Beryn felt someone shaking her shoulder, softly at first, and then more insistently, with a few words that were probably an order to get up. She swatted at whoever was disturbing her sleep when she noticed the twinges of pain in her shoulders, back, and neck. She was sitting up? Why would she have been sleeping sitting up? Beryn opened her eyes to see a book on her lap, and remembered with sudden clarity her late-night trip to the Arcanaeum.

"Beryn, seriously." Beryn heard a frustrated voice more clearly this time and identified it as the Nord she had met last night, Torsten. "You've been sitting here all night, and the sun's about to come up again."

Beryn raised her head this time and saw Torsten's blue eyes glaring irritably down at her. "Wha—" Beryn rubbed her eyes with one hand. "What time did you say it was?"

"The sun's about to rise." Torsten informed her, seemingly satisfied that she was awake. "So much for not wanting to study all night, right?"

"Ugh." Beryn rolled her neck and shoulders, attempting to loosen the tight, painful muscle. "Did I at least get something done before falling asleep?"

"You opened that book and read a few pages." Torsten offered, nodding to the book on her lap. "I think that's about it, though."

Beryn groaned with frustration and shut the book, setting it on the table nearby. "Great."

"Having trouble with magic?" Torsten asked with narrowed eyes.

"Yes." Beryn puffed out a breath with exasperation. "I've been here for six months and I've barely made any progress. I feel like I've hit a stone wall."

"Why did you come here?" Torsten inquired.

"For as long as I can remember, I've always wanted to be a mage." Beryn explained absentmindedly, glancing at the book she'd held on her lap all night. "I was recently given the opportunity to come here and learn more, but so far I've been nothing but a miserable failure."

"At least you're trying." Torsten pointed out. "I know a lot of people who just take their power for granted. If you have to work for it, then it'll mean more when you finally master it."

"If I master it." Beryn muttered, frustrated. "What do you know about magic?"

"I had some inherent ability before coming here." Torsten admitted as Beryn got up to return the book to its proper place in one of the many bookshelves housed by the Arcanaeum. "I came here to refine it, learn some new tricks."

"At my rate, I'll be lucky to have any sort of ability by the time I'm a hundred." Beryn declared.

Torsten hesitated, then blurted out, "I could help you."

Caught by surprise, Beryn half-turned from the bookshelf, and seeing that Torsten was serious, turned on her heel and frowned. "What?"

"I mean, only if you wanted. I know a bit that I could teach you." Torsten offered, more confidently this time. "If you're really as desperate to learn as you say you are."

"I'm no liar, Torsten, and I certainly don't lie about my willingness to learn." one corner of Beryn's mouth quirked up in a smile. "So if you can help me, I'll take whatever I can get. Where do we start?"

Sethys and Nivette made their camp near a crevice marked as Bronze Water Cave on Nivette's map, which was already heavily marked with location names and notes. Apparently Nivette had been a nomad for most of her life, and found that having an annotated map would help her a great deal. It was a bit cold for Sethys' liking, but Nivette started a fire with almost shameful simplicity, and before long, both of them were on one side of the fire, warming their hands.

"I can't stand the cold." Nivette remarked idly as she took off her steel plate gauntlets and laid them down on one of the nearby stones, rubbing more warmth into her hands.

"I never really acclimated to it, myself." Sethys replied absently.

There was a beat of silence before Nivette sat herself back and said, "You still owe me an explanation for why you were looking so thoughtful earlier."

"I don't 'owe you' anything, Nivette." Sethys shot back mildly. "You came on this trip because you said you were restless, and I never agreed to say anything."

"Come on." Nivette wheedled plaintively, as though she was five years old. She often acted as though she was five years old, but at least back in Whiterun Sethys could dash off with the excuse that he had a job that needed doing. Now, he had no such escape.

"No." Sethys retorted flatly. The inherent chill of this border area near both the Pale and Eastmarch was making him short-tempered. "It's none of your business."

Nivette's eyebrows shot up. "Well, it sounds like someone's got a—"

Sethys raised his hand, halting Nivette's flow of words. He glanced around their small campsite furtively. "Did you hear that?"

There was silence for a moment as Nivette strained her ears for what Sethys might have heard. "No, what was it?"

"That," Sethys responded with a sly grin, "was the blissful sound of silence."

Nivette's jaw dropped with indignant mirth. "I could kill you for that, Indaryon."

"But you won't." Sethys replied dismissively, which he knew would only antagonize Nivette more. "You don't have the guts."

Nivette paused. "If it was fifteen degrees warmer and I had dirt under my boots instead of ice, I'd make you eat those words."

"Fair enough." Sethys nodded once. "Truce?"

"For now." Nivette's face took on a menacing look, and for a split second Sethys felt apprehension, then he dismissed it. It was just Nivette, after all. "Just wait till we get back to Whiterun and we'll see who's got guts." Nivette's ear twitched and she jerked her head in the direction of whatever she'd just heard. "Did you hear that?"

"You're not going to fool me with that, Nivette, not after I just pulled it on you." Sethys joked.

"No, Sethys, I'm serious." Nivette's face was grim, and it brought Sethys up short. Nivette was hardly ever serious about anything, even combat. More often than not, they would spar while Nivette had a wild, macabre grin on her face. Now, though, her face was drawn and grave, and it was a frightening change. "Listen."

So Sethys listened. It was almost a full minute before he finally caught whatever Nivette must have heard: the faintest creak of what might have been armored joints; he heard the sound quite a bit in Jorrvaskr. In this weather, it could have been mistaken for the wind, and so Sethys decided to perceive it as such. "It's just the wind, Nivette. You should get some rest."

Nivette shook her head. "I grew up as a huntress in Valenwood, Sethys Indaryon. I know the difference between the sound of wind and the sound of an ambush being laid."

"That was surprisingly specific." Sethys raised his eyebrows. "How do you know it's an ambush? It could just be some travelers who happened to walk by."

Nivette shot Sethys an exasperated glare. "For the love of Y'ffre, would you take this seriously? What if both of us die because you were utterly convinced some bandits wouldn't love to attack two lone travelers in the dead of night."

"Two well-armed travelers." Sethys remarked in return. "I think if it is an ambush, they'll get more than they bargained for."

Nivette sighed and sat back down. "I see you're refusing to consider the completely plausible option that we might very well be under attack in less than a few minutes. Fine. Let me at least shut my eyes for a few seconds."

"What, you think a few seconds of sleep is going to help you?" Sethys asked, only partially in jest.

"No. Just in case it is an ambush, maybe I can fake dead and they'll only kill you." Nivette's mouth curved into a mischievous arc as she laid on her back, using her small pack as a pillow.

"I can feel your concern for my life just oozing from every pore, Nivette." Sethys teased.

"Sure, whatever helps you fall asleep at night." Nivette shot back without opening her eyes. Laying flat on the bare ice couldn't have been comfortable, but perhaps Nivette was so accustomed to sleeping in her armor that unforgiving surfaces didn't bother her anymore. Sethys himself still preferred a nice, warm bed any day.

While Nivette lightly dozed, the worries about a possible impending ambush faded from Sethys' mind, to be replaced, interestingly enough, by a sudden wave of nostalgia and homesickness, although intellectually Sethys knew he had no home now except Jorrvaskr. Whatever had been left on Solstheim was likely long gone. He hadn't thought about his parents for quite a long time, except when he'd been reminiscing with Odiana in Whiterun several months ago. Sethys hadn't wanted to think about his father, but his mother...she merited more thought than he'd given her in too long.

He remembered how gratifying it had been to talk about some of his childhood stories with Odiana, and his occasional frustration with Beryn, who unfortunately seemed to take more after their father. For a while, he'd had no one to chat with except Beryn, and while he loved his sister dearly, he couldn't complain about her to her face. He was the older brother, after all, expected to keep his head and solve problems diplomatically. It was usually not very hard for Sethys to accomplish this, but Beryn knew how to get on Sethys' nerves like only a sister could.

Still, it would be nice—and would soothe some of his worries—to see that she was safe, happy, and enjoying her studies.

Crack.

Sethys was jerked out of his thoughts by the sudden sound, and Nivette had scarcely said, groggily, "What—" before they were set upon by warriors in armor that appeared to be, at first glance, something resembling steel plate.

Caught off guard, the two Companions scrambled for weapons and decent maneuverability, but on this ice it was almost impossible to get a good foothold. Both Sethys and Nivette were put on the defensive right away, and after only a few moments Sethys was forced to focus on saving his own hide. Nivette could look after herself, and right now, it was every warrior for themselves.

As Sethys fended off an attacker, he noticed that the armor was not, in fact, steel plate, as he'd thought it was at first. It was dark, perhaps very dark blue or a blue-black, and it was old; he could see marks of age and use even as he dodged flighty blows from one warrior. Another quickly launched at him, smacking him with a round, wide shield. Stunned, Sethys fell forward, hitting his head on the ice, and caught a glimpse of Nivette attempting to fend off two attackers at once. As he watched, a third joined in. He had to get up and help her; for all her skill, even Nivette couldn't fight three opponents at once.

Sethys tried to push himself to his feet and his vision swam and swayed. He saw his sword laying on the ground not far away, and lashed a hand out to grab it. He felt a trickle of warmth on his head and reached his other hand up to brush it away. His fingers came back with dark red blood across them, and his head throbbed painfully. Yet, if he wasn't mistaken, he heard a horse's fast-approaching hoofbeats, and he raised his head in time to see a horse, black as midnight, vault over the stone outcrop that had served as a meager shelter from the wintry weather. A woman in full glass armor with a silver shield vaulted herself off the horse's back and landed nearby Nivette. What happened next, Sethys swore would be engraved in his memory for the rest of his life.

The person—undoubtedly a woman—drew herself up to her full height, took a deep breath, and she Shouted, "Zun, Haal VIIK!"

A blue wave of energy seemed to wrench the weapons from three of the warriors' hands, and, dumbstruck, they couldn't even defend themselves as a single arrow, glowing white-hot and exploding with painful intensity in the darkness of night, sent all three of them crashing to the ground, their bodies flickering with persistent sun fire.

The two warriors that had incapacitated Sethys ran over to face this new threat, but the woman put herself in a fighting stance, and as one warrior swung down energetically and eagerly, the woman simply smacked the sword down and used her silver shield to send him flying several meters away, where he did not rise again.

Somewhere in Sethys' muddled, foggy thoughts, he made the connections. Shouting, a silver shield, exploding arrows...

Odiana!

Well, I'm damned if I haven't perfected the art of arriving at the most dramatic nick of time. Sethys was down, possibly unconsicous, and his Bosmer friend worried me somewhat; she had a bloodlust in her eyes I'd never seen from another living soul. She continued to fight three assailants even though I could see the fatigue in her frame. I disabled her three attackers with my disarming Shout before finishing them off with one of my exploding arrows shot from Auriel's bow.

Two more Blades warriors ran over to me, away from Sethys, who they must have just knocked out, possibly killed. The thought that I might have arrived too late to save him filled me with white-hot rage unrivaled even by my molten Sunhallowed arrows. I smacked the sword of my first attacker down before flinging my shield up underneath him, sending him flying down the ice.

The final Blades warrior clearly realized he was vastly outnumbered, and attempted to quickly turn and run away, but I flexed my fingers, summoning a small amount of magicka, and with my newly-mastered firebolt spell, I put the retreating Blade down, body and armor still smoking. I could never tell Solian this, but working on the spell he taught me often kept me from going insane trying to figure out all the impossibilities of being Dragonborn.

For the moment, I ignored the Bosmer woman and strode quickly over to Sethys. Kneeling down on one knee, I carefully turned him over. "Sethys?"

I watched his red eyes shadow briefly with confusion, then light up. "Odiana, I thought that was you." Sethys sat up without any assistance from me, but I remained kneeling at his level in case he decided he needed it. "You got here in time, which is good, but I'm...very confused. Who were those warriors? Why did they try to kill us? How did you know where we'd be?"

I sighed heavily. I'd have a lot of explaining to do, but right now my first concern had to be getting Sethys back to Viingaal-Kun. "I can explain all that once you've seen some healing attention and a great deal of sleep."

"I'm fine, by the way." I heard the voice of Sethys' Bosmer companion from a few feet away, where she sat trying to regain her breath from the brief skirmish. "Thanks for checking on me."

I glanced at Sethys, and with a slight wince—his head had to be smarting quite a bit—he made the introductions. "Nivette, this is Odiana Sky-Born. Odiana, this is Nivette Ivylock, a fellow Companion."

"I've heard your name before." Nivette stated, instantly focusing her bright gaze on me. "You're—"

"Dragonborn, yes." I finished wearily. "What, did you think I was just some hapless traveler who knew ancient dragon Shouts?"

With a slight huff and pursed lips from Nivette, I could tell I was already getting off to a less than favorable start with her, but I decided to worry about it after Sethys had gotten some medical attention for his head. Rummaging through my horse's pack, I found a small healing potion and doused a small portion of it on a rag I found at the bottom of my pack before pressing it to Sethys' forehead. He winced again, and I hoped he hadn't been hurt too badly. I would need both his and his sister's help soon.

"Can you stay balanced on a horse?" I asked Sethys. He looked like he was about to pass out, and I could walk back to Viingaal-Kun if necessary.

Sethys nodded slowly, carefully. "I believe so."

"Good." I beckoned towards Nivette. "The two of you are going to be riding Tor. He'll follow me. We probably won't be stopping along the way; it'll take long enough to make it back to Viingaal-Kun at this speed as it is."

"Viingaal-Kun?" Sethys inquired, but his words were indistinct.

"You'll see when we get there, Sethys. Just rest for now." a small surge of protectiveness caught me by surprise. Sethys wasn't too much younger than me, perhaps only by six or seven years, but I felt some sort of protective instinct for him and his sister. They had been friends to me when I needed them most, if only for a brief time, and no one was going to hurt them and get away with it.

It was a long walk from Sethys and Nivette's campsite to my remote fortress. Day broke and shed its cheerful light over our slow procession, and I often looked over my shoulder to check on Sethys. He had been asleep almost since we'd first set off. Nivette was sitting behind him, and for a while it appeared as though she was trying her hardest to remain awake, but as the sun rose I looked back and saw her sleeping as well, her cheek resting on Sethys' back. I was not yet sure of the depth of their relationship, but they were, at very least, friends. I would get a complete account of what had happened to Sethys when we arrived at Viingaal-Kun, though.

We had just passed through Shor's Stone when I saw a group of three approaching us at a breakneck walk. I quickly stopped Tor, willed him to stay where he was with his precious cargo, and walked out to meet the three people. They wore very strange attire: there was a dusty, golden brown robe with something that was probably supposed to resemble dragon scales on one sleeve, shoulder to gloved hands. Their masks, though, were the strangest part: they were a slightly off-white color that reminded me of sun-bleached bone, marked with jagged scratches where the eyes should be, and there were spiky protrusions emerging from the side and front. Most curious. I decided to play it as safe as I could with these strange people.

"Help you with something?" I asked tensely, laying a hand on my bow casually.

"You the one they call Dragonborn?" the lead person demanded harshly. This was now going south at a rapid pace, but I clenched my jaw. If I attacked them now, I could be overwhelmed. They carried no visible weapons, which led me to believe they were mages. If there was one thing I had learned from Solian, on the day he had taught me that firebolt spell: it was that mages couldn't be disarmed, not without a specific type of poison.

"The Graybeards seem to think so." I responded tightly, my jaw was stil clenched.

"Then it is too late. The lie has already spread to the hearts of men." the man who had addressed me first lamented. "So we shall prove the falsness of their hearts by ripping out yours, Deceiver! When Lord Miraak appears, all shall bear witness!" the man seemed almost reverent as he mentioned this 'Miraak', but I was infinitely more concerned with freeing my bow and an arrow from my back. With one final declaration, "None shall stand to oppose him!" the group of three charged at me.

I was more than prepared, and used only the first word of a dismaying Shout, "Faas!" to briefly stun and intimidate them, though in hindsight I should have used at least two Words; one had only been enough to confuse them for a few seconds and I now didn't have the energy to Shout again. I resorted instead to firing my arrow directly at the lead cultist—for it was clear to me through the first one's fanatical statements that I was now dealing with a cult of some kind—and braced myself away from the explosion of sun fire. With their leader down, the other two redoubled their efforts, and I did something probably very stupid: I tackled the next cultist head-on.

This one was a woman, and I could tell I'd caught her briefly by surprise; I had to use the time well, but for the life of me I couldn't think of anything. Suddenly, I was struck with an idea and sent magicka to my free hand while I fended off the cultist's attempt to dislodge me. I gathered fire there, but instead of shooting it out in the form of a fireball, I simply slammed my fire-coated hand into the masked face of the cultist. She fell back, incapacitated or dead, and I felt myself yanked off the cultist's body by the final one of the trio, who I'd all but forgotten about. I heard the wet, metallic sliding sound of a sword, a cough, and then the grip on the collar of my armor slackened.

I looked up to see Nivette behind the cultist, her sword having run him straight through. I still saw that same look of utter bloodlust in her golden-brown eyes, and it still unsettled me just as much as the first time I'd seen it.

"You were making such a racket, you woke me up." Nivette informed me with a yawn. "Figured I should see what all the fuss was about."

"I appreciate the help." I said as I began rifling through pockets. Someone had to have sent these assassins after me, and I was going to find out who. My fingers closed on a piece of half-burnt parchment, and I tugged it free, unfolding it. Sadly, some of the writing had been lost, but I managed to make out a few lines, "kill the False Dragonborn", "Solstheim", and "Lord Miraak" were the only things I could make out upon a cursory inspection. I tucked the note into one of the few pockets in my glass armor before rising to my feet. "Are you all right?"

"Oh, now you ask, when we're probably over halfway to wherever it is we're going." Nivette shot back. "Of course I'm all right. I ran a guy through with a sword. Big deal."

I frowned as Nivette pulled herself back onto Tor behind Sethys, who was still blissfully unaware. I was now going to need his help sooner than I thought. I recalled that Sethys and Beryn had grown up on Solstheim. I didn't expect him to know why cultists had been sent after me, but perhaps he did have some insight on where I could start searching. One thing had been made clear by those cultists: this 'Lord Miraak', whoever he happened to be, was out for my blood. I intended to spill his first.

Fortunately, the rest of our journey to Viingaal-Kun was uneventful, and after I had helped Sethys down, half-carried him inside to the infirmary, and found Nivette some temporary lodging, Solian had tracked me down anxiously.

"Was that Sethys I saw you helping inside?" he asked, worried. "Is he injured?"

I took off my glass helmet and tapped my forehead a few times with two fingers in demonstration. "Fell on his head during a skirmish with some Blades agents. He should be fine, but I'm going to need his help soon."

Solian must have recognized the grave look on my face, because he said, "Something's happened." It wasn't a question. He knew that something had changed beyond my usual problems with the Blades and the dragons and the Thalmor.

"I'm afraid so." I replied with a wry smile and shake of my head. "How would you feel about a trip to Solstheim?"