Laje-tal knew quite well about orphanages. She had been in one for a while before being "adopted" by a family. That stint as a slave for those Dunmer hadn't lasted long. No, she had been all but born with magic in her blood, and they had thought her too young and small to require the magic restraining bracers her older kin had on. By the time her horns had sprouted she had killed her captors, and it led to her quickly having to make a run for it. She hadn't had cause to think that she would ever be in such a place again, but here they were. The lovely city of Riften.

It hadn't been hard to find out about the Dark Brotherhood. A child in Windhelm was looking for the group, and though they had been a little puzzled that someone so young was looking to have someone killed, they followed up on it. Aryon agreed to pose as a Dark Brotherhood agent, his red, glowing eyes perfectly menacing when she covered him in enough dark clothes and a masked hood to pull off the evil organization look. He went in and handled it with usual Dunmer charm, being perfectly condescending and distrustful through the whole ordeal. The child was naturally intimidated by his looks and attitude, and he had gotten the information they needed. Riften was their next visit, and their target an old woman. It didn't sound pleasant, but if they wanted to attract the attention of the Dark Brotherhood, the best way to do so was to kill one of their targets first.

Now next to her in the orphanage, Aryon looked at his wife uncertainly, knowing how she felt about being in a place like this. Although she rarely spoke about her life before Vvardenfell, she had briefly mentioned that orphanages made her uneasy. It hadn't taken him long to piece together the reasons. She met his look, a small frown on her face. "I don't like this."

He only shook his head. "Not much else we can do."

Quickly enough though their target, Grelod the Kind, proved to be anything but. She was the very definition of everything wrong with an orphanage, and after talking to her for only minutes, Laje-tal found herself already wanting to wring her neck. Instead she pulled Aryon aside, whispering to him while everyone was distracted. "Might I have the honor?"

"I was about to suggest the same thing. I'll distract them."

She faked earnestly looking around the place as Aryon started up a conversation with the only other adult, a woman named Constance. That one had been the actual kind one, really wanting to take care of the children, and with Grelod out of the way she would be in charge. As soon as he started talking about magic, Laje-tal knew she was in the clear. He could talk about that until he was even grayer in the face, and as expected Grelod retired to her room, not wanting to hear about such things. The children had been fascinated, and before long he had the whole room distracted. She slipped quietly into the shadows, little more than dark scales against dark wood, edging to the door.

By some stroke of luck the old woman was already laying down. When the Argonian slipped in, she had woken up, but she was quickly silenced by a strong paralyzing spell. Laje-tal only gave her a grim look. "No, not today. You're just like they were." Pulling around just enough to not get marked by the blood, she let a small iron dagger do the rest of the talking. Ever thorough, she left a note making it look like it was indeed a Dark Brotherhood mark. As quietly as she came in she left, heading out the side door and into the outer fenced area outside. Once a few minutes had passed she came back in loudly enough to attract the attention of the others, smiling despite what she had just done. "You know, there really are a good few flowers back there. I don't know why the children are cooped up inside on a day like this."

At her desk Constance sighed wistfully, probably thinking much the same herself. "It really is too bad, but Grelod won't allow it."

"A real shame. Why not ask her if she might allow it just this once? It's no good to keep the sun from one's scales."

"I suppose it couldn't hurt to ask her..."

"Well no matter, I'm sure you'll see to their needs as well as you can." Catching Aryon's eye, quietly confirming much with that simple look, they came to an agreement. "I suppose we had better get going, since we couldn't quite get what we came for."

"I do wish I could have helped you." She sighed again, looking at the children as they went back to entertaining themselves. "I want all of them to find good homes, but I just don't know. I'm sure you'll make great parents for some child someday, let's just hope it's someday soon."

Laje-tal froze at that. "Yes, thank you," she said distantly, leaving the place as quickly as she could without seeming suspicious. Aryon followed right after her, talking only once they were out of range of the building.

"That went better than I had hoped." Seeing her cold stare, looking at everything but seeing nothing, he admitted to himself that he had felt the same in that place. "It's better this way."

She nodded absently, but her mind was elsewhere. About a hundred years after arriving in Skyrim, their relationship had produced something they had never thought possible. Results. A child resulting from a Dunmer and an Argonian had been entirely unheard of in the past, and only documented in hypothetical curiosity. It hadn't ended well. Halfway through the child was born dead. They had reasoned that it was better off being as it was, with both of them immortal, and they wouldn't have to watch future generations age and die before they would, but sometimes they were still reminded of it. "I know. It's better this way." Letting the moment drop, knowing they had both agreed long ago not to dwell on it any longer than necessary, she started to head back out of the city.

Everyone on the street heard the ear-shattering scream come from inside the orphanage. Wincing, his sensitive ears catching it particularly hard, Aryon followed after her quickly. "Let's get out of here."

As the day waxed forward they headed north out of town, going as far as Shor's Stone. The place didn't have an inn, but they could camp readily enough on the outskirts without too much trouble. After clearing out the local mine of its spiders, the citizens couldn't have cared less that there were strangers setting up for the night. They had even gotten a fair amount of coin for their trouble, enough to keep them set with supplies for a good while. Once they pitched a small camp at the top of a hill, they sat watching as the sun started to set, looking out over the village.

"Well, now what?" Aryon asked.

"Now we wait. You don't find the Dark Brotherhood, it finds you." On Vvardenfell she had learned just as much, having been targeted by the organization for some time before she brought the fight to them all the way in Mournhold. "Either they will attack us as we sleep or they will capture one of us. Probably the latter, considering they have been hurting for new recruits."

"Do you suppose they will take us both?"

"Maybe. If we get separated, let's meet in Whiterun. It's central and safe, and the Jarl knows us."

"Agreed." They ate from their rations, sharing a drink back and forth, trying not to think about what was going to happen next. It would happen one way or the other, and they were ready. "This is a very quiet little place. I suppose Shor's Stone refers to the stone of Lorkhan, since Shor is the Nordic Lorkhan."

"Probably. The heart of Lorkhan was once called the stone of red tower, or Red Mountain. The stories differ, but everyone has a story of Lorkhan. It's not too hard to imagine that they are the same thing. Shor's Stone, Shor's bones, I don't know." Her brow furrowed again as it often did whenever she thought on the puzzle of Lorkhan. She always got that same look, and Aryon knew it well.

"Hm, Shor's bones, Lorkhan's bones. It's something like the Earth Bones, maybe."

"Maybe, Lorkhan was supposedly behind the creation of Mundus. That, and maybe the shattering of Lorkhan led to those different parts being separated. It could well be that Shor's bones are here after all."

"That's an interesting thought. I wonder if the Dwemer considered that."

"If they had, it probably would have made things worse. They might have been able to obtain even more power. Then again, they disappeared at the same time as the Battle of Red Mountain, so maybe they never had the chance." Taking out a sheaf of notes from her pack to jot something down, she leaned back against the tree they were sitting near. "Baladas had a theory that the Dwemer were trying to invert the laws created by the Earth Bones, where the deaths of the sacred created the profane. He suspected they were trying to create the sacred from the deaths of the profane."

"Not implausible, they did have long-range telepathic powers, they could have communicated in mass on that day."

"If that's true then it didn't work, since Lorkhan's heart was largely unchanged. Maybe they had all been the conduit for whatever they were going to use to tap into the power. Kagrenac's tools, after all, were able to block that conduit. I still don't know if I actually destroyed it or if it was simply banished from this world, but there was definitely a severing of a connection that I didn't understand."

"We might never know." Slowly the stars came out, and they sat quietly for a while, watching the sky spin slowly on its axis. "Have you been trying that dragon power of yours more?"

Caught off guard by the sudden question, it took her a second to respond. "Once in a while. It isn't as frightening as it was before, now that I understand it better."

"Magic is always frightening when you first learn it." He grinned, remembering how he learned spells as a boy. "Fire and lightning were always a problem with my parents. I'm sure I could have had a thousand bounties by the time I came of age if they hadn't been around to teach me the correct ways to restrain it."

"What were your parents like?"

It was odd how that question had never come up. Neither of them had talked much about life before House Telvanni, but he hardly minded telling her now. "Our whole family was of the Telvanni, naturally. It was clear from early on that I was a mage, so I learned under both them and other tutors in the family. They were good enough to me, made sure I didn't burn down the village, that sort of thing."

"I don't remember mine." Next to her Aryon perked up, though he tried not to let it show. "All I know is they fought and died in the Arnesian war. That, and the day I was born my egg caught fire. Nobody knew what to do, it had come out of nowhere. All I was doing was trying to hatch, and I had done it casting magic."

The idea instantly came to him as absurd, and he found himself laughing at it. "You hatched from burning your own eggshell? That is the true birth of a mage!"

She chuckled a little at that. "That's why I don't remember ever being frightened of my magic. It was always there. It didn't matter, though. My parents were already dead by then."

"How could your mother have died before you were born?"

"Argonians aren't born the same day they are eggs. The soft skins have a long term of nine months, give or take, but Argonians are only five. We spend the last four as an egg by the hearth, hardening every day until ready to hatch. When the youngling hatches, its parents or caregivers bring out hist sap so it might decide how many times to lick it."

He blinked in amazement, never having had this interesting insight into the young life of Argonians before. "So you do know a bit of something, then. What does the sap do?"

Not quite sure how to explain it she frowned, trying to gesture it out. "It makes us. I don't know how to say it." She muttered a strange series of words and sounds. "That is what the former slaves I knew called it. The more we lick it, the more we become part of the Hist. You have seen others, right? Some that could almost look like humans?" He nodded and she went on. "They did not lick the sap so much, maybe once or twice. I licked it many times, but not as many as those that live nearest the Hist."

"How odd." Still he smiled, feeling more intrigued than appalled, as much of the rest of the Dunmer surely would have been. "Fascinating. What else did those former slaves have to say?"

"Not much else. They shared a few stories from the homeland, a few small things. Although they worked for me for a fair wage and good housing, they still did not trust me much. I was still a Telvanni, and it was hard for anyone to trust anyone else in that place."

"That it was. I can't imagine how it must have been for a former slave to work for a Telvanni. I can't even imagine how it is to be a slave."

"It's better that you can't."

That had definitely been something she had never mentioned. She had been open enough about the Imperials she had lived with for a time, but he never knew that there had been anything before. It made sense now. Imperials wouldn't have known how to raise an Argonian, but Dunmer would have had enough slaves about to make sure the job got done properly. He knew better than to ask why she was being so open with him. She had always done so whenever they were on the brink of the unknown. Maybe something about that made them want to say the unsaid. Just in case. "Hm, well I really can't imagine how it is to be a former slave married to a Telvanni."

With a small smile she turned to him, ever grateful he could understand what she didn't say as much as what she did. "It's perfect."

Laje-tal was blindfolded, on her knees and on a hard wooden floor but she didn't panic. They had found her, and though she was bound and blinded, she always had an escape plan as a backup. Rope and cloth couldn't bind her, and surely the Dark Brotherhood knew that. If they didn't, they were even more foolish than she had thought. Soon enough the voice of the Dark Brotherhood agent greeted her, a woman, and indeed she had seen the little stunt the Argonian and her Dunmer companion had pulled. Understandably she was disappointed that someone had beaten them to the mark, but was at the same time impressed by the swift efficiency with which it had been done.

"Now, I'm going to give you a little task to perform," the woman, now introduced as Astrid, said calmly. "There are three prisoners here with you. One of them is wanted by the Dark Brotherhood, but which one? Kill one of them, but choose well. It could be any of them."

So that was how they were recruiting these days. She was finally untied, and looked to the back of the room behind her where indeed there were three others equally bound and hooded. On top of the bookcase in front of her, the blond agent looked down at her expectantly. This would have to be done very carefully. Laje-tal went about what the agent expected, interviewing each of the captives, sometimes intimidating them into answering. Finally she backed away, readying her bow. As she pretended to aim at the Khajiit, she couldn't help but ask. "Tell me, Astrid... how many arrows would it take to ruin a brotherhood?"

Pale brows drawn, Astrid moved on her perch uneasily. "What?"

In an instant she turned, letting the arrow loose with enough force to pierce the agent's heart and exit just enough to pin her to the wall. "Not what. One." With that she freed the other prisoners, offering them food, water, and a bit of coin so they could escape. Taking Astrid's bloody gloves from her corpse, she kept them as proof of the deed, leaving the rest there to rot however it would. They all agreed to make it to the nearest town together, though when they stepped out onto the misty moors, it wasn't quite clear where they were.

The Khajiit smelled the air, turning to their group and pointing southeast. "We are near Morthal, I think. It smells like Morthal. Moss, muck, deathbells and swamp fungus."

Laje-tal peered at the direction of the sun, not even sure what time it was, but in the distance she recognized a stone monolith she had been to before. "There, that stone. We are indeed near Morthal. Let's go." Leading the mixed group all full of mixed feelings, she led the way. None of the others had weapons, save for their own hands, so she took it upon herself to get them out of there. It was because of her that they were captured, after all. They had readily accepted that her rough interrogation was purely to fool the Dark Brotherhood agent, and all was forgiven more or less.

Along the way they had little trouble, mostly fighting off mudcrabs and moor spirits. A rogue conjurer had attacked, but Laje-tal made quick and easy work of him. Finally they emerged from the eerie mists and into the small hold of Morthal, where they gladly parted from each other and went about their ways. Nearby a few guards saw the band of bedraggled strangers and approached her, figuring her to be the leader as she was the only one armed and dangerous. "Hold now, stranger! Who are all of these odd folk you're bringing in with you?"

Others had stopped to stare at the small but unusual event but she paid them no attention, showing the stained gloves of the agent she had slain to the guard. "These people were captives of the Dark Brotherhood. The leader captured me and tried to make me kill one but I killed her instead. I don't suppose you might know where any others might be?"

Of course the guard was startled, but the proof was right in front of his eyes. Stammering, he managed to point in a generally southwest direction. "I... you... yes, I believe I heard that Commander Maro in Dragon Bridge has been hunting them down for some time. You should ask for him there." Still a bit shocked, he looked again at the gloves. "You really killed the leader?"

"She called herself as much but I want to be sure and kill them all." Trying not to scare the poor man she put away her weapon, relaxing her pose a little. "I'm thinking I might need to prepare a little. Is there an apothecary? A trader? Any mages?"

"Yes, yes, we have an apothecary right over there, and the general trader is on the other edge of the docks. As for mages there's just that wizard living here, Falion. He's up to some strange business, that one, but if you're needing the odd potion he's alright enough."

"Perfect. I'll go pay him a visit." Leaving the guard even more confused she walked along the dock to find the wizard's house, hoping he would have a fair stock of magicka potions and maybe a few spare ingredients. The alchemist would be a second option, but she preferred to interact with those who wouldn't give her peculiar looks when she listed off the items she needed.

As soon as she entered his home he shot her a rather aggrieved look. "Oh great. Another newcomer to Morthal. I suppose you came here to see what I was doing?" Without warning he went on a small rant about how others in Morthal viewed him, the many and varied things he supposedly did, and misconceptions in general. Finally he took a breath. "Any questions?"

Laje-tal only blinked, holding out her hand to introduce herself. He deserved it after all of that. "Laje-tal, House Telvanni."

"Telvanni?" He sighed a very exasperated sigh, taking her hand in greeting briefly. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap at you like that. I'm sure you know how it is out there."

"As much as you do. I'm a conjurer myself at times, and I'm sure you know of the Telvanni. I'll admit I came to you before the apothecary because people like us often require... unusual items. I thought you might have some to sell."

"Yes, yes, of course. I do know of House Telvanni, just about any mage with any learning knows about who they were. Are. I don't know, haven't heard much about them first hand. So what will it be? Spell books, soul gems, reagents?"

"I have yet to find a spell book I haven't learned, but as for the rest yes. I've a long way to go to get back to Whiterun so whatever restorative potions you might have would be good. Maybe a few fortifications as well, and do you have any grand soul gems?"

"Just a few, but for you I'll be glad to sell them. Tell you what, you tell me a bit about House Telvanni and I'll give you a few potions? I've always been terribly curious about the sorts of things they did over there in Morrowind but the Dark Elves aren't the sort to talk. I'm from Hammerfell myself, not many are used to seeing a Redguard mage, but I suppose you know all about that too."

"Intimately." Taking a seat nearby she rested for a moment as he prepared some potions. He didn't seem to have what she needed on hand and was going to the trouble of making them for her. She would wait; as much as she wanted to return to Aryon as quickly as possible, going on a journey all the way back to Whiterun without supplies was entirely foolish. She had every intention to return in one piece. "I'm afraid I can only wait as long as it takes to make the potions. I need to return to my husband, but I'll tell you what little I can while we wait. I suppose the trick now is where to begin..."

There were of course things she couldn't reveal to anyone outside of the house but she told him what she could, discussing the role of the council and the members in it and how there were generally few if any politics involved in much of anything. She also touched on the subject of the other houses and how they had once competed for land and position in Morrowind and Vvardenfell, and by the time she had finished with how Telvanni structures were created from giant species of fungi, the potions were complete. Falion handed them to her, clearly entertained by every aspect of it. "Amazing, simply amazing! I suppose you must be going now but I would love it if I could hear more in the future?"

Simply laughing at his enthusiasm she accepted the potions, storing them away in the pack and taking out a bit of coin for the soul gems and a few odds and ends. Stowing those away as well she found a small book she had almost forgotten about. "Hm, The Affairs of Wizards? Well it's hardly a novel, for sure, but take it. It might be a small interest to you." He tried to offer her something for it but she refused. "I barely remember the thing, just have it. I'll be sure to look you up again but I must be going. I need to make haste to Whiterun." Without any further distractions she left Morthal, following the road east out of town. The moors were a quiet, depressing place and she would be glad to be rid of them, but she did entertain the idea of bringing Aryon here. He would definitely find the place delightfully odd.

At Dragonsreach, Aryon was talking with Farengar again, trying not to count days. It had been a few since Laje-tal had disappeared, but he wasn't worried just yet. If she had been taken far from Whiterun it would take her some time to get here anyway, and that was after she had taken care of the Dark Brotherhood situation. He just wished the Dark Brotherhood had taken them both; Whiterun was a good city but it was terribly dull.

"And see, this variable here represents the position of yourself to the plane of Oblivion you are trying to summon from. If it's too erratic you won't be able to focus on the stronger daedra, or you might get one that is too strong and they will escape and take you unprepared." Aryon jotted a few notes onto a formula, the scrawled mess taking up the whole page. "The greatest danger comes from unbound Dremora. They have no alliance to this world and therefore are bound by none of the rules of summoning except for being allowed into this world. Obviously you need to take care of this variable."

Farengar nodded, taking it all in with complete clarity. "Yes, I see it now. Although I'm not the conjuring type it is good to understand the theories and dangers behind it nonetheless. Now what about this other formula over here?"

"I haven't tested that one just yet but we have come up with a theory that there is a correlation between summoning creatures in different types of areas, affecting the possible difficulty in doing so. Here in Skyrim I've found it's nearly impossible to summon Golden Saints, but there should really be no reason for that seeing as I was able to do it with ease in Morrowind. Other such daedra like clannfears and winged twilights are equally hard to bring here, but atronachs and elemental daedra aren't any harder than they were in other areas. I'm trying to see if there is a relationship between the types of geology or environment and the sorts of daedra that can be called. So far I've reckoned this much."

"A very interesting theory indeed." He looked over the formula, much of it going over his head. "Can't say I understand it yet, but it's an interesting thought. What of that Argonian that was with you before? Has she had anything to say on this theory? If I remember right she's a mage too."

"Yes, she and I came up with this theory together. I'm afraid my wife is having more fun than I am right now. By now she's probably carved through half the Dark Brotherhood, but we agreed to meet up here, so here I'll stay for now. Once she comes back I'll be sure to have her explain her own contributions to this theory."

"Your wife, is she? To each their own." He shrugged dismissively. "Oh but I would love to study her! Powers of the Dragonborn! And if we could get a real live dragon captive here in Dragonsreach! The things I could test on it!"

Aryon shook his head, understanding the Nord's zeal but knowing neither of those things were bound to happen. Definitely, getting a dragon in Dragonsreach was the more plausible of those things. For a while longer they discussed the destruction magics and the finer points of enchanting, easily getting absorbed in their work. Neither of them noticed the Argonian approaching them from behind until she sighed heavily, making them both jump and turn around with a bit of a jolt.

"I figured you would be here."

Aryon, wary of another assassin attack, kept his guard up as he faced her. "Show me."

"Ah, right." Her ring was plainly in the open but she knew that was hardly enough. Spying a carrot on a nearby plate she took it, putting the ring on it as they all watched it wither to a crisp instantly. Once her ring was returned to her finger she posed her own test. "You next."

"Twentieth of Heartfire." Both of them confirmed he finally relaxed, glad to see her back in one piece, though he hadn't expected any less. "I'm guessing you got at least one of them."

She dipped her head, horns bobbing jerkily. "I did at least get their leader. She was alone, a big mistake. I learned that the Imperials in Dragon Bridge are looking for the rest." Grinning, she pointed at him. "I figured you might want to tag along."

"Of course! I did wonder if you saved any for me, this place is beyond dull. No offense, Farengar."

The Nord wasn't bothered, though, still awed by the strange properties of the ring that he had just witnessed. He approached the Argonian, unfazed by her puzzled glance. "Amazing! I simply must see that again! How does it work? What exactly did you do?"

She snatched back her hand before he could touch her ring, backing away slightly. "I wouldn't try it on if I were you. It kills anyone but me in an instant."

"What a fine notion! It would be perfect for that enchanted ring you don't want anyone else to have! How did you enchant it that way?"

"I... well, it wasn't me..."

He grew even more animated, his loud voice easily carrying through the hold. "Ah! A daedra, then? No, a Daedric Lord? Dwemer? Ah, the Dwemer! No, no, that would have been too long ago. Necromancers, maybe? No, definitely Daedric make I'm sure!"

Luckily his raving had attracted the attention of Irileth nearby at the central hearth, and she charged in with an exceptionally frustrated frown. "Farengar! The Jarl and I have both told you not to pester travelers with questions they don't want to answer! Come on, they look exhausted. Any questions you have can well wait until they are ready to tell you!"

Farengar retreated from her ire readily enough, going back behind his desk. "Alright, I know, I know. I get carried away and I don't deserve the lenience you all shower on me, I know it all already." Picking up a nearby book to read he seemed to forget them, going back to his business.

"Honestly..." Guiding the other two back into the main hall she gestured out to the main door. "You had better leave here for now, Farengar isn't likely to really forget you for long."

"Thanks Irileth," Laje-tal said with more than a hint of relief. "With the assassins attacking, one disguised as me, we've had to be particularly careful and my ring is the surest way to know it's really me. I like talking with other mages just as much as any, but as you said I'm exhausted. I ran full pace to return here after taking care of that Dark Brotherhood leader."

"The Dark Brotherhood? My, but you've become popular, haven't you? You took out their leader, too? Good, another thorn in our sides gone. I'm supposing you'll clean up the rest as well?"

"We both will. We killed them before in Mournhold and we'll kill them again now."

"So that was you too." She merely shrugged. "Go to it, then. You'll save the rest of us the headache of defending the Jarl against them. I'll keep Farengar perfectly well contained."

"I'll satisfy his curiosity someday but this isn't that day. We'll let you know if we find anything more on those dragons, too."

Aryon handed the housecarl a note full of scrawlings. "Please also see if you can get any of these things shipped here into town. I know some may seem a bit odd but I can't find them anywhere. If anyone can find them, I'm sure you can."

She looked over the note, her brows raising in interest at a few of the entries. "I'll see what I can do. Find more of those dragons, and I will at least point you in the right direction."

"We shall send you their heads until Dragonsreach is filled with them. Until then."

Laje-tal turned to leave with him. "Until then, Sera."

Only once they were well away from the keep did Aryon smirk at her, giving her a rather odd look. "Sera?"

The Argonian only shrugged. "What can I say? I like her."

Stalking prey was always a test of patience, but they had waited nonetheless. The remnants of the Dark Brotherhood in Skyrim were all in one place, in the outskirts of Falkreath behind an otherwise impenetrable black door. Commander Maro and his men had lately obtained the password to get inside, though they hadn't mustered up enough volunteers to help clear the place out. Neither of them minded. In Mournhold there had been dozens of Dark Brotherhood members, and the small number promised behind the door now sounded too good to be true.

They had waited patiently until the height of day, knowing the agents preferred to work at night when their prey was asleep. That concept was just as well turned back on them. Now they approached the black door, giving the password to it and slipping in silently. Laje-tal held up two fingers, hearing two members nearby. Trading hand signals they split up, taking to different marks. The first down was a Nord, caught unaware while eating. Aryon slipped further away into the back of the shadows and she crept to a closer one, frowning when she saw what it was. Another Argonian.

He was probably a Shadowscale, though that old practice was nowadays kept within the marsh. Still, he was one of a select few, an elite among the elite, trained from the day he was hatched to be the perfect killer. She could respect that. Creeping closer, her steps bare and light, she held her breath. Being so at ease in his home would be the death of him, complacency his one mistake. Wrenching his head back suddenly, she pulled her dagger across his neck. "Nocturnal take you." Sounds suddenly erupted from the upper floor, lightning flaring and exploding loudly. "Waxhuthi," she swore, forgetting herself in the chaos. Forgoing the plan to take them out with stealth, she charged up the back, finding Aryon trading blows with a Redguard.

Knowing he could take care of himself she ran further in, encountering a woman mage trying to join her fellow agent in what appeared to be the dining room. The other mage tried keeping her distance, using the big table between them, but Laje-tal hopped onto the mess, meeting the other in the middle as they sliced at each other with their daggers atop the table. Plates and food flew everywhere, and in an attempt to disorient the other mage, she let loose with her voice. "Fus!" The force of her Dragonborn power made the woman lurch against it, dropping low long enough for the Argonian to finish her off.

Aryon finished off the Redguard almost immediately after, jumping down to her level and keeping an eye out from behind. "I am ever glad we're on the same side, love."

She grinned at him triumphantly, turning back as the final agent came running into the room. This one was an older mage, definitely one with many years of experience. He looked frail enough, but they both knew what a truly knowledgeable mage could do in time. Facing him together they split again, dodging his stronger spells and enduring weaker ones to come closer. Aryon had him on the retreat, blade coming ever closer to slicing him open. Laje-tal saw her chance, shouting once more. "Fus!" As wise as the other mage may have been, he hadn't expected dragon powers. It brought him to his knees, buying just enough tome for Aryon to finish him off as well.

Shaking the blood off his blade Aryon surveyed the room, listening for any other sounds. "Five, right?"

"Right, Maro said five. They had a Shadowscale."

He frowned at that. "They did? No wonder they did so much with so little." No other sounds could be heard in the sanctuary, but Laje-tal suddenly perked up, seeming to hear something. "What is it?"

"I hear a chanting. I'm not sure what it's saying." Aryon insisted he couldn't hear anything at all, and his ears were far sharper, but she couldn't quell the odd feeling and followed the noise. Down on the lower level, a circular wall seemed to call to her, and she remembered feeling the same way at Bleak Falls Barrow. It was a wall of words. "This is just like the wall at the barrow, but the words are different. It feels the same way, but... different somehow." One word called out to her in particular, seeming to glow and resonate from the stone. As soon as she approached it the word was known, became a part of her. She couldn't quite understand its meaning, but she knew it.

Aryon looked at the text but all he saw was scratches he didn't recognize. "Dragon language?"

"Yes." She knew, but she didn't. It was all so strange. "Krii. It says krii. I know it."

"Another spell, then. Maybe you need to kill another dragon to understand it, like you did before."

"I don't know, but I have a feeling there will be enough dragons popping up again to find out."

On the shores of northern Skyrim, out in the midst of the frozen sea, Aryon and Laje-tal both looked out over the wreck of The Pride of Tel Vos, the former Telvanni ship that had sailed out during the chaos of the Accession War. It had been one of many things they had sent on from Tel Vos before it was ruined and then sacked, and one of many of those things that had gotten ruined or sacked anyway. There had been bandits around it, of course, but they hardly stood a chance against the two mages and now here they were, looking through what little was left.

Laje-tal lifted up a plank, grabbing an old but still potent potion. "What a shame, it was such a fine boat for its time. Now it just gathers barnacles and bandits."

"And water everywhere," Aryon agreed, picking through some odds and ends the bandits left behind. "Ah, my ship! Spent so much on this hunk of wood! Now it wastes away just like our strongholds, buried by the water just as much as the rest in the ash. Not much good in here either."

"The bandits probably sold off whatever they could. Oh, here! Look!" She extracted a thin journal from a partially submerged chest, and surprisingly enough it was mostly intact. "I found it!"

"Let's see that." Looking over her shoulder when she opened it up, they read through the whole set of entries, both frowning at the end of it. "Lymdrenn! Bah! He assumed us dead! Well, I suppose I understand where he got that notion, with us escaping across the border by then. I'm sure they tore that fool to pieces, the way he had been going on about never giving up those pathetic slaves of his. I swear I never saw such a sad bunch of folk in all my days."

"They're all dead by now." Meeting Aryon's grunt with a sympathetic look she tried to reassure him. "If they were Argonians, they are already reborn. They will remember nothing of their pains before."

"I suppose so." He wasn't sure what else to make of it. As far as he knew, those Argonian souls really were reborn over and over again, but he didn't know it for a fact. Ancient Dunmer still wandered the lands as spirits now and then, so he knew not to discount it out of hand. "Better get this book back to Riften, then. You might be interested to meet this person, you know. He is a Dunmer but he was raised by an Argonian family."

"Is that so? Well then, we are opposites." She chuckled slightly. "You know, you did say I should know more Argonians, but wouldn't this Dunmer be a good start? After all, he is as much out of his element as I am. Maybe we can learn our own cultures through each other."

Pulling back from her shoulder with a touch of surprise he regarded her with amusement. "Two odds finding ends? Yes, that sounds like a good idea. As Telvanni, especially, we could offer him a fair amount of knowledge on the sort of place he is from. He was raised in the marshes, so he could tell you first hand what the homeland of your ancestors is like." He paused, wondering on something that had bothered him for a long time. "Do you ever want to go there? To Black Marsh?"

With a sigh she started walking back to their camp, eager to get back to the warm fire. "Aside from that time during the Oblivion Crisis when I felt the Hist compelling me to return, I haven't felt any real need or want to go there. What is there for me? I don't know that place. Even if I did go, do you really think they would take an outlander like me? When the Hist tried to pull me in, I was able to resist because Vvardenfell was my home. I would be just as much an outsider as I am here."

It was silent for a short while as they sat by the fire, trying to warm up from the chill ever coursing down the banks of snow and ice. Flexing his fingers, trying to get the feeling back into them, he spoke quietly. "I'm sorry I asked."

"No need. You wanted to know, and now you do. None ever get answers if they don't ask questions." She offered him a bit of meat that had been roasting, picking at it a bit herself. "We can't return to Morrowind, but I know we will be at home wherever we may go, even if it is only for a night."

Eating a mouthful of the cooked pheasant, the meat still tasting foreign to him, he couldn't help the sigh that escaped him. "I know. I still miss it."

"As bad as it was, I miss it too." It didn't seem like enough. It never did. Unlike many others that traversed the world, they couldn't go home, and maybe they never would. The only solace she could give was the one thing that would never change. "I am with you." Her fingers intertwined with his, holding tight to that promise they had made so many years ago. It was enough.