stared at the writing, unbelieving. "That's... That's..."

"So amazing!" Emalia squealed.

She ran off to the middle of the balcony with a wild grin and her eyes shining. "Gelebor! We have to go there, we can find more of your kind! You won't be alone anymore, you could bring them to the Forgotten Vale!"

Gelebor smiled at the overexcited elf, even though he didn't show it, he was very excited as well. More Snow Elves? That was amazing! "Dragonborn, could I ask a favor of you?"

Emalia nodded. "Anything!"

"You wouldn't mind journeying with me to Solstheim to find these Snow Elves, would you?"

For a single moment, it seemed as if Emalia was about to cry... But her expression brightened again to her normally perky self. "I wouldn't mind! As long as... Um... Never mind..."

Gelebor could tell she was hiding something, but he didn't ask what. "Thank you, Dragonborn–"

"Please, call me Emalia. I'm tired of people calling me 'Dragonborn' or 'Dovahkiin'."

Gelebor nodded slowly. "Okay... Emalia, shall we set off?


"I'd suggest you wear this cloak to conceal yourself, I'm not sure how people will react when they see you. They might be like "That's a miracle! A Snow Elf survived all these years!" or they'll be like "Divines, help us! There's a Snow Elf!" and then that would just cause trouble."

Emalia handed Gelebor a long black cloak with a hood, he thanked her quickly and wrapped the cloak around him and pulled the hood down to let the shadows conceal his face. "I think that's better, now I need to stop by my home on the island of Solstheim before we set off. I need to pick some stuff up, is that alright?"

Gelebor nodded, "That's fine Drago- I mean, Emalia."

Emalia smiled gratefully when Gelebor caught himself from saying 'Dragonborn'. "I'm glad you remembered that little detail..."

Gelebor nodded and looked nervously to the exit of the Forgotten Vale. "I think we should get going. I'm not sure how much longer we have left until someone might find those Snow Elves..."

Emalia nodded and took out her bow. "Let's go, stay behind me just in case any Betrayed jump out at us."

Gelebor shook his head and took out a beautiful blade with the likes Emalia had never seen before. "I can defend my self perfectly fine."

Emalia gazed at the blade. "Amazing, what's it made of?"

Gelebor examined the sword whilst talking. "The blade itself is made of refined moonstone re-enforced with steel and a small bit of a quicksilver ingot and malachite. The hilt is made of the bone of some sort of animal, which I have completely forgotten the name to, and bound in leather with a steel pommel with a ruby embedded in it."

Emalia gaped in awe at the sword. "That is some fine craftsmanship, do you know how to make a sword of the same likes?"

Gelebor shook his head. "I only know what it's made of, not how to make it."

Emalia frowned but shrugged. "It's fine, I have my bow."

"Speaking of your bow, what is it made of?" Gelebor asked, his curiosity piqued.

"Ah, this? It's called Stalhrim! This is a set of Stalhrim armor that you only hear about in legends. This is the Deathbrand Armor. It belonged to a fearsome pirate long ago, but I have it now. This stuff is very very strong, hit me with your fancy sword."

Gelebor furrowed his brows. "Is this a good idea? I don't want to be held responsible for the death of the Dragonborn."

Emalia waved a hand in the air. "Nonsense! Just try!"

Gelebor frowned, but heeded Emalia's wishes. He brought the blade across her chest and the sword just skidded off! "See? It's really strong and will protect me."

With a smile, Gelebor sheathed his sword. "Okay, now I believe you. Now let's worry about getting out of the Forgotten Vale."

Yeah, I suck at writing poems and prophecies... Ah, well! At least I tried :3 Please follow, favourite and review. I'll be back with a mushier chapter :P