Chapter 4

Guiding Light

Nova pushed herself up from the dirt and spat out a gob of blood.

"Come on girl, get up!" insisted a gruff voice, though not with cruelty.

She struggled to obey, every muscle crying in protest. Her eyes lifted to find the black-bearded Trentus waiting with a his arms folded.

"You're no good to anyone like this," he commented. "Get up. Try again," he demanded pointedly.

Nova wiped her mouth on the back of her hand, blood and dirt mingling as she stood. A squat wooden post waited for her in the glaring sunlight, a dozen different short poles jutting out from it at all angles and varying heights. Her mind entertained the idea of setting the whole blasted thing on fire before Trentus's voice barked out an order.

"Again!"

"No way the mutt can do it," a child's voice sneered.

Nova did not need to turn to know who called. At the edge of the ring of fences stood a slender boy and a smaller girl with twigs caught in her hair.

"Look, the dog has a stick!" the girl jeered.

"Get!" Trentus bellowed, hardly needing to take a step toward them to scatter the children like leaves in the wind.

Nova determinedly ignored them, gripping her wooden training sword harder as she began the drill, snapping out a series of strikes. The post swiveled as she struck, forcing her to duck and block as the protrusions lashed back at her. But as she countered faster, so too did the dummy. She got halfway through the drill before it whipped around, smacking her in the head with a particularly vicious strike.

Once again, she was in the dirt, this time not entirely sure when that had happened.

Trentus responded with a sigh, shaking his head.

Nova's arms trembled as she sat there, willing herself not to cry. At the human equivalent of thirteen, the rigorous training each and every day beat her down until there was nothing left. She couldn't do it anymore. Failure after failure compounded on her shoulders, buckling her knees each time she tried to stand. It was too much. It was all-

"You can do it!" cheered a voice.

Nova's head snapped up. There at the edge of the training field was a figure clad in white, her elegant robes growing dusty as she pressed against the wooden fence. An army of figures milled around her, scowling. But Lucinda ignored them all as they clamored for her attention, insisting she follow them to whatever oh-so-pressing lesson she needed to attend.

The frustration washed from Nova's weary body. Lucinda cheered again, but the words were unimportant. It was the smile, those warm eyes, the wholehearted belief that she could triumph.

And the reminder of why Nova was there in the first place.

She stood, gripping her mock blade and glaring at the dummy as if it were a true foe. It would not get past her. It would not harm Lucinda.

No one would.

Nova stabbed at it with a fierce cry. But what flowed from her were not the frustrated slashes of someone who did not understand fighting a stupid totem. No. Each strike was a block, each block was a strike, all done with the understanding that if she missed once, it would cost her her life. Or Lucinda's. She would not allow it. Control was the key, keeping her movements precise and in check. Sweat beaded her brow as she passed the halfway mark in the drill and pushed through. It wasn't perfect by any means as she issued the last stinging strike and leapt backwards, but it was enough. She risked a glance at Trentus.

"About time," he commented softly with a small smile. He set a hand on her head and tussled her hair.

She bristled, batting his hand away. She was not a child!

Trentus laughed heartily, and began to show her the next drill. Nova's eyes wandered back to the fence just before Lucinda's entourage won and managed to usher her back to the castle. Even so, it was not before the woman a few years her elder gave an odd gesture that Nova had come to understand meant "good job".

Nova, snapped her attention back to her instructor, giving him her full focus. Reminded in full of her purpose, she ran through the new drill in the air.

But as she swung her blade, creeping shadows rose in her mind, casting her further back, back into a time she longed to forget. Wolf-like, leering faces rose over a man with hair the same color as her own, though his ears lacked elven form. He gestured quickly urging her back, his leather armor torn and bloodied. A woman with long, rosy hair and pointed ears ran beside him. She turned and fired three arrows from a massive bow with enviable ease. Fear thrummed through Nova's veins with each beat of her heart, sending her stumbling backwards before she fell hard on her backside. Her legs would not move, not even as her parents continued to shout.

In that moment, her father had looked to his wife, a solemn farewell in his eyes. He stopped in his tracks and turned, lifting his blade. Black, lupine shadows that rippled as if covered in oil leapt upon him ripping and tearing through flesh and armor alike. He lashed at their forms, scattering black droplets across the ground before the howling mass drove him down. Her mother's scream drowned her own, but could not cover the pointed crunch of shattering bones as her father's life was torn from his body.

Arrows flew from her mother's bow, cleaving through the inky forms and felling them in a vain effort. Nova watched, trembling in the dirt. She… had to do something. But she couldn't move...

Her eyes were fixed upon her father's mangled form, indeed, she could not look away. She did not even see the beast that took her mother. Instead, it was the piercing scream that cut through the forested glade which told her. Another snap of bone plunged the forest into silence. Nova trembled as six sets of ember-like eyes turned to her.

Then the world exploded.

Soldiers in black armor rushed from the trees and cut through the monsters like the night come alive, a war cry echoing as twelve voices carried it in unity. Nova loosed a breath she hadn't known she was holding, almost daring to relax before a snapped twig sent her head whipping around to find a wolfish enemy leering at her. It bared tenebrous fangs as it gathered itself to pounce… only to turn to ash in a flare of magic. Nova followed the glowing trail back to the source and found a youth only a few years her elder standing with regal poise, her hand outstretched and still lit with the effervescent glow. Silver hair danced in the wind as the figure's simple violet dress fluttered to match.

Nova gaped certain she looked upon a goddess. She should probably bow… That was what one did when a goddess saved their life, wasn't it? But all she could do was stare as the figure approached, an enviable grace to her stride. The girl in the violet gown held out a hand.

Nova hesitated, feeling all at once far too filthy to even consider touching her hand.

"Come," Lucinda bid, voice driving all thought from Nova's mind.

She took the offered appendage and the maiden smiled, though her lustrous green eyes softened with sadness. Lucinda pulled her to her feet. The ethereal girl did not release her hand, not even as Nova began to sob.

Her parents. Ancestors… why? She wanted it to be a nightmare. But there was no waking from this. Her sobs continued, echoing through the trees like a forlorn wind. Lucinda put an arm around her, and Nova had no will to protest, weeping against the radiant being.

It was an age before she calmed. Lucinda lead her from the blood-soaked glade with a gentle hand. Nova followed dutifully.

Indeed, she would follow Lucinda until her dying day.

She stood beside the training dummy once more, resolution in her poise. The warrior-in-training remained long after Trentus bid her to retire as night loomed. She fought the dummy with resounding, rhythmic cracks of wood on wood, abandoning drill forms to issue whatever strike felt right. Words of caution echoed through her in Trentus's voice. Keeping an eye on the horizon left only one to watch the path at her feet. But she had a purpose, and the sooner she became proficient, the better. She simply wouldn't trip.

She would never be helpless again, and next time, she would be the one to protect Lucinda.

Nova pushed up from the bed, rubbing at her eyes groggily as she sat, blinking. So many old memories… It had been an age since she'd thought about that time of her life. Somehow, feeding always had a way of dragging the past to the fore of her mind. She would have cursed it, but turned her energy instead toward standing and arching her back in a hefty stretch.

With a yawn and a sigh, she began to don her armor while her eyes scanned the room for Aveth. Finding no one but herself, she glanced out the window at the sun. Nova swore. She'd slept well past dawn. That was not acceptable.

The warrior attached the last piece of her armor and slipped on her leather boots before running her fingers through her short hair in a feeble attempt to tame it. The effort did little good as the strands draped down to poke at her ears and neck. She shrugged and made to grab for the door's handle only to have it swing open of its own accord.

Aveth strode in wordlessly, shutting the door behind him and offering a mug of tea. Nova accepted it as she studied his grim eyes. She could not hide her wince, fully expecting a lecture at her flippant care of her own... infirmity. But he was silent instead, moving to the small table in their room and picking up the ledger from its surface. Beside it was a book that looked remarkably similar… Actually, it looked like a perfect copy…

Nova's eyes narrowed.

"Did… you make a copy of the ledger?" she hissed.

Aveth did not answer, slipping the book into a satchel at his side and picking up the other. He lifted a foot and stepped up on the chair before jumping and grabbing onto the rafters that wove across the ceiling. In a breath, he tucked the book away, all but invisible in its hiding place, then he dropped back down to the floorboards with barely a sound. All he offered was a look. Nova's eyes narrowed, but she found her head dipping in a single nod, regardless. He would explain things in his own time.

Quintillius clapped his jeweled hands as his broad smile widened even more.

"Well done my friends!" the bald man praised running a hand along his book. Today he was dressed in a maroon quilted doublet trimmed in a gaudy gold.

Nova tried remarkably hard not to scowl as she pointedly ignored him. She looked around the large office in which they stood, eyes drifting over the ornate desk to the rows of books along one wall, then glanced to the window. But her gaze always returned to the two men standing behind Quintillius. They were remarkably better armed and armored than the rabble that had accosted them earlier in the cabin. Two more men stood behind her and Aveth. She felt their stares burning into her back.

"Now for your end of the bargain," Aveth said icily.

"Of course!" Quin drawled in a voice that was saturated with so much sweetness, it was a wonder his teeth didn't rot. "But first, I have a proposition for you both."

The warriors exchanged a glance that bordered on a grimace.

"How would the both of you like to work for me? The pay would be considerable. And of course, there would be other notable benefits." His smile turned lewd as it lingered on Nova. Her eye twitched slightly. Seriously. Him. Physically eating his words. How could she make that happen?

If Quintillius noticed her displeasure, he ignored it and continued speaking. "Warriors of your caliber are hard to find. My eyes tell me you didn't kill a single soul in the camp. I find that quite impressive, if a bit unusual."

"I'm afraid we'll have to decline," Aveth cut in through clenched teeth. "We're needed elsewhere."

Nova glanced to her companion. Was he just as sick of this toad as she was? Still, it was odd to see him thus. He was the proper one, always mindful of an unwritten etiquette she so often lacked. Yet there it was, a silent, roiling rage clinging to him throughout the morning. It raised the hair on the back of her neck.

"A shame, a shame," Quintillius sighed, but whether the disappointment was genuine or feigned, they couldn't tell. "But I suppose I understand," he drawled. "Though if you ever change your mind, you'll find me more than accommodating."

Again that vile stare lingered on her, and again Nova grimaced. A book. Thrown at his face. At high velocity. It was as close as she was going to get.

"We'll keep that in mind," Nova said curtly.

Quintillius smirked and bid them an overly fond farewell before he waved a hand. Nova felt more than saw the men behind her open the doors.

Aveth spun on his heel in an instant, leaving Nova to hurry and catch up. In the hall stood a man dressed in what looked to be some sort of uniform. A white vest and black jacket trimmed in that same gaudy gold met their scrutiny as the two warriors waited. The man ushered them down the hallway and a subsequent flight of stairs. On the ground floor, he pushed on through another short hall and into a study before reaching up to the wall and pulling on a mounted candle stick.

Nova's face scrunched in disbelief as a click resounded and the man pulled on a bookshelf only to have it swing forward like it weighed nothing. A secret passage. Of course there was. Of. Course. Hm, well maybe she really should have taken the tour Quintillius had offered…. But then again, that was probably just some sort of innuendo. She pushed her thoughts away as the well-dressed servant plucked a candle from the wall. To her disappointment, it did not reveal another passage. The man continued wordlessly down a flight of stone stairs.

Aveth stood on the precipice, jaw tense. Nova frowned and touched his arm. He glanced to her, but did not seem to see her, eyes snapping back to the gloomy underground.

"You can stay," she offered softly, brows furrowed.

Aveth managed to swallow, and shook his head curtly. There was no way in Oblivion he was letting her go down there alone. He touched the satchel still draped over his shoulder.

He had to do this.

One foot moved before he could think about the repercussions, then the other, and soon he found his slow steps leading him down the stairs. Nova stayed beside him, a gentle hand on his shoulder. He was silently grateful.

The warrior looked to her ruby-eyed companion with a calculating gaze. Aveth did not fear the dark, nor being underground. Their adventures over the centuries had given them no shortage of such places to delve into. Yet now she saw fear. The emotion was foreign to his face and painted it with an alien light. She had to wonder then, what was it that plagued him?

He offered no words as they reached the bottom. The servant led them around a short, angular hall to a large door and inserted a key. With a click, the lock snapped free, and he pushed open the door.

Aveth did not move. He took in a slow, steadying breath and simply stared.

A long hall was illuminated in the candle's wane light. Six cells lined either side of the passage, the bars like silent sentinels. Only one figure moved in the gloom, barely visible in the meager light.

Nova's eyes widened before a snarl dominated her face. A dungeon. He had an Ancestors damned dungeon beneath his house. What kind of person had something like- Well, actually, she knew exactly the kind of person that had something like this under their house.

Aveth swallowed hard and stepped through the door. The servant waved them on, leaning against the wood casually as if he had nothing better to do.

Nova watched, a part of her wondering if the man could actually speak, but she ignored the musing. Her focus turned entirely to her companion as his stiff steps took him down the rows of cells. She followed, glancing back on reflex to make sure the servant was out of earshot.

"Aveth?" she whispered.

He did not respond, eyes fixed on the far away figure huddled in the shadows as he stopped walking.

"Aveth," Nova persisted softly, catching his wrist. He snatched it away before she could manage a proper hold on him. His body quivered like a bowstring drawn tight. "Aveth, talk to me," she pleaded.

Silence dragged between them for so long, she wondered if he'd even heard her. Nova did not move, afraid to shatter the fragile threads between them.

His voice finally whispered through the space. It was distant, and somehow, entirely not his own. "If you are not hunter… you are prey. But hunting is too troublesome for them, and thus, you're kept as cattle for their every whim and want."

Nova blinked.

"And there you are left," Aveth continued in nearly a whisper. "Left in a cell too small to escape the refuse and muck, where sunlight becomes a half-remembered dream and the manacles cut into your skin at every turn. Until one night another illness sets into your flesh, and you're actually grateful for it, because the monsters leave you alone for a time. But when you wake from its embrace, you find a hunger you've never known devouring you, and only then do you begin to understand."

Nova's eyes went wide as she found it suddenly hard to breathe.

"Why… didn't you ever tell me..." she managed. She reached out to grasp his hand, and this time he allowed it, glancing back at her with heavy ruby eyes. He opened his mouth, shut it, then was silent for a long time before trying again.

"I was afraid that somehow… it would make me less in your eyes," he admitted in the barest whisper.

"Nothing could be further from the truth," she assured, drawing closer to him. "If anything it makes you more." Nova swallowed hard, then had to ask. "How did you escape such a place?"

That brought a bitter smile to the dunmer's lips.

"An elf with scarlet eyes," Aveth said. "He looked at me through the bars and told me that a hunter should not be caged. He freed me from my shackles, and we walked the world for a time. Until the guard found him…."

Nova bit her lip. What in the Ancestors' names did she say to something like that?

"I..." she began only to bite off the words and try again. In the end, all she could manage was, "You don't have to be here. You can-"

"No," he said softly, shaking his head. "This is precisely where I need to be. For you and myself." Aveth turned to her, squeezing her hand and offering what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "My struggle is over," he bit his lip. "Or rather, it's all up here." The dunmer tapped the side of his head, his words coming haltingly. "But your struggle is here and now. And very real. I must put mine behind me. One step at a time. Come."

Nova was not entirely sure of that, but could not find the logic to refute it. Thus, she simply followed as Aveth continued down the passage. But he did not let go of her hand, and she did not ask him to.

They came to the last two cells and looked within. At their right, a huddled mass of shadow growled and spat at them.

"Oh good, more dogs."

Nova's eye twitched at the jeer, but she brushed it away. The warriors glanced between one another.

"We do not work for Quintillius," Aveth assured.

"Sure," the man drawled, sarcasm dripping from the single word.

Nova released Aveth's hand and knelt, calling magic to her fingers and letting a cold light fill the space.

"Do you remember me?" she asked gently.

The man stirred, shielding his face from the illumination. Still, she saw black bruises on his face, standing out in stark contrast against his brown beard and oily hair. He lowered his arm, blinking at her, then made a sound of disgust.

"Ugh, you? Of all the people that could saunter down here, I get you?"

"Glad to see you're well," Nova quipped dryly.

"Do me a favor and leave. This place was a right sight better before you showed up. You know what?" he thought. "That's any place really. You and your stupid task. What in Oblivion did any of it even matter?"

Nova stifled a sigh. Ironheel hadn't changed.

"Let me guess," the man continued, sitting up straighter and fixing her with a patronizing glare. "You want your information. Well look around, princess. You paid well, so I put up with your stupid job, but what in Oblivion's name kind of good is gold going to do me here?"

Nova's mouth opened, then snapped shut. Alright, fair point...

Aveth knelt beside her and reached into his satchel. He pulled out an apple, a wedge of cheese, a bottle of ale and a loaf of bread along with a small red bottle. Ironheel's eyes widened.

"They're yours in exchange," the dunmer offered.

The man's eyes narrowed. He studied them carefully for what felt like an age, then sighed.

"Fine, but after this, I'm done with the both of you. I don't ever want to see your miserable faces again," he spat.

"As you wish," Aveth agreed solemnly. Nova was glad of it, because the reply her mind provided was slightly more… colorful.

Ironheel lifted his lip in a sneer.

"The person you're looking for is a student at the temple. That's as far as I could track it before this mess." He gestured around himself before he turned away, pretending not to notice the items Aveth slipped through the bars.

"That's all?" Nova demanded, face flushing red before Aveth put a hand on her shoulder and pulled her away. She followed stiffly.

As they walked, he spoke in a voice so low even she barely heard him.

"He will tell us no more than that."

Nova could not hide her scowl as her hand clenched into a fist. He might if she reached through the bars and rearranged his face. Her mind wheeled. How in the Ancestors' names was she going to- Wait. Quintillius had offered his network of informants earlier. She crushed the thought into dust and buried it in a hole, stomping on it for good measure. There was no way she was asking that man for a blasted thing, and furthermore, she wasn't about to tell him the nature of their search.

They continued to the door and the servant who waited silently. Aveth pulled a small pouch from his satchel and pressed it into the man's hand.

"You saw nothing, heard nothing, know nothing," the dunmer insisted.

A smile formed on the servant's lips as he hefted the pouch and pulled open the drawstring amid the clink of coins. He met their eyes directly and gave a curt nod. Then, with the smiling servant's guidance, the two wound their way back up to the surface and left the house of Quintillius Black far in the distance.

Nova's emotions set her blood to boiling before she was even aware of it. There was only the world in a slight hue of red. That was all she had to find the possible candidate for Lucinda's reborn self? 'One of the students at the temple'. Bah! He would need a temple by the time she was done with him! Did he think this was some silly game?

"Peace," Aveth said, catching her arm and forcing her to meet his eyes as he set a hand on her cheek. "No fate is worse than the one we have left him to."

The solemn words struck her like a stone and broke her from her reverie. Well. Clearly she was bad at hiding her emotions. That or he was able to read her far too well. Probably both. She turned away, shrugging out of his touch.

"I hate this," Nova admitted. "All the wandering from place to place, the searching, and knowing all the while that I could miss her all too easily simply because I can only watch the cities and not the entire countryside. Even if she can only be reborn so far from the island, it's still much too great an area for me to search!"

Aveth let her rant, knowing that she'd held her silence for far too long.

"What if I pass right by her? What if I never find her?" Nova demanded, raking her hands through her hair. She looked back at him and deflated a bit. "And you've had no less of a difficult day than I have. I… I'm sorry, I…."

Aveth offered a soft smile.

"I told you already. My struggle is over," he said. The dunmer tried not to frown as he mulled over her words. In truth, she would be much more likely to never find her queen… But he wasn't about to say as much aloud. "Let's just start with the temple. This is the last person we know of born under the stars and come near proper age for this year. After our time here, we'll work on expanding our network of informants. Or ponder new methods. We'll find her," he insisted instead.

Her rigid stance softened at that.

"Maybe you're right," she murmured, a small smile lighting her face.

"And if you're desperate, we could always ask our good friend," he said with a devious smirk as he jerked his thumb back toward Quintillius's home.

"No," Nova shot down at once, glowering.

"Then come," he insisted. "The innkeeper will be able to point us toward the temple."

"How hard could it be to find?" she scoffed.

"It will take longer without guidance," he pointed out.

"Fine," she groaned with an exasperated sigh.

Aveth hid a mischievous smile. Maybe he'd have her ask little Reina… That would be delightful. Oh, but if Nova figured out his ploy, he'd probably wake up dead in the morning. Although one couldn't technically wake up dead, he amended. Unless Nova was secretly a necromancer…. Now that was a frightening thought.

George's feet resounded on the floorboards as he dashed to a cupboard and wrenched it open only to loose an anguished cry.

"Reina, where's all the salt?" he wailed.

"I think you left it under the bar," she called back, not looking up from the mass of dough she and Luke were kneading.

George's brow furrowed as he opened his mouth. Why in Oblivion was it there? Ah, because he'd had it in his hand when he went to accept the fresh delivery of beef. The realization snapped his mouth shut as he rolled his eyes and tried not to tug at his beard. Great. Because he wasn't behind enough. He hurried across the kitchen and all but tore open the curtain to the common room.

"George!" said a voice with a measure of surprise. He looked up to see the warrior in black armor and the dunmer.

"Hello!" he greeted breathlessly. Yes, hello, goodbye, have a nice day.

"We were wondering," began the dunmer.

No, no, no, he did not have time for small talk or questions!

"Could you direct us toward the temple?

The stew was probably burning!

"Apparently they hold classes there and..."

George snapped up the large container of salt and rattled off directions to the building so fast, both of his guests blinked.

"Class today has already started," he expunged in a single breath. "Sorry, stew's burning, have to go, good luck!" George hurried back into the kitchen, mentally kicking himself for treating his guests with such little courtesy, but sometimes it couldn't be helped. Standing before the fire, he grabbed for a wooden spoon with an obnoxiously long handle and plunged it into the equally massive pot of stew above the ravenous flames. A relieved sigh escaped him as he studied the miraculously not-burned concoction and poured in the salt.

He paused only long enough to dash to his daughter and place a kiss on her cheek.

"Sorry to make you miss class," he sighed.

"It's alright Dad," Reina assured. "Besides, I already did the assignment for today and asked Healer Lee what I would miss. It's not that important of a day."

"But still," George sighed regardless.

"It's not like you ask me to skip class every week," she said, though the smile she wore as she said it faltered slightly. "Besides… it's Mom's day. I can't miss out on that. Especially since you promised I could make the pies this time." She grinned wickedly.

"Did I?" he soured.

"You did," Reina confirmed.

He did?

"You did," Luke chimed in agreement.

He did.

George sighed in defeat.

"Not snowberry," he finally bemoaned.

"Apple is boring," Reina scoffed.

"Your mother would disown you for such blasphemy!" he protested with mock indignation before his face softened and he leaned down to kiss Reina's head. The first of the month brought with it a sacred tradition in sharing his late wife's favorite recipes. It was their busiest day, and for good reason. That woman had been a culinary marvel… before the frost had taken her when Reina was only five. A particularly violent hiss tore George's thoughts back to the present and sent him dashing back to his grand pot before bringing up the wooden spoon like a threat.

"Alright you! I'll give you something to snarl about!" he announced to it.

"You also promised not to yell at the food," Luke reminded.

"Now that I know I didn't say," George refuted.

"Worth a try," the young man sighed.

Reina cast him a sympathetic look and they continued their tasks.

Nova swallowed hard as their steps took them steadily closer to the temple. What should she do? What should she say? Three centuries into her quest and it got no easier. The questions persisted, rolling around in her mind in endless spirals only to be joined by more. Would Lucinda's reborn self remember her? Would she remember anything? What should she say? What should she do?

She plodded on silently, fighting the urge to tear at her hair. What if she said something stupid and Lucinda wanted nothing more to do with her? Worse still… what if Lucinda remembered actually dying? Or that Nova hadn't been able to protect her… Nova had failed her. The warrior shut her eyes.

Aveth walked beside Nova, studying her with knowing eyes and a worried frown. But he hardly needed her rigid movements or her subtle sigh to tell him her mind. She was like this every time they approached a new candidate. He took a deep breath. This time… this time he had to say it.

"Nova…"

She turned her head to acknowledge him, but didn't look at him.

"You'll wear yourself down like this," he said. It wasn't what he meant to say, nor what he should have said, but it was a start.

The warrior, however, did not answer. He persisted.

"Don't think of the next one as Lucinda," he finally cautioned. This time the words were the proper ones. "If you do, you'll be disappointed each time." He paused, then amended. "You have been disappointed each time."

A scowl formed on her lips as she opened her mouth. He hurried to interject.

"I know you miss her."

The soft statement stole the building ire in her like wind from a ship's sails, leaving her mouth slack.

"And it's perfectly fine to miss her. But you can't keep doing this to yourself." He paused, forming his next words with care. "Besides, regardless of who she was, she will have a new life with new people in it now. You may even find… that you do not have a place at her side anymore."

Nova's throat clenched, threatening to strangle her of its own accord. She barely heard the last of Aveth's words.

"Even if she has been reborn, she will not be the same woman you knew. If you're waiting for her to remember you…." He winced as he trailed off, hating himself for saying it, but… it needed to be said. Still, Aveth lifted a hand and draped it across her shoulders, not out of affection, but rather to lend some manner of comfort. He expected an explosion of anger, a scathing retort, and maybe a swift elbow to his stomach. But her soft words surprised him more than any counter.

"I… realize that," Nova murmured, head low.

Well. Didn't that just make him feel like he'd kicked a puppy. Silence dragged like nails across their skin as he retracted his arm. Finally, he had to change the subject, if only to end the painful interlude. Besides, if he was honest, he really had forgotten the details on...

"The amulet," he said. "Remind me again what..."

Nova eyed him sullenly. His abashed gaze as he ducked his head made her sigh and relent. She touched the slender chain hanging from her neck, grateful for the shift in topic. Her mouth opened, but it almost felt like another person speaking.

"I found the amulet after she…" the warrior could not say it. "After I picked it up, there was a voice. Or maybe several. But they all said the same thing. 'Seek the girl marked by the stars of Lucinda's birth. The amulet will react to a resonant soul, but should you have doubts, bring her to us at the Senge Stones and we will find the answer.' Beyond that, it was a sense, an image of the area I needed to search. Or rather… the limit of the distance she could be born from the island. No, not the island, the Well." She glanced to him, suddenly fearful that her words would sound like foolish, desperate raving. "It was the Ancestors, Aveth. I know it was."

"I do not doubt that," he assured, patting her shoulder. The Well of the Ancestors, hm? She rarely referenced it when they were outside of the island. But then again, if he had a specific place where his Ancestors resided eternally, he would keep it quiet too. His mind shifted thoughts and asked them aloud. "What do you suppose it meant, 'a resonant soul'?"

Nova pursed her lips. That had been a long time ago. She'd memorized the words, written them down both on paper and across her soul. She would never forget them, but still...

"I'm not completely sure..." She shivered as the memory resurfaced of something ancient burrowing into her mind and sharing with her by images and sensations, as much as through words. The remembrance filled her, lending strength and conviction to the words she spoke even as she wondered how she knew them. "I think the amulet will glow for a soul akin to Lucinda's."

"Why can't it just be for Lucinda's?" Aveth muttered with a sigh.

Nova searched her mind but found no answers.

"Because that would be useful," she grumbled bitterly.

Aveth agreed in a huff of breath. Such unreliable Ancestors.

The temple came into view and Nova swallowed hard. Aveth approached and set a hand on the door. He turned back to look at her pointedly and offered a smile.

"Let's just go in and see what kind of new people we can meet today."

Nova hesitated, sighed, then nodded.

"Sure."

The temple was strangely warm despite the lack of a fireplace. Bright candles and welcoming windows banished the dark as the fresh smell of wood permeated the air.

Aveth led the way, for which Nova was decidedly grateful. He scanned the interior and made his way to a small room adjacent to the main area. From an open door drifted an aged voice, the reedy quality lending a strange credence to the words. As Nova listened, she realized what she was hearing was a lesson on lavender. She fought back the perplexed curl of her lip. What good was a stupid flower? Certainly it wasn't worthwhile enough to warrant what sounded like a lecture!

Aveth stepped through the door, Nova in his shadow. The voice stopped abruptly as they found themselves standing beside its source. A short woman with gray hair in a high bun blinked at them for a moment before a wide smile stretched over her wrinkled face.

"Welcome," she said softly.

"Forgive our intrusion," Aveth offered with a slight bow of his head.

"That's quite alright," she assured. "Are you here for the class?"

"Yes," Aveth smiled. Well, in a way it was true…

"Wonderful!" she said softly, pressing the palms of her hands together. "We get so few newcomers!"

"Where you from?" asked a red-haired woman casually from the front row of desks.

"An island off the coast of-" Aveth broke off as Nova jabbed him in the ribs.

The aged instructor's smile became a smirk at the gesture.

"An island?" she almost had to press. "It must be lovely. What do you do for fun?"

Aveth couldn't stop the words that flowed from his lips.

"Oh her?" he asked with an exaggerated gesture at Nova. "She doesn't know what that is."

The gray-haired woman chuckled, as did the three other women in the class. Nova, on the other hand, shot him a look that could have probably melted several ingots.

"I'd be bored on an island," remarked a raven-haired woman in a lackluster voice.

"I think you're always bored, my dear," commented the instructor.

Something akin to a sigh rose up from the head pillowed upon the folded arms, and yet somehow it managed to convey agreement.

Nova's eyes widened as an idea struck her. She had to fight the urge to cheer at her own brilliance. Because if it worked, she should be thrown a parade. Or two.

"It's a pretty peaceful place," she commented in an offhand manner, then adopted a boastful tone. "But we live quite comfortable lives thanks to our trade network. It's actually fairly exclusive. Those lucky enough to do business with us gain access to the gems from our mines… and the unique metal from which our armor is forged." She touched her chest plate almost reflexively. "Though by far, the most sought-after export of ours are our crystals. They form no where but on our island and their beauty is unrivaled." She lifted her head and let pride saturate her voice for extra effect. "In fact," Nova said, as if suddenly realizing something. "I can show you. Here."

She pulled the amulet from her neck and offered it to an elf in the first row, looking joyful and proud as she did not give them an opening to politely refuse. The bosmer woman accepted the item and stared at it.

The amulet began to glow with a dull light.

Nova secretly bit her lip hard to stifle her gasp and keep her rooted in place for fear of cheering like a deranged fool. A wood elf. She hadn't expected Lucinda to be reborn as a wood elf, but why not? Lucinda had, in fact, been elven. Sure, the shaved head was a little… different, but that was… fine.

As Nova began to formulate a plan for speaking with the woman, the bosmer shifted in her desk and passed the amulet to the student behind her. The black haired woman lifted her head and held the jewel as the glowpersisted dimly before she passed it along with a yawn.

Wait.

What?

Nova blinked, unable to form any other thought as the gem fell into the red haired woman's grasp and burned slightly brighter. The student studied it a moment.

"Why does it glow? Is it cursed?" she asked.

Nova was still blinking stupidly as she processed the words. Alright. That was unexpected. But it was fine. It was. She could work with this. All she had to do was figure out their birthsigns! Easily done! Yes. Sure. Of course. This was easy!

Nova held out her hand for the amulet and tucked it away once more. She just had to suavely question them and find her queen! Easy!

Nova rubbed at her ear as she and Aveth hurried from the temple. Out in the sun's warm rays, the dunmer shifted his gaze to his companion.

"So," he said, drawing out the word as he tried to find more to go with it.

"I don't want to talk about it," Nova groused.

"That went… well," he remarked.

"Spirits!" Nova swore. "That old lady's strong! She didn't have to drag me off by my ear!" The warrior continued massaging the offended body part.

Aveth wisely held his tongue, just managing to keep the laughter building inside him from spilling out. Instead, he gave her a hearty slap on the back.

"Come on, let's get some food in our bellies and mull over how to salvage… that," he offered, this time unable to keep the wicked smirk from his lips.

"It wasn't that bad!" Nova protested reflexively, cheeks flushing. But… yes. Yes it had been.

"I wouldn't show your face in there for a few days," he cautioned with a wince. "I think the old lady was ready to dig a hole."

"Dig a hole?"

"And bury you in it," he nodded.

"That bad?"

"That bad."

Nova's face soured as a heavy frown dominated her features.

"Alright… so maybe… I should work on mastering tact this century," she commented.

"Please," he entreated emphatically.

Aveth sipped his tea, hiding a devious grin as he cradled his mug in both hands. His eyes drifted across the packed common room and boisterous chatter to where Nova stood at the bar. She wore a smile he rarely saw upon her face these days. For once, she was oblivious to the crowd and press of bodies. She did not stand like a bowstring pulled taut and ready to break. The bodyguard was gone, replaced by someone so scarce to him, she might well have been a stranger.

Aveth's ruby eyes softened into warm joy.

Nova shifted position, revealing Reina on the other side of the bar just as she laughed. The sound was lost to him amid the crowd, but it didn't matter. Nor did the fact that he'd been sitting there by himself now for the better part of the evening as the sun's last rays lit the windows with gold.

He sipped his tea again, still wearing his private smile. Truth be told, he really didn't care to know the difference between ale and mead. They both tasted vile.

Ah, but the question had gotten Nova to get up and go talk to the woman.

A/N: Thoughts so far?