The Dunmer stumbled towards the portal, a hand over his chest where the arrow had pierced his body. As his feet touched the inside of the triangle, he felt himself thrust forward, emerging back on the coast of Skyrim at the edge of the Sea of Ghosts. As he was propelled through, the portal expired with a shockwave. Kelran soon found himself on his knees, shards of ice, wood and bone jabbing into his skin. His breath was shaky, his limbs felt stiff. Soon enough, the elf's vision darkened, and his world darkened with it.

It was then that he saw it in his dreams. The Soul of Trinimac. The white orb that housed what remained of Auri-el's champion. Then he heard her. A young, but wise voice. Powerful, but gentle.

"You will not die this day, Dra'gaharihn. It is not your time just yet." said the voice. It felt familiar, but he could not place the source.

"Why should I live? I have been duped; betrayed and left for dead. What reason should there be for me to carry on while bearing such shame?" he said.

"Every age has its heroes, and like the Nerevarine once was, you are my champion to the Dunmer people. I will not allow you to pass so soon."

Kelran's vision changed from the stone to a familiar sight. He now looked upon the Imperial City at the heart of Cyrodiil, lying upon its island in the Niben, surrounded by lush, green forests with high, snowy peaks in the distance.

"This has been the Empire since the Second Era. A resolute and stalwart guardian to Tamriel, protecting its people and providing prosperity to the land…"

The image then snapped, almost like it was an alternate reality. The Imperial capital lay in ruins, fires raged across its buildings and the White-Gold Tower had been toppled. Cyrodiil had become an alien, barren landscape beset by war and death beneath a sky of flame.

"...and this is the Empire to be. It has grown ever weaker in its age and is now powerless to face the coming storm. The children of old Aldmeris want nothing more than the subjugation of man-"

"And why should I care if the Altmer wipe men from the face of Nirn? We may hate the Altmer but the loss of man is no loss to mer."

There was several moments silence as the image changed again. Kelran's eyes saw several cities ablaze with green fire, chains hanging around the necks of his brethren and plumes of smoke larger than Red Mountain. He felt a hatred emerge like none he had ever felt before.

"Do not be ignorant, Dra'gaharihn! Men might be first, but Dunmer are not far behind in the minds of the enemy. They will come for my people."

"What would you have me do, Lady of Twilight?"

"The hubris of mortals is not restricted to just the Dunmer or the kin have learned much from the downfall of the False Tribunal, yet the Altmer have a stronger arrogance than most. The Soul of Trinimac must be reclaimed, else all of Nirn may fall under the shadow of the Dominion."

"I shall do as you wish, Lady Azura."

"Then live, Dra'gaharihn. See to it that my will be done and the mortal races saved. Go, with my blessing."

Kelran was suddenly forced out of the dream like he was being pushed from his own mind. His eyes were staring up at a wooden ceiling that appeared slightly damp in the corners. Kelran slowly lifted his head and grimaced when he felt a sharp pain in his chest. He looked down and furrowed his brow in confusement. The elf had been stripped down to just a pair of black pants that reached to his ankles and his wound had been cleaned and sealed, leaving a small scar. He propped himself up on his elbows and glanced about. The room was average size for what looked like a bedroom, with the bed next to the wall with the doorway at the foot of the bed. On the wall opposite to Kelran were several shelves that had been littered with books and odd empty jars. There were no windows but the lamp by his bed caught his eye; a small blue organic bell with small, pale lights fluttering around inside. Hope filled his heart as his mind began to race.

Kelran slid off the bed that had been wrapped in furs and his bare, grey feet touched the stone floor. He walked to the foot of the bed and peered through the doorway. He was looking into a small living room with two chairs set beside a fire. Kelran entered cautiously, doing well to make little noise. Scanning the room, he saw that this room also lacked windows and was instead lit by the fire in the hearth at the wall as well as by more organic lamps. There was a large table set in the centre of the room with a map of Tamriel lying across it along with several books that clearly belonged to the open bookcase at the back of the room.

"Its good to see you on your feet, Kelran."

Kelran spun round and froze, locking eyes with another Dunmer. The elf was tall and of a slim build, his robes similar to Kelran's but coloured in a deep blue. His face was smooth and sharp with pursed lips, giving the air of him almost like a trickster.

"Sorvayn?" exclaimed Kelran with great surprise to which the elf looked amused.

"Is it really such a surprise to see me, old friend?" he asked, smirking.

Kelran looked the elf up and down with bewilderment, then he appeared to reassert his senses.

"Where am I?" he asked.

Almost as if in answer, the ground shook slightly and then he heard a rumble around a second afterwards. Kelran's piercing eyes widened. He had to be sure.

"Which way?" he demanded.

"Up the stairs, serjo. Then the door right ahead." smiled Sorvayn, pointing towards the doorway behind Kelran. The Dunmer turned and ran up the stairs, taking three steps in each stride before bursting forth from the door at the end. Kelran found himself surrounded by ash and large curved stone buildings shaped like the carapace of a silt strider. He was on a newly built stone road that extended for several miles, lines of houses on either side with a large temple at the end. The closer a building was to the temple, the larger and more ornate it became. The sky was darkened as ashfall fettered the city that was still being rebuilt but was largely complete.

"Mournhold…" whispered Kelran, an overwhelming wave of relief pouring over him.

"A lot has changed since you were last here." said Sorvayn, standing beside him as Kelran gazed upon the Tribunal Temple, grand and powerful in its stature and dominion over the city.

"The last time I was here this city was nothing but a ruin full of bloodraged Argonians, Sorvayn. It is...warming, to see that so much has changed." said Kelran.

"We'll take back what was ours yet, I can promise you that." said Sorvayn, turning back towards his home and disappearing down the stairs. Kelran looked northward towards the looming plume of smoke that filled the sky in the distance. Red Mountain lay at the heart of Morrowind's central island of Vvardenfell, its shape and regular roar present wherever you were in the province. The sight of the volcano unnerved him. It had been the source of so much death and ruin. He wondered if it still had any tricks up its sleeve. Kelran spat in the dirt and ash and followed his friend back beneath the surface.

Kelran entered to see Sorvayn sitting quietly in one of the chairs facing the fire and decided to join him, seating himself beside him. He eyed Sorvayn, watching as the inquisitor stared into the burning hearth.

"How did you find me? I was told I was the only inquisitor in Skyrim." said Kelran, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. Sorvayn glanced at him and sighed.

"There's no easy way to say this, so I'll just put it out there." he looked at Kelran with a manner of sympathy and regret, "the Grand Council sees you as potentially dangerous if left to your own devices, and so I was instructed to observe you from a distance."

Kelran's expression immediately turned cold, his jaw clenching. "You mean to tell me, that I was nearly killed by Thalmor agents and you could have easily prevented it?" he said, sinister and threatening.

"Kelran, I was under strict orders only to observe and not to interfere!" shouted Sorvayn, a fist slamming down on the arm of his chair. Kelran glared at the dark elf, chewing the inside of his lip in silent contemplation. He leaned back in the chair and slowly turned back to the fire, its orange glow glistening over his crimson eyes.

"I see." he said in a low growl, to which Sorvayn seemed to breath a little easier.

"Anyway… what did you find through that portal?" asked Sorvayn, wiping a hand over his face.

"I found the Soul, my friend." answered Kelran, not looking at him.

"You mean the soul? The Soul of Trinimac? Well where is it then?" he demanded.

"By the Three you can be dense at times, Sorvayn. Use some of that intelligence of yours!" mocked Kelran.

"You don't mean…"

"Yes, I do mean that." he said, standing up and beginning to pace the room, "The blasted Thalmor have the Soul! They're likely bringing it back to the Summerset Isle right now!"

"Hang on, Kelran. How did they actually get it in the first place?"

Kelran could see the alarm on his friend's face. At least he saw the dire urgency of this.

"How do the Thalmor get anything?" he said, shaking his head with his hands at his hips, "through deception and dishonour."

Kelran sat back down in the chair and spoke more quietly, trying to calm his anger.

"In Windhelm, after the Great Houses seceded from the Empire, the Nords there rioted against the Gray Quarter. I know not of how things are there at the moment but I managed to escape. Shortly after, I was aided and accompanied by a female Breton named Elara," he explained while Sorvayn listened intently, nodding where appropriate. "Elara traveled with me while I followed the ley lines through Skyrim, using my power as a Dra'gaharihn to detect the potent energies that ran through the very fabric of the land. Whilst following the line that stretches through the Pale, we were attacked by a lich and its minions. Naturally they died for the last time, but Elara was injured by an ice lance through the gut; I did my best to heal it and make her comfortable, but I had to leave her behind. As you probably saw, I opened the portal with a black soul gem and went inside. While in there, I grabbed the Soul but then I was ambushed and left for dead by Elara and several Thalmor."

Sorvayn let out a deep sigh and ran a hand through his black hair.

"Well, one thing is for certain. You need to see the High Inquisitor and probably the Grand Council as well in Blacklight."

"Yes, I figured as much."

"Is something wrong?" asked Sorvayn with a look of concern.

"She spoke to me while I was asleep. Azura. I must go to the temple before we leave for Blacklight, Sorvayn. At any rate, it has been too long since I honoured the Reclamations."

The two inquisitors climbed the polished temple steps, the setting sun casting Mournhold in a deep, orange glow. Kelran, now clad back in his red, ebony-plated robes, took care to observe the new temple. The steps to the grand structure raised the entrance around thirty feet, allowing the dark elf to see the extent of the city. The Tribunal Temple stood upon an circular, elevated platform, putting it above the rest of the city. The temple itself was massive and unlike the temples of the Divines, for it was an elegant structure with a dome-like centre. Extending outward from the centre were three spires, two branching out to the sides of the entrance and another at the back. Curved slopes of pale stone built up the exterior, removing nearly all hard edges to the building. Similar to most Dunmeri structures, the Tribunal Temple lacked windows, keeping the temple as less of a building, but more of a graceful work of art.

Kelran gazed upon the temple and its surroundings in awe. Being a bitter man, Kelran rarely appreciated works of magnificence, however today was an exception. Kelran and Sorvayn approached the entrance to the Tribunal Temple, passing the beautiful and well-tended gardens that surrounded it. As the pair approached the temple, several men clad in long and hooded blue-grey robes bowed their heads in respect. Kelran and Sorvayn returned the gesture while they walked towards a great set of double doors that rose almost to the height of the temple itself. Four men armoured in gold-coloured plate and blue garb stood vanguard by the temple doors, their faces hidden by golden masks. These were the Ordinators, the force of Dunmeri soldiers under the command of the Tribunal Temple. The Ordinators were organised into four distinct orders; the Order of the Watch who protected the temple districts in each city, the Order of War who make battle with hostile Daedra, the Order of Inquisition who execute heretics and finally the Order of Doctrine and Ordination who were militant scholars that studied the writings of the temple.

Kelran passed the Ordinators and followed inside after he heaved open one of the large double doors. They entered a large reception area with doors leading west to the Office of the Lord Archanon, east to the temple infirmary and a northen door to the high chapel, each doorway being flanked by an Ordinator. There was a large bustle of worshippers and priests travelling to and from the temple and its different sections regularly and thus the temple was never quiet. All manner of people came here to honour the Tribunal; the Daedric Princes Azura, Boethiah and Mephala, from simple ash yam farmers and fishermen to soldiers, merchants and nobles. It was open for everybody who followed the Reclamations.

Sorvayn beckoned Kelran to follow, gesturing with a quick hand movement. The Dunmer bypassed the bustle in silence, heading towards the high chapel. Much had changed in the high chapel since the fall of the False Tribunal at the hands of the Nerevarine, as this had previously been the domain of Almalexia, one of the false three. As Kelran entered, his eyes fell upon three large and highly decorated statues depicting the Tribunal that were standing in the three corners of the room with a plaque set into the stone floor between them all, surrounded by curved pews. Many Dunmer were praying quietly to a specific member of the Tribunal, either down on their knees or simple sitting in silent contemplation on one of the pews.

Kelran took the lead now, walking forward, his black boots echoing against the stone. Passing the centre of the room, he knelt down and read the plaque.

'Here we honour the Nerevarine, for now by him we rightfully serve the Reclaimed Tribunal. By his act of dismantling the Sixth House and opening our eyes to the truth, we persist in true honour of our following. May the Nerevarine forever walk among us in the light of the Three.'

"I assume there's still no word of him?" asked Kelran, curious.

Sorvayn shook his head, "I am afraid not. After leaving for Akavir, we have rarely had anything sent back across the sea."

Kelran nodded, stood and continued along towards a statue of a woman in a long robe. In one hand she held a crescent moon, and in the other a star. Kelran lowered himself onto both knees and bowed his head, with Sorvayn following suit. As Kelran prayed to Azura, he felt almost as if he was being cleansed of impurity, like it was a reward for his worship. The sensation was soothing, warm and rejuvenating. After the sensation passed, Kelran stood up, his red eyes faintly glowing beneath his dark mask.

He turned to Sorvayn, who too was now standing.

"To Blacklight then, my friend. Then to the precipice of war."