The days bled into weeks as Ellyria spent her time at the Dragonguard sanctuary in Pelletine. Despite knowing Sai Sahan from her days of studying necromancy under Mannimarco and then again when killing him, she preferred to keep to herself once they had established a wary peace with Nahfahlaar. The dragon quickly became her favorite being to speak with. Intelligent and peaceful, he was different from the rest of the dragons she'd had the displeasure of meeting. And when he spoke to her with respect, it soothed the scuff on her soul put there by the scorn of Mulaamnir and Kaalgrontiid. Her dragon's soul preened with pleasure as she formed a kinship with him. This dragon, and only this dragon, she would spare in her purge. Even so, she did not divest her status of Dragonborn to any of the newly formed Guard. The only truth she had learned from Orland was that they knew nothing of her purpose, and she had no reason to tell them of the purpose she'd made for herself. Her hands and mind were kept busy, far too busy to dwell on the growing pile of unopened letters from those she'd left behind in Auridon. Instead of thinking, she trained her body with Sai Sahan. Just as her children were quick studies, so was she.

"Abnur Tharn has sent word about a threat to Southern Elsweyr. His letter indicates that you and he have worked together recently. He thinks very highly of you." Sai Sahan ignored the quiet scoff that escaped her throat. "Someday you must tell me how you accomplished that."

A nasty snarl of "you don't really want to know" died on her lips before it could emerge. With a clenched jaw, Ellyria nodded for him to continue.

"The old snake says we have important business to discuss, and he's bringing a friend. He didn't elaborate on either topic." A man like Sai Sahan didn't know hesitance, so when his words didn't fall from his mouth easily, the hair on Ellyria's arms stood on end. "Between Tharn's cryptic letter and Nahfahlaar's strange mood, I'm feeling uneasy myself."

"Go, ready the sanctuary for Abnur's arrival," Ellyria said. Her distaste would remain internal, ready to fade away the moment she saw the man in question, just as it always did. Clenching her fists, her teeth ground together. No. This time, things would be different. "There's no doubt that the friend he speaks of is Queen Khamira of Anequina. I will speak with Nahfahlaar before I join you inside."

Sai Sahan passed her in the doorway without another word, leaving Ellyria and Nahfahlaar in the courtyard alone. Her mind was spinning in place, unable to get past the thought of seeing Abnur again. The phantom brush of his thumbs wiping at the tears on her face made her skin flush with anger. How dare he treat her so softly? How dare he treat her with kindness, with respect and adoration? Even when it should fall short with insincerity, even as he betrayed her trust and her heart, she crumbled into him each time. The past stung beneath her skin, ripping into her insides.

"Come, little dragon – let us speak," Nahfahlaar called, lowering his massive head to be level with her. Ellyria pushed her fingers into her eyes, relishing in the dull ache that would distract her. "I sense a darkness, perhaps an absence of light. It sets my scales on edge."

"Is your feeling related to the letter Sai Sahan received?" she questioned carefully, tiredly. "Or is there more that is to come?"

"My feeling is my own, little dragon. It grew from a tickle behind my broken horn when the fool of a battlemage opened the Halls of Colossus." A sliver of guilt crept up from her stomach. She'd had a hand in that, too. Nahfahlaar was too quick to name her blameless. "Now it swirls like a black storm around me. Quite unpleasant."

Ellyria felt the prickle on her skin barely a second before the distinct scent of portal magic filled her nose. She and Nahfahlaar turned in tandem to see Abnur Tharn, in all his glory, step through the portal with Khamira at his heels. Her voice was a groan as she complained loudly about the headache that thrummed in her head. Ellyria knew the feeling, though it was not from portal magic. It was Sai Sahan that saved her from having to speak with them first.

"Abnur Tharn, you arrogant, vexatious, son of a bleary-eyed –" A smile pulled at Ellyria's lips, for once at Abnur's expense.

"Save your posturing, Sai, I've missed you too. But we have a bigger problem to deal with," Abnur interrupted. The tone in his voice was one she'd not heard often before, even with the fate of Nirn slipping between their fingers. "I've found Kaalgrontiid and pieced together his ultimate plan."

With grinding teeth and clenched fists, hate swelled in Ellyria's stomach. The dragon fire lit her insides on fire at the mention of Kaalgrontiid. He could fancy himself a god, maybe, but he wouldn't be the first god for her to send to his knees. The anticipation would kill her quicker than he would.

"Easy, little dragon," Nahfahlaar purred lowly behind her. "Four have fallen to your sword – do not fall on it yourself when the end is so near."

A deep breath in, a deep breath out – she didn't know why she ever thought that would help. There was no fear in her blood, only the desperate need to prove herself as worthy to those that had dismissed her. Even at the cost of her own life. The thought spurred to life a warm arm around her shoulders and the soft fur of a tail wound around her ankle. It brought the soft, young faces of Sarelia and Adrian to her mind. Her mother's frown and Navarre's quiet support were burning as she thought of them for the first time in days. This could be her end, the end, should she fail to slaughter the strongest of her brothers. She would not fail, for herself and for her children and for Razum-dar and Evelyn and Abnur and Nirn. It was fighting Molag Bal all over again, she realized later. And one god was just like all the others – infallible until they weren't, infallible until they met her sword. She would be the god-killer of the ages, ready to meet destiny with the sharp end of her sword instead of crumbling to it like a coward. Destiny would bow to her.

With dragon blood in her veins and steel in her bones, Ellyria did her best to cast all other things from her mind to focus on the task at hand.


In all the ways she had seen Abnur, weak was not one of them. Another to add to the list, she supposed silently. It was with worry that she grabbed his bicep. He had been sturdy despite his faults and age for the past thirteen years. Seeing him with the labored breath and sweaty brow of an old man was never a way that she had imagined him. Being an old man was never something that would happen to Abnur Tharn, Grand Chancellor and Great Imperial Battlemage, Overlord of Nibenay and all the other titles he'd scrounged up for himself.

"Stay behind me and be silent," she murmured, careful not to look him in the eye. If she looked him in the eye, each piece of her that cared for him would bubble up to the surface. "You're in no condition to fight."

Her heart stuttered when he didn't deny it. Why wouldn't he deny it? Where was his masquerade, his arrogance? Why was his gloved hand pressing gently over her own? Swallowing past the lump in her throat, Ellyria brushed past him to continue into the Dragonhold ruins. Bodies dropped in her wake as the ceiling shook above them and the ground rattled beneath them. A silent hush warred with the thrum of power brewing around them. It wasn't until they discovered the ritual sights that she felt her own power spark to life beneath her flesh.

"Go, I will follow!"

Lightning crackled at her fingertips, releasing with loud screeches as she slid to her knees beneath a battle axe. Wisps of dark hair floated to the ground in her wake. The Khajiit axe wielder followed up with another wild swing as his fellow cultists dropped dead around him. Clangs echoed through the room when their weapons connected again and again. The instinct of the dragon left her body scrambling to keep up as the fight turned into a vicious dance to the death. Then, she was doused in a spray of blood. His pulse covered her once, twice, three times before his knees hit the stone floor and he was dead. Abnur followed moments later drawing power from the humming green stones.

"Are you sure that's safe?" she asked, chest heaving with the effort of breathing. The dragon kept her young, but it did not keep her from being winded. She felt alive knowing death's axe had trimmed her hair and nearly her head only minutes before. Life and fear and the rush of nearly dying thrummed in her veins.

"I'm sure that I'll regret it later," he responded dryly.

A delirious sort of laugh escaped. Her hair was a wild mess of blood and bits of flesh, and her skin was seared in some places from the magic flung in her direction. She knew she looked a mess, but it didn't matter. She was her, and he was him, and here they were again, exploring derelict ruins to stop the end of the world.

"Let's go, we'll regret it all when we get to the bottom of a few bottles of whiskey after this."

It was only a short while later that she would catch his weakened body before it hit the ground. Savagely wounded, Joorahmaar flung himself into the sky to escape them even as Abnur could no longer stand. With trembling fingers, Ellyria lowered Abnur into a sitting position on the stone floor. They didn't stop the ritual in time, she realized bleakly, and those bottles of whiskey would have to wait. The ground was trembling in earnest now, rattling around them as dust peppered their hair. Stone grinding against stone filled her ears. The walls would come down on top of them. Abnur's strength waned as he dropped the island's defense. Ellyria kept him at her back and Joorahmaar at her front, keeping his attention centered on her. His dragon fire washed over her, leaving no burns. The souls scorching within her protected their flesh prison, lending her the magic that once flowed in their own vessels. Violence tore from her voice and lined the edge of her sword until he was falling, crashing, unnaturally still. When his soul peeled back the flesh of his body and turned it to dust around his bones, Ellyria was ready, on her knees before him with arms lifted toward Akatosh. She was the favored child, and she would take the power these little morsels could give. An incredible hush fell around her, blanketing all noise in her ears as she was again filled with life at another death. Drunk on it, she nearly missed Abnur's yell and Kaalgrontiid's thundering laugh.

"You think you are a dragon child, but you are mistaken! You may have the soul of a dragon but I will be a god!" Kaalgrontiid's wings spread open in a show of intimidation, not faltering even when her burning eyes glared into him.

"You won't be the first god I've bested, Kaalgrontiid, and I'm sure you will not be the last!"

Abnur's call of her name snapped her from her haze of destructive provocation. He was on the ground, looking every bit the feeble old man of 167 years. Her heart shattered to pieces in her chest, but the feeling was dulled against the rush of rage that followed Kaalgrontiid's position in the sky.

"Come on," Ellyria snapped as she dragged him to his feet. His height made it difficult to support his weight, but she managed to mostly drag him as they moved as quickly as possible. "Don't give out on me, Abnur – I can't let Kaalgrontiid kill us both."

They lurched to a stop when his arm jerked away from her supportive shoulders. He stumbled but didn't fall. Fingers curled around her bicep with purpose as his other hand began to spark with magic.

"You will not die here," he demanded sharply. "Go through this portal, gather the Dragongaurd and Khamira. I will be ready when you return."

"I won't leave you." Ellyria planted her feet, unwilling to move even as the ceilings began to drop dust and stones all around them.

"Yes, you will, or we'll both die, and all will be lost." His hand left her arm to brush against her face. Ever so gently, his thumb caressed her cheekbone. "Go, quickly. Don't keep me waiting."

Her heart was racing as she slipped through the portal. She knew that Abnur had no plans on leaving Dragonhold alive. She would just have to drag him living and breathing from the ruins herself. Khamira met her halfway down the stairs, clawed hands reaching out to catch her when she stumbled. They stood close, at ease with the closeness of one another in the face of certain death. They had faced it side-by-side more than once. Ellyria hoped that the third time would be the charm, and they could meet as friends instead of allies.

"How did the Dragon's Island get into the sky? And where is Tharn? Five-claw, tell me what is happening," Khamira demanded, looking past her and into the sky with wide eyes.

Ellyria thought she would choke on the words, but still, she forced them out. Turning her own gaze on the floating island, panic began to race beneath her skin. She left him there. What kind of savior of Nirn was she if she couldn't even save one man? Shaking her head, she tried to force her thoughts out of darkness. There was no time for the Dragonborn to second guess herself. Akatosh would guide her, surely, if she was his favored child, if she was really his sacrifice.

"Kaalgrontiid is trying to become a god. The island is part of his plan to ascend as the Dark Aeon." Her hesitation cast both Khamira and Sai Sahan's eyes on her. "Abnur is still there. He cast a portal to get me here, to get help, but he… he was weak."

Khamira knew the pain in her heart. Ellyria could feel it in the way her clawed hand found a blood-covered shoulder. "He will be alright, Five-claw. I, too, do not want to imagine him alone on that island. We must hurry to gather our forces, and then will we find a way to the island. I fear time is running out for all of us, not just Abnur Tharn."

A shudder wracked her body, but Ellyria didn't hesitate to accompany them back to the Sanctum with haste.