A/N: Just a heads-up, I did notice that in game, Brand-Shei hardly seems like anyone that was actually raised by Argonians. He doesn't seem to have any real traits or even anything to say from living in a place like the marsh for most of his life. So yeah, I'm going to change him up a bit, hopefully to make things make a little more sense.

A large, probably overbuilt fire crackled on what was left of the kitchen hearth inside the wreck of The Pride of Tel Vos, the very ship that had brought Brand-Shei to his unusual young life. "It's my ship after all," Aryon had reasoned, and he didn't argue. The wreck was in the middle of nowhere and only populated by bandits, a good place to lay low for a while. Right now the deck was just a bit too hot but it had stayed that way at Brand-Shei's insistence that it was the best way to keep Laje-tal's temperature normal. Normal, for an Argonian, just happened to be a lot warmer than everyone else.

"Argonians are actually cold-blooded," he explained, pulling another log onto the fire. "I know it doesn't make much sense how they can survive here in Skyrim, but it's a hard thing to explain. It's the Hist that makes it possible, more or less. The connection to the trees just... it's magic, of course, but I don't know how to describe it."

Aryon waved off the explanation, casting yet another worried frown at his wife. If she could sweat the same way that humans and elves could, no doubt she would be covered with it. "She's tried to explain it to me before, but I know it's impossible. I could spend hours telling you about Dunmer ancestor worship, but you would only know it in theory. It's not the same as growing up with it, knowing it from the very beginning. Do you know what's wrong with her? This seems to be more than just mage drain."

"If I were to call it anything, magic sickness would be it. I've seen it happen to a few shamans at the village I grew up in near Blackrose. There would be celebrations every now and then, and of course plenty of magic, but sometimes one would draw on a bit too much and end up like this. Here." He pointed out a few areas on Laje-tal's hand. "See how the nails are blackening, and the skin is flaking off but turning a blue color? That's mana burn for sure. What makes it different is that the mouth and throat get very dry and swallowing gets hard, a few even had trouble breathing. One or two died from it."

"I see." Not knowing what else to do, he took a small cup of the water they had been melting from snow outside, easing it slowly into Laje-tal's mouth. She reflexively swallowed it and he was a bit relieved to notice she didn't seem to have much trouble doing so. "It's strange," he began, approaching a topic he hadn't thought of in who knew how long. "We've been married for over two hundred years and not once has she ever been sick. I haven't either, not since the corprus disease. Someone tried to poison me once, and it too didn't bother me one bit. I honestly don't even know what to do anymore in the face of something like this."

"I'm guessing that's what made you immortal, too?" At Aryon's nod he just felt more confused. "I did hear a bit about it but what is corprus disease?"

"It was only a problem on the island of Vvardenfell. There was the blight, too, but corprus disease was even more dangerous. Blight could be cured with a potion or a priest, but corprus disease didn't have any known cure. Divayth Fyr, another Telvanni, spent all of his free time studying the disease, taking in victims and watching the disease as it progressed. What he tried on us was purely experimental, we didn't know if the potion would kill us or maybe make the disease worse, but it didn't. It removed all of the negative effects and left the positive ones, rendering us immortal and immune to poisons and disease. In effect, I do still actually have the disease, I just suffer nothing for it."

"You can't spread it anymore, though, right?"

"That did worry us at first but no, or we would have infected hundreds by now." He rolled up his long sleeve on the left, showing the raised bumps and scars on his skin, though with the salve he had been using it didn't look red and flaking anymore, nor did it itch, thankfully. "Just imagine something like this, only all over the entire body with open sores, pus, sometimes even limb malformation. The poor creatures in the Corprusarium were a sight, legs and faces swollen beyond recognition. Lost their minds, too, wandering aimlessly and attacking everyone in sight. I sometimes wonder if there are any left alive but after such an eruption, I would hope not."

"Vvardenfell sounds like a dreadful place."

"It was, usually, but it was home. We adapted to the ash, to the lava, to the hard life in the grazelands. The Dunmer as a whole, that is. I'm very grateful to have not needed to worry about scraping out a living from the plains like the Ashlanders did, but I respected them for working hard for everything they had. Still, it was certainly a liability living there when the mountain erupted." From an inner pocket he took out a small piece of melted, warped metal, the remnants of part of a Dwemer construct. "This right here is all that remains of Tel Uvirith, her stronghold in the ashlands. It was completely destroyed, and this was the only thing we found that could have been from it. Just when it was starting to feel like a home." He shook his head at that. "I used to hate being from a powerful family, but I knew who I was and where I came from, knew where I could go if I needed help, something I always took for granted. I never thought about anyone else, never really realized how hard of a world it could be until I met her. We're not even sure what type of Argonian she is, or where her family came from because she was raised as a slave."

"A slave..." It grew quiet, the fire the only thing overlaying the sound of the wind outside. Finally Brand-Shei checked on Laje-tal, frowning at her shallow breathing. He rolled up the travel cloak she had been using, edging it under her neck to angle her head back enough to free up the tension on the trachea. "That must have been something, being a slave for Dunmer and then turning right around and working with them. Gods, but I don't know what I did to deserve the kindness I got from the Argonians in my village. Did you hear anything at all about where she might have come from?"

"There is one thing," he said quietly, watching the fire burn endlessly, the stack of wood high and crumbling slowly. "Her parents fought in the Arnesian War. Neloth fought some of the Argonians in that war, and he said that she looks like the same type. He said they were probably from Gideon, and we've considered that, but we don't really know the different types, except for the Morrowind Argonians."

"I can see why he mistook her for a Gideon Argonian, but there are a few differences. Gideon Argonians don't have the three-toed feet, but look more like our own. Hm, wait..." Now he looked a bit closer at the shape of her horns, her face, even her tail. Her condition had seemed to improve somewhat, but now he recognized the clan she had come from. "There was a small tribe of spellcasters near Blackrose that I knew for a time. Exceptional mages, all of them. They were nomadic, looking for work or helping with any sort of magical doings. If there was a war, that would explain why her kin were there. If the money was good or if the need was bad enough, they would have fought, and they wouldn't have had a home to leave an egg behind at."

"So her kin were somewhat like mercenaries?"

"Not exactly, but some were. They would work for money, but if a village couldn't afford to pay, all they would want was a meal and a bed for a night. They were wanderers and opportunists."

What he said exactly echoed something Aryon had heard Laje-tal say once when asked about her motivations. She admitted that first and foremost, she simply grabbed on to whatever was presented to her and used it to her advantage however she could. Sometimes she would help someone simply because she felt like it, but she would work for money or items just as readily. "It does fit," he mused, now looking at her again with fresh eyes, understanding her more completely than he had previously thought possible. "We've asked other Argonians but they... I don't know, it's like they didn't want to think about the past, didn't want to remember. Maybe they didn't want to tell us."

"No, provincial Argonians go outside the marsh to live a new life, whether by choice or by force. Most of the time they prefer to live as they are, and not think too long on the life that came before. How Laje-tal became such a historian is beyond me." Managing a wry grin he prodded a bit of venison he had been roasting on the fire, testing how done it was. Satisfied that it was good enough, he took it down to start cutting. "Gods, over two hundred years. How in blazes did you manage that without tearing each other to pieces?"

Aryon grimaced. "It wasn't easy at first. Sometimes we really did almost tear each other to pieces, so we quickly decided to just let whatever we couldn't change stay unchanged. We are still different in several ways and have been at odds about some choices we have made, but it's give just as much as take. If I had been too stubborn, I would have still been on Vvardenfell, and would be miles under the ash now. Azura warned us to get out of there and I don't think I would have gotten that warning if I had continued on as I did." Casually he looked over to Brand-Shei, watching as he seemed to be in no hurry to leave. "Shouldn't you report back to the college?"

He took a large bite out of his venison, passing a few thick slices over. "They think I'm off to find the Staff of Magus, which could take days. The location of it, anyway. Luckily Mirabelle was around so I had time to ask her about it quickly before we had to come out here. There was some group called The Synod asking her about the staff also."

Now he was intrigued, his brows furrowing and a grimace threatening to form. "The Synod? Those idiots. They have no idea what they are getting themselves into. Cyrodiil mages, just so you know. If they are already poking their noses into this, you are in for quite the adventure." Taking a bite of his venison he frowned, feeling guilty about this whole situation. Brand-Shei wasn't a fighter. He could hold out against thieves, bandits, or any sort of usual threat, but he was just learning how to fully use his magic. The college was supposed to be a place to safeguard him from those worse threats, where he could finally feel comfortable sleeping in a bed without having a knife under the pillow. "I'm sorry any of this had to happen. We just wanted to keep you out of our problems, out of what you didn't even know was coming yet. Funny how that never seems to actually work. If you want us to help you, just ask and we will make sure you make it out of this, one way or another."

To his surprise Brand-Shei just laughed, though he did nod assent. "I'll admit I was hoping for a bit of help but really, how could you have seen something like this happening? I know what it's like to be scrounging for scraps, not knowing when or how your next meal will come. I know enough to be grateful for some good in life, even if it comes tied to something you need to work for. This? I have whatever sort of food I could care to eat every day, a place that I can spend the nights, and if it's a bit small, well, it's better than a lousy cot in the Bunkhouse any day. No thieves, no beggars roaming the streets, and best of all, no Black-Briars! If all I have to do to earn all of that is hunt down a few artifacts, I would gladly pay that twice! I like it here, even if it is a bit strange at times. One of the teachers here is actually trying to find out why the Dwemer disappeared, by recreating the event on a small scale!"

"Please tell me you're not serious..."

"I only wish. He wants me to find some artifact too, said it was necessary to... ah... oh how did he put it... resonate the tonal energies? I have no idea what he meant. The thing was being transported from Morrowind, I know that much, and I have to figure out what happened to the one bringing it in. Dead, I'm sure, but I have to go get whatever it was he had."

Something didn't feel right. This strange item he was talking about sounded familiar. A Morrowind artifact, probably high risk, used to alter tonal energies while having an effect on the disappearance of the Dwemer. "If it is what I think it is, you will definitely need our help. One of the many things we lost in Vvardenfell were both of Kagrenac's tools, Sunder and Keening. If either of those are being transported into Skyrim you're right, the courier is certainly dead. Handling Keening, at least, without Wraithguard does a fine bit of damage to the user's health. You had better let my wife handle it, she's the Nerevarine after all."

"You need that Wraithguard though, right? Did you lose that also?"

He nodded, regretting like so many times before all the things they had to leave behind. "Yes, but I'm not worried. Whichever tool it is, I'm sure she will know what to do."

"I hope so. I really do want to see how this experiment turns out."

"I do too, to be honest, but let's try not to get our hopes up," he cautioned. "I don't know what will happen, but let her take care of it." He slumped against the slanted side of the nearby wall, utterly exhausted. It had been a long day, but he didn't dare sleep while Laje-tal was in such a state. Brand-Shei must have picked up on his thoughts, casting him a sympathetic expression.

"It's alright, I'll keep watch. I've spent a few too many nights staying up late in the library, I don't think another will do much more harm. Besides, you're going to need the rest if you really plan on helping me clean up this mess."

Aryon huffed a humored agreement, knowing that at least he had a point. There wasn't much he could do if he was too tired, and he alone could defend all of them if something worse than the usual Skyrim wildlife decided to get curious. "Very well, but wake me if anything happens. I don't want to miss any of the excitement."

"I can't imagine why it wouldn't be working. Dwemer constructs have usually been quite reliable." Laje-tal glanced at the glowing map projected on the side of the Dwemer-built wall, the very irritated Synod member they had found containing his fury for the moment. "I'll admit this technology is different from anything I've seen before." She had recovered well enough from her exposure to the eye, but now she was facing a whole new set of problems, mainly keeping information about said eye from the Synod. The one living member of the research team now glared at her and her entourage in turn, his blue mage robes hardly hiding his frown.

"This is impossible! You have something at that college of yours, I'm sure of it! Admit it! You did this! This map was supposed to show all of Tamriel!"

"What about that other glowing point right there?" She was evading him, and she hoped he wouldn't notice. "It looks like there is something magical there as well, maybe it isn't just the college."

Now he quirked his head, puzzling as he peered at the other glowing spot on the hologram. "Hm, but that would be Labyrinthian, I think. I haven't heard of any sort of thing going on in there. Now wait a moment here... don't think you can just change the subject, Argonian. You might avoid it indefinitely but we will find out what you have there! If I had my colleagues alive and with me now, I would insist on forcing it out of you, but I know when I am outnumbered. Go and see what's in there, see if I care. I'm going back to the Synod, and you will be hearing from us again!" With a huff he shoved past the group and though Brand-Shei hesitated, she waved him off. "Let him go."

Once the Synod member was well out of the room and on his way, Aryon inspected the hologram with significant interest. "Amazing. To think that they could project with light an entire map of the world. Most of it, at least. The eye of Magnus certainly must be powerful to block out something like this. Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

She grinned. "That the staff might be in Labyrinthian? Maybe. It's worth trying."

Brand-Shei came closer too, though he was a bit more awed by the glowing map. He touched it with a hint of disbelief, snatching back his hand when all he felt was cold stone. "I can't even comprehend this thing. Do you really think it can show all points of magical power?"

"The Dwemer made all sorts of other things that didn't make much sense and had even stranger builds, I could easily see them wanting this. It might even have been created as a means to find the pieces of the Staff of Chaos or something of that sort. Who knows anymore? If there is the chance, though, I think we had better go make sure."

"I think Mirabelle will know more about Labyrinthian, or someone around the college."

"Better than going in blind." Taking out her pocket map, she marked the spot reflected on the glowing map with a scrape of her pencil, making a few notes in the margin. It was messy enough as it was with other notes, but it was too much a force of habit to try and stop. As soon as they compared their other observations, they headed out of the round oculory to the main entrance, but once they reached the bright light of the chilly outer ruins of Mzulft, a figure detached itself from a tree, approaching the group warily. Once he came close enough, Laje-tal drew back in surprise and Aryon reflexively put a hand on his dagger. "Talvas?" she said with a touch of shock, readying her own stance. "What are you doing here?"

Pulling his hood around his face further, the Dunmer came closer, keeping his voice low. "Quiet, someone might hear us. Look, I know we haven't had... the best of introductions, but there's... well, I don't know how else to put it. I think Master Neloth has finally gone mad!"

A brow raised, not sure how he meant. "As opposed to how he usually is?"

"I'm serious. He's been raving about some oddity at the Winterhold College and how it could revolutionize magic as we know it. That's nothing unusual but when he left behind his book of notes, I went to grab it to bring it to him and... well, look at this. The book opened to this page." He passed over a very heavy book, filled with who knew how many years of notes and work, paging through it until he found the spot he marked. Front and center was something anyone who studied conjuration would recognize, a page filled to the margin with a complete set of summoning runes, but what it was summoning was uncertain.

"This doesn't look like any sort of creature summoning I know about, not even for Xivilai. If I didn't know any better, I would say this was to try and summon a... oh, it can't be!" She hastily stepped over to Aryon, unceremoniously digging into his side pocket in his jacket where she knew he kept his newer journal. Naturally he was a little indignant about it but he was used to her getting caught up in the moment and just let her take it. Once she found the right page, though, it was clear to all of them just what she was thinking. At one time they had gone to see the odd museum in Dawnstar displaying relics from the Mythic Dawn, and Aryon, being the ever observant one, had sketched the remnants of the summoning page from the Mysterium Xarxes. "It looks just like this, but not... not quite. This page was meant to get the attention of Mehrunes Dagon, but what could this one be for? Or who?"

"Hermaeus Mora..." Everyone turned as Brand-Shei brought attention to his usually passive self, and once he noticed their glances he just crossed his arms nervously. "He's the one that taught you the bend will shout, right? The one you use to make the dragons come down to serve you? What better way to learn more about it than to summon the one who knows?"

"Ah, of course! How could I not have seen that? Well, he better have memorized this because it isn't staying any longer." Taking great care to cut the page out of the heavy tome, she then passed it to Aryon. "Here, you have page memory, why not save this one for another time?"

Aryon took the page with a touch of disgust, wondering at what exactly Neloth thought he was doing. "Tampering with daedra never did seem to bother him." Once he memorized the page, a small rune in the corner caught his eye. "Don't burn this one. It has protections against that."

"How annoying." Still, she wouldn't be an expert mage if she didn't know how to dispel a simple spell against fire, and it was only a moment before she burned it safely. "Hm... well now the question is, what was he intending to do? He was strangely interested in how the bend will shout Miraak used left everyone in town subject to his will. At first, they were only controlled by night but eventually they were influenced at all times. What if... oh. He couldn't be intending to use the eye of Magnus! Summon Hermaeus Mora, learn the bend will shout, use the power of the eye to expand its influence..."

"He would do it." Memorizing the next few very controversial pages in the book and destroying them after, his only emotion was one of resignation. "There isn't much if anything that can get you expelled from House Telvanni, but he has come close on more than a few occasions. Necromancy on former Arch-Magisters, turning a living one into a lich and sending it back to the family, conspiring with the Mages Guild to knowingly inflame tensions with the house, you name it. I can't much be surprised at anything he might do anymore."

Talvas hesitated as he watched the hefty book be destroyed page by page, the troubling but still useful information lost bit by bit. "I didn't think it would get like this. I never thought so, or I wouldn't have apprenticed myself to him to begin with. It isn't much, I know, but I would like to help you. I don't know much about any of you, but I couldn't think of anyone else who would know what to do." He looked at Laje-tal, now measuring her with a fresh eye. "I didn't know why he kept making such a fuss over an Argonian, but you must be different to make him so obsessed. I thought if nothing else, you might have some ideas. If he really does mean to do all of this, he needs to be stopped!"

Laje-tal sighed, feeling a bit remorseful as well about destroying the book, even if Aryon could well memorize the entire thing. "I felt the power of the eye, and it has more than enough energy to fuel a spell like that on a large scale for a long period of time. No doubt the Psijics will be writhing in their seats when they hear about this, and might even forget their vow not to tamper with the turn of events. Are you sure you want to do this, Talvas? You'd be betraying your master, you know."

"I know." Gripping his cloak further around him against the cold, he felt an uncertainty he hadn't known for a long time. "I'll be doing a lot of things I've always been told not to do. Conspiring against a superior, destroying valuable research, associating with Argonians." He huffed a small laugh at that. "He knew you, though, so he must have associated with you, even unwillingly."

Under the weight of what might well come, she found it impossible to grin at the thought of all the times she had forced his cooperation. "If you're to do this, then, you should know who I am and the real extent of what you are doing." Pulling off the thick winter glove on her left hand, she showed him her moon and star ring. "I know you will find this impossible to believe and at first I did too, but I'm the Nerevarine from Vvardenfell. Neloth didn't just know me, I was his superior in the house. I challenged the former Arch-Magister to become that myself, all while fulfilling the prophecies of the Nerevarine. I wouldn't recommend testing the ring to see if it really does kill anyone but me, I guarantee it does indeed work that way."

"You're insane too." He frowned in disbelief, looking at her two companions to see if either of them were in on the joke, but neither shifted in their moods, both looking grim. "That can't be true. How would an Argonian even get into the house, much less be of any significant rank? How could one be the Nerevarine? I thought the Nerevarine was a Dunmer man."

"Neloth told you that?" Seeing the man's somewhat penitent gaze to the side, it confirmed what she thought. "It figures he would spread stories like that, few are left alive who could refute it. Believe it or don't, it doesn't matter. I only told you so you would know." Her stomach suddenly lurched, not quite fully recovered from her ordeal with the eye of Magnus, and she retreated inside her cloak, the world suddenly feeling very, very cold. "If you're coming, then let's go."

Aryon was about a fourth of the way through the pages in the book, but he noticed her faltering right away. He put the thing away in his pack for later, taking off his long overcloak and wrapping her up in it tightly. "You're overdoing it again. I know we have to move quickly but we can't keep pushing on like this if you can't handle it. Can you make it to Kynesgrove?"

"Yes, it's not that far, I don't think." She reached to pick up her pack, not sure when she had dropped it, but leaning over made the world spin violently and before she knew it, she was on the ground again. "Gods, Aryon, I want to but... I just can't."

Picking her up carefully to not disturb her orientation any further, he turned towards the southeast. "Not much help for it, we'll have to head over to the Imperial camp nearby."

Brand-Shei took out one of the potions from Laje-tal's pack that he remembered drained away her excess magicka, uncorking it for her as she reached for it gratefully. "Do you think they will help us?"

Nearby, though, Talvas withdrew suddenly, brows furrowed. "Imperials? Are we really going to go beg sanctuary with Imperials?"

"Yes," Aryon said with complete conviction, challenging the former apprentice with a glare. "She can't make it to Kynesgrove and we're running low on supplies. I'm not going to risk a night in the wilderness with her in this condition. Wait here if you want, but I'm going." He headed down the pathway leading out of Mzulft, Brand-Shei not far behind, and before long Talvas also followed along with resignation. Certainly he knew that without the group he would be out here on his own, and he had still betrayed Neloth. Burning his bridges behind him had been a risk he had hastily taken and now he was paying for it. Now he was doing yet another thing he had sworn never to do, associating with the Imperial Army.

The road into the camp was cold and rough but thankfully short, the camp fires a welcome beacon in the waning day. Most of the soldiers were eating around their individual fires or working on their gear or weapons, but they all rose to attention as the unusual band of mages wandered into their sight. Some withdrew and unsheathed their weapons defensively, while someone went to fetch the camp's leader. Before long a well-armed legate rushed out of his tent, armor hastily donned and a frown on his face. A few others quickly surrounded the mages, and the legate regarded them warily. "Hold, travelers, you are in Imperial territory. What is your business here?"

Aryon stopped as the others in his party instinctively came closer to him, forming an equally defensive circle. His instincts pricked at the many weapons being pointed his way, but Laje-tal suddenly shivered in his arms, bringing him back in focus. "My wife is sick and needs help. We've come to seek shelter if we can."

Of course the man was skeptical, looking at the woman who was so heavily bundled he couldn't even see her face. The cough that came from her, though, was very much a real one but it was a hard time to be letting in strangers. "I'm sorry, but this is a time of war and it's hard to give over trust so easily. I can't let you all stay here."

Laje-tal pulled the cloak away just long enough to show the man her face, her vision blurring but still able to meet his gaze, managing some sarcasm even now. "If you want Alduin dead, I'd suggest letting us in."

As expected the man looked at her strangely, not sure how to receive such an odd group but knowing who she was and what she meant to the Nords. "Dragonborn? The Nords think you're some sort of hero, you could be working with the Stormcloaks!"

Aryon gritted his teeth, irritated."You really think such as us would work with Stormcloaks?" Still, the man had a point. "Surely you can tell that she couldn't harm anyone the way she is. It's magic sickness, and she can't travel any farther."

"Magic sickness?" He relaxed somewhat, at least no longer holding his weapon in a death grip. "I'm afraid I don't know much about that. Well... I suppose you wouldn't be Stormcloak spies. They wouldn't want to work with your kind anyway. I'll see if one of our healers can take a look at her." The rest of the soldiers let back enough to let them in but still kept alert, clearing out one of the smaller supply tents enough to set up a small pallet. Brand-Shei gathered a large amount of firewood together and started a hearty blaze just outside the fragile tent, watching as Aryon sat carefully nearby, letting Laje-tal get some warmth.

She tugged off both of her gloves, reaching for the blaze gratefully. "Thank goodness, I was getting numb. I'm alright now, Aryon, you don't have to coddle me."

"Nonsense." Behind her he only took off another layer, draping that too around her shoulders. "If I have my way you won't move from that spot for the rest of the night."

"Have your way, then." Shivering despite the fire right in front of her and the several layers of clothing, she looked over at Talvas, who was giving her an odd look from the corner. "Before you ask, yes, Aryon and I really are married. I suppose I should have mentioned that."

Once again Talvas wasn't sure if this was another joke, but again he could tell that it was the truth. He just couldn't fathom all of the things he had been told today. "I can't believe this." Sinking down to sit near the wall of the tent, he held his head, the world as he knew it crumbling piece by piece. "I just... do you know what I've been told since I was born to House Telvanni? Argonians are the lowest of the sentient creatures, barely more than beasts, useful for menial labor but not much else." Nearby Brand-Shei held his tongue, knowing this was simply how other Dunmer had been raised, but he still clenched his jaw. "Related to dreugh, or so it said in the handful of books on them. But a mage, a highly skilled one? A scholar, historian, maybe a writer? We thought they were mostly illiterate, that they couldn't comprehend half of what they read anyway."

Laje-tal snorted, tossing another log onto the fire. "It often starts that way, but there is always a time when you can make a change in your life. Whether or not you actually make that change is what shows whether you are intelligent. Do you really want to go back to thinking that way now?"

"I don't know what to think anymore."

"That's a start." From the edge of the camp someone approached their tent, wearing full healer robes and hood. It was a woman, and after a puzzled glance around, she turned to the group.

"The legate said there was a woman with magic sickness in here?"

"Over here." Laje-tal waved the woman over, turning to the side long enough to let her in. The other woman was also a Dunmer, getting up in years but still retaining the lasting youthfulness of her race. Something about her seemed familiar, but the right side of her face and body were so covered by scars and burns she wasn't sure. Once the woman drew closer to inspect her, though, not wavering in the slightest in treating an Argonian, it became clear just who it was. "By Azura is that you, Tunila?"

"Laje-tal?" Pulling back her heavy hood, revealing her ever-white hair, her eyes widened in surprise at seeing the master of Tel Uvirith for the first time in over two hundred years. "It is you! We all thought you dead!"

"There were many close calls, for sure." Looking back at a baffled Aryon, she nodded toward him briefly. "You remember Tunila Omavel, right? She was the house healer at Tel Uvirith. Why, you were just a novice when you came into my service, I wondered every now and then what had become of you and the others. You were burned by the ash, weren't you?"

"I was, but never mind that. Let's see about that magic sickness of yours. I always knew you would overdo it someday."

"It was that damned eye of Magnus they have at the college. I was so full of magic from that thing, I didn't have a choice but to let it go." She let the woman poke and prod at her as she would, inspecting this and that as she determined what sort of action to take. "What of the others? Are they alive? I never expected you to follow an Imperial army."

Tunila sighed, summoning a bit of light to help the process. "I never did either, but a lot happened after you escaped. All of the other Dunmer knew I worked for you, and though at first I only did so because it was my duty as a member of the house, everyone knew we all grew to like you over the years. Nobody else would take us because of it, not after we worked for an Argonian. Gorven managed to find work as an alchemist in Cyrodiil, and Hlendrisa fled to Ebonheart, though I don't know where she went from there. She left a hard trail to follow, which I'm certain she did on purpose. Farena was nearly executed, she was accused of aiding Argonians during the Accession War. Being associated with you was all the proof they had, and Queen Barenziah quickly threw that nonsense out of court. It caused quite a stir, though. House Redoran was divided for a while on their stance on how to handle all of the people that had been known to aid you after the war, but you can see how that turned out."

"They soon had better things to worry about." Groaning in relief as a warming salve was rubbed into her stiff and frigid hands, she stretched her aching joints carefully. "Any idea what happened to my Mouth? I haven't even heard if he might have died."

"I'm not sure either. Oddly enough, he joined the Twin Lamps for a while but... I'm not sure why. I know he enjoyed working with you, but to help other Argonians? The last I heard was that he had also gone into Cyrodiil."

Laje-tal smiled to herself, having a small idea of why Eddie had done what he did. After seeing what just one slave could do when given the chance to change their path, he may have been inspired to see just how many others might do the same. "I'm sure he's doing well with whatever he might be doing. I wish I could ward off this magic sickness."

"There isn't much that can be done," she admitted, handing a strong bitter tea over to her. "You are awake at least, and able to talk and move without much trouble as long as you are resting, so the worst is over." Sitting on a nearby cushion to mix up another batch of salve to use on mana burns, she turned to the rest of the party, looking at Aryon in particular. "Ah, Master Aryon, it's good to see you also. How has that long and torturous adventure we call marriage been going for you?"

He laughed at that, having missed her good humor. "I knew that being with the Nerevarine would come with its own host of problems, but I didn't think it would come with a Dragonborn!" Over the course of the next hour he relayed the highlights of most of what happened since the Oblivion Crisis. By then everyone had more or less gotten used to each other, and even Talvas came closer to the fire as they split rations and ate quietly as Aryon spoke. "We lost the Staff of Magnus long ago, of course, moving from one owner to another as it does, but it's the only thing that could help us with the eye. We suspect it might be in Labyrinthian, but we're going to see if anyone at the College knows more."

"I'm sure it will work out. The staff should remember you, I've no doubt it will let you find it again." Now she gestured at Talvas, who was still sitting uncomfortably on the fringe of their circle. "I feel like I know you from somewhere. Who is the youngling?"

Talvas unconsciously pulled farther back, looking at her nervously. "Ah... Talvas, also Telvanni. I'm Neloth's apprentice. I mean... not anymore."

"All for the better, to stay in one piece. I had been with the house for a long time even before I went to serve at Tel Uvirith, and I can tell you that Neloth was a hard sort of person even then. Lost everything to the blight, that's when he started to change."

Aryon frowned, not remembering anything like that. "When was that? At the beginning of the failure of the Ghostfence?"

"Long before that, actually. The blight had been around for a very long time already, and though the Ghostfence was in place it didn't keep all of it inside. Back when we first investigated it, we didn't know what it was or what it could do. I'll admit I have used some of the spells in the past to alter my aging, so I am older than I look. Much of the house was called in to research what had been suddenly infecting the local wildlife, but he had been away on the mainland taking his place on the council there for a few weeks, so he wasn't there when the team came down with the blight. Many couldn't be helped. Nobody knew what to do, and finally when I was just trying to come up with something halfway passable to eat, I mixed scrib jelly and ash salts together and it fixed me right up."

He looked away into the distance, understanding better now why Neloth had been so intractable when the blight bypassed the Ghostfence entirely and started terrorizing all of Vvardenfell. By then he had already known so much death. "So you managed to cure the rest of them. How many survived?"

"Only myself and about five others, and there were thirty of us. Everyone he had left in his family died in those days, his wife and his son as well as his brother. There was a second cousin of his, she made it out alright, but when he returned to the news, he just... left. He shut himself up in his tower, refusing to have anyone bother him unless it was important."

"If he had kept things that way, this wouldn't be necessary." Sparing a glance at Laje-tal, who had been unusually quiet through this exchange, he frowned, looking her over with a touch of concern. "Are you alright?" He took her shaking hands in his, doing what he could to warm them up. "Your hands are almost as cold as High Hrothgar."

She ignored the question, though she did not withdraw her hands. They did indeed feel like they were nearly icicles. "I understand him somewhat. I'm sure you do, too. It's a hard thing to have people you care about die, especially when you know that had you been there, maybe you could have helped. I might not have had that feeling with my own family, but I made many friends on Vvardenfell and I can't imagine how many are now dead. Jobasha and his questionable bookstore, Skink at the mages guild, and of course Baladas, he was much too stubborn to leave Gnisis, and who knows what happened to Divayth and his odd daughters." Her voice was quiet, maybe a bit weakened by the mage drain, but there was no mistaking the finality of what she had to say. "In a way, we have both lost everything more than once, but it is what we do after that determines what path we will take. He can go ahead and sink deeper into his hatred, but he will suffer the consequences for it. We can give him a choice, but once he has chosen, there will be no going back."

A heavy silence descended on their small group, all huddled inside the cramped tent getting what little warmth they could in the lower mountains. None of them wanted to break that silence, knowing that if they did, the tension would only worsen. Finally Tunila sighed, wrapping a spare blanket around her shoulders. "I'll take second watch. I never could sleep through the night easily." With that all possibility of conversation was gratefully ended, the rest of them dividing first and last watch evenly. Whatever might come, it could wait.