Prison is not the place for a Redguard who was adhering to Stendarr's will.

I am not the same as these murderers and thieves; this dung on the boot of civilisation. That creature, the one that boarded the Water-Thorn that fateful day, caused this to happen. I, a loyal Crown of Satakalaam, was forced to share space with such an abomination, an affront to divine Stendarr and His edicts. Was I in the wrong to do as I did? To protect who I thought were my brothers-in-arms against that seductive, evil entity that dared invade our home? No. They were under its spell, and for that, I suffer.

Be warned, ye who read my scrawls when I am sent to the executioner's axe; it was only through my blade training and the natural iron will of my people that I was able to see Uvus for what it truly was and resist its snare. I will record the course of our journey on whatever parchment I can scavenge or bargain for. None should forget – this 'Uvus' is no mer who ever belonged in Tamriel.

Entry #4:

Auridon stirred a memory in him that he had long attempted to bury.

It was in the distance, little more than a speck on the horizon, and yet Uvus could almost hear the birdsong that would envelop them the moment he stepped from the ship, see the shallows and coral reefs that decorated the shoreline and stretched out into an endless expanse of crystal-clear ocean. Beautiful views and trees heavy with pink blossoms would welcome them, but the mer's frown was like iron as he looked upon the island ahead. Summerset reminded him of a pain that had never truly faded. Friends that he had not embraced in life.

He wondered for how long an immortal's tears were meant to shed for mortal lives.

Minlas had informed him that in four hours, the Water-Thorn would make landfall. To him, it was both an instant and an eon, for he did not know what awaited him on those shores – nor, he feared, would he be joyed to find out. Uvus watched as the island crept nearer and nearer, the ship like a cutter through the water, while in the distance he saw the proud Eagle flags that adorned ornate ships filled with Dominion sailors. The gulls cawed, and if his heart beat, he did not feel it.

From the helm of the ship, where he stood beside his captain, Hashik watched the mer through narrowed eyes. It had been a full week with him in their midst, and the sailor was glad that it would soon be over.

"I cannot wait to be done with this," he said to Minlas. The Bosmer glanced at him, his eyebrow arched.

"It's been a quiet journey," he pointed out. "No raids, no rough seas – almost boring, really."

"I would face a hundred Orcs if it meant we never had to ferry one such as him again."

"He hasn't caused any trouble, Hash," Minlas said. A fresh, cool breeze brushed against his face, and the captain raised his head to smell the sea-brine air. "Besides, he's paid a ridiculous amount for just a ship ride. I've been considering docking for a while and escorting him to the ruins."

"What?"

Hashik snapped his head towards him, his features hardened, his wide nose flared as if he could not quite contain himself. It was not often that he lost his temper, but when he did, the Redguard was a force to be reckoned with.

"Doesn't feel right, taking so much coin from him without at least making sure he reaches his destination safely."

"This is madness. He's clearly some sort of spy; and, if not, he's still up to no good. We would only further incriminate ourselves if we help him."

"Nothing's set in stone yet, Hash," Minlas assured him, though his expression had hardened as he watched the horizon. "We'll see what happens when we hit Auridon. Until then, let's just enjoy the peace and quiet."

Hashik opened his mouth to protest, but hesitated. The manner in which his captain's jaw was clenched, how his eyes were fixed on the island underneath a lowered brow, told him that his comments would fall on deaf ears. Instead, he looked at Uvus, who stood with tensed shoulders and his arms folded behind his back, staring quietly over the sea, and he scowled.

Altmer were known for their luxurious sense of self, so it was no surprise that Vulkhel Guard – a small yet important port-town – was adorned in their signature style. Even the blandest and most basic of buildings were refined, with curved gables, majestic white and grey stones and sky-blue rooftops, as if prepared at any moment to welcome nobles and royal families. The pier itself was loaded with crates of silk and fine wine.

The stares he received were expected, but Uvus remained close to the crew as he disembarked the Water-Thorn. Perfume appeared to linger in the air, for even though he smelt the ocean, there was an almost overwhelming scent of flowers and fresh spices, and his mind flashed to an image of Indriks frolicking amongst dragonthorn and blessed thistles.

"Isn't Vulkhel Guard beautiful, Uvus?" commented Valmcelmo beside him. His tone was wistful, and he looked upon the port with dreamy eyes. "Whenever I come here, I always feel a touch homesick. I imagine you must have felt the same when you travelled through Morrowind."

"Yes, well – there's nowhere quite like my homeland," the mer said. Before his companion could respond, he turned towards Minlas and offered him a solemn but grateful nod. "I thank you, Captain, for the use of your ship. This has been a pleasant journey. Your crew was very accommodating of my needs."

"It was no trouble, Uvus. In fact, I'd like us to speak before we head off again. I've a proposition for you."

"A proposition?" His head tilted to the side, and his eyes narrowed imperceptibly.

"Best to talk about it once we've found some rooms for the night," the Bosmer replied. He waved over in the direction of the town, which bustled with labourers in patched clothes and tall, fair-skinned High Elves. Uvus thought how lurid their complexion was compared to his, and imagined distantly the time in which the Chimer and Altmer lived side-by-side, not yet two distinct races. That was eons before; so long ago that it almost felt a myth.

Rolling his shoulders, the mer nodded and forced a polite smile underneath his mask. "Of course, Captain. I can postpone my research to discuss it with you, I suppose. But not for long. I am already delayed."

He did not pause for a response. Instead, Uvus climbed once more onto the ship, to collect his research and what few personal items he had brought with him. The crew watched in silence until he had receded from their sight. Then Farane turned to her brother with a perplexed expression, her mouth set in a hard line and her eyebrow raised.

"This is news to me," she said. "What's this proposal, then, Min?"

Before her brother could reply, Hashik turned from them and towards the pier proper, a snort of derision escaping his lips. His reaction surprised the crew, as well as how Minlas rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"What is it, my friends?" asked Zahrahna, rubbing her clawed hands together. Her whiskers twitched anxiously, for arguments were not common in their small band. Debates, yes, even disagreements, but otherwise their views and values were aligned.

"Uvus paid a lot of coin for a boat ride," Minlas explained, "and after some thought, I don't think it's fair to swindle him like that. I think we should offer to escort him to these ruins he wants to explore."

"Yes!" Valmcelmo exclaimed. His friends' heads snapped towards him, and he added quickly, "Ancient ruins housing powerful magics? If we can convince him to let us escort him, perhaps we can convince him that he'll need our help."

Farane put her hands on her hips. "True," she acknowledged, her voice at once curious and hesitant, "and, I'll admit, I'd rather delve in a ruin right now than wait around for a new lead."

"Yes, yes – Zahrahna suspects those old walls hold valuable treasures," said the Khajiit with a nod. "She is certain the small master wouldn't mind, were we to take a few to sell. So long as we didn't interfere with his research, of course."

"Are you all mad?"

The sudden shout made them start, and the crew looked as Hashik all but charged towards them. His feet slammed against the docks so forcefully, Valmcelmo half-expected them to sway and buckle underneath him.

"He's paid us enough to perform whatever part we had in his schemes," the Redguard said. "Why must we entangle ourselves in them further? Tu'whacca's breath, it's clear he's up to something! Do you want to see the inside of Queen Ayrenn's personal dungeon?"

"Such harsh words, my friend!" Zahrahna rebuked him, but her captain held up his hand for her to calm herself. She fell silent, though her tail flicked in agitation.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," Minlas said. "I need to speak to him first, and there's no guarantee he'll agree."

"Still, it's all quite exciting, isn't it?"

His words were meant as a hopeful comfort, and the captain could not rebuff Valmcelmo as he smiled at him. His features were light and optimistic, reminding him of time of their first adventures, before wariness and experience had set in and hardened his face.

"We'll see what comes of it," he replied. "First, though, we have some coin. Instead of bedding down on the ship, let's find us a nice inn somewhere in town. Mara's Kiss, maybe. A real mattress would be a nice change of pace."

There were Dunmer at the inn.

Uvus had spotted them from afar, clustered around a small table in the corner of the room. Mara's Kiss was more refined than the Wharf-Rat, for conversation was a hushed hum that did not breach the marble walls, and the bard's soft lute strums were met with a barely-there contentment. The drinks were served in chalices that shone under the candlelight. But he would take more noise, more clattering mugs and thick woodsmoke, if it meant the mer could hide himself from Dark Elves.

As he came to the centre of the room and found himself an empty table, Uvus felt eyes upon him. He had mentioned his 'albinism' quietly to the innkeeper, and outfitted her with enough coin that she could perhaps appoint another in her place for a short trip to her homeland, but he knew it only a matter of time before the whispers started. He would need to move on soon. If not for Minlas' proposal, he would not have even stopped over for the night.

From his periphery, he saw the Dunmer glance towards him. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end, and he forced his muscles not to freeze as he reached over to reposition the brass candleholder before him. Of course, he realised it was his outfit that attracted attention; but if there was even a chance those elves would discern who he truly was, he would not tempt fate.

"Uvus," a voice came. He turned his head to see the captain approach, and Minlas smiled that warm smile he had come to associate with him. Weaving through the tables, he soon came to rest in the chair opposite his friend, twin chalices of wine clutched in his hands.

"Captain," he welcomed. "I hadn't expected you to buy me a drink. Thank you." He took it from him and sipped, resisting the urge to wrinkle his nose. "That's certainly a unique taste."

"High Elven wine," Minlas informed him, "which I can't drink. Green Pact prohibits it. This is jagga – expensive outside of Valenwood."

"Yes, I would have thought so," he nodded. "But before we're side-tracked, Captain, I'd like to hear this proposal. The staring is…uncomfortable."

Uvus had unconsciously glanced over to the Dunmer at that moment; a fleeting look that would have slipped his companion's notice, had his eyes been elsewhere. Perhaps it was his imagination, but the Bosmer thought he saw a flash of fear in those golden depths. With a swig of his drink, he set the chalice down before him and smiled.

"This shouldn't take too long," he assured. "About these ruins you're looking for…"

The rooms of Mara's Kiss were small for an inn, but decorated with the same finery as one might find in a palace. In Farane and Zahrahna's chambers, which were located on a newly-built first floor, the beds' sheets were soft and warm and coloured a dark emerald, with curtains heavy enough to keep out even the strongest sunlight. Potpourri had been placed on the chest of drawers, filling the room with the scent of jasmine and lava blooms. Farane wondered absent-mindedly if enjoying the smell meant she was teetering on breaking the Green Pact.

But for all its comforts, it was the boy's room that had the hearth, and so the pair waited there while Minlas attended his meeting. It was larger than theirs on account of the beds – one single and a bunk, the top of which Hashik sat on – but the curtains were thinner, outfitted with a wardrobe and a regal desk beside the fire. It was here that Valmcelmo sat as Zahrahna lounged on the rug before the flames and Farane the bottom bunk, his hands clutched around a book with a purple cover and gold fringing. As she laid, the Bosmer noticed how closely he held it to his face, and her brow furrowed at the title.

The Tribunal: An Analysis of our Gods.

"Valm," she asked. He jumped as if he had forgotten the trio were there. "Where did you get that book from?"

"There are Dunmer in the room next door," he explained, returning his attention to the page. "I asked if they had any texts on the Tribunal. If we end up escorting Uvus to these ruins, I thought he might appreciate at least one of us being a bit more well-versed in his faith."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm sure he's not too concerned about it, Valm. He's never much talked about Morrowind."

"That doesn't mean he's not homesick," the wizard pointed out.

"Are you certain that it's not an excuse to speak more to the little master, friend?" asked Zahrahna, stretching out before the heat of the fire with an almost mischievous smile. He frowned and waved her question away.

"Nonsense," he all but tutted, "I'm merely being considerate. I did the same when Hashik joined us."

"Not to this extent. I warn you, friend; this Uvus isn't one you want to know more about. I feel it in my bones." The Redguard's voice was dour, his forearm thrown across his eyes as though he had meant to sleep but failed to. He could not see the irritation that crossed Valmcelmo's face, but when he replied he forced all of it out of his tone.

"Regardless, I'm a mage, so I should seek out knowledge no matter the topic," he stated. Licking his thumb, he turned another page and scanned the words that were scrawled before him. "This stuff is fascinating, though."

"Prayers and temples – it's always the same."

There was a pause, filled with the sound of rustling paper as Valmcelmo searched for evidence to the contrary. He stilled near the hundredth page. His eyes raced back and forth, accompanied with an arched brow and a troubled, hard-set frown. He leaned forward, and the women took notice of the sudden change of his mood.

"Listen to this," he told them. "'Of all Sotha Sil's grand creations, it is perhaps his son who remains his most obscure yet. Though the subject of Lord Vivec's Thirty-Eighth Sermon, much of what is known about Sotha Aem'uvus (otherwise known as He Who Came After and the Resplendent Harken of Veloth) is based on rumour alone, originating mostly from his brief visit to Vivec City as a child.

"It is said that Sotha Aem'uvus is a Chimer – thus the 'Resplendent Harken' of our most honoured saint – and surpasses even fair Lady Almalexia in his beauty. Many are told to be rendered entirely speechless on their first encounter with him. At the time of his visit, citizens who were present claimed that Lord Vivec showed him the entirety of his Holy city and dozens of his subjects, to which he appeared insatiably curious. From all mundane aspects of life, such as clothes and the weather, Lord Uvus is told to have asked a barrage of questions and left with yet a thousand more still on his tongue. I speculate that this is not unusual, as of course the divine child has been raised (presumably) in his father's own Clockwork City; that secret realm rumoured to have world-shaping capabilities. I don't doubt that Sotha Sil has more important topics to teach his son than the etiquette of Dunmeri dinner parties.

"It's my hope that, in time, the Son of Seht will play a more prominent role in the Tribunal, be known to us, and become – as Vivec writes – the Four of the Three-In-One.'"

"Huh," said Farane, her face perplexed. "Lord Uvus. That's an odd coincidence, isn't it?"

Hashik, who had come to rest on his elbow so he could peer over the edge of his bed, had a face cast in iron. "Seems too much to be a coincidence, no?"

"This one must agree with our friend," said Zahrahna, to which the Bosmer shook her head.

"No, no," she reasoned, "it can't be. That passage said he's in some place called 'Clockwork City'. Besides, our Uvus is a Dunmer."

"Is he?" asked Hashik. "We have never seen his face, and what we have seen is light – not the skin of a Dark Elf."

"He has albinism, right? That explains it," she looked at Valmcelmo, "doesn't it, Valm?"

He paused. All eyes fell upon him, and he was reminded quickly that he spoke with a certain authority in the crew. The wizard set the book down on the desk, the cover shut, blinking slowly as he tried to collect his thoughts.

"There's evidence for it," he admitted, his voice hesitant, "but it's far too much to suggest that he's divine. Powerful, yes, but divine? It's madness to even consider it."

"Is it? He covers his face, is funded by the temple itself, and speaks little of his parents."

"Yes, and he claimed to have grown up beside the gods themselves," said Zahrahna. Valmcelmo appeared shell-shocked for a moment, before he recovered his wits enough to straighten his shoulders and raise his determined head.

"Well," he announced, "this is all just ridiculous. He's a mage. I'm sure he would find it supremely amusing that we'd even consider the idea he's divine."

"My friend—" Hashik made to speak, but the High Elf interrupted him.

"All this evidence is—it's circumstantial." He wished his voice sounded more convincing, and that their faces did not wrinkle at his tone. "Enough. We aren't children. For all we know, Uvus' parents named him after this little godling. Yes. I'm sure that's what happened."

He shook his head and thrust the book to the side.

"Enough of this. Farane, do you still have those cards from Elden Root? Let's have a game and forget this whole business."

But even as she retrieved the deck and Valmcelmo came to join them, his uncertainty left a lingering atmosphere in the room.