His touch lingered on her cheek, his warmth seeping through his glove and pooling in her already flushed face.

"Mah naal zu'u," Miraak whispered. His other hand caressed her cheek in the same gentle manner, forcing her gaze to his hidden face.

"What?" she mumbled back; eyes closed, she leaned into his touch, stomach twisting in both fear and thrill.

"Mah."

Her eyes shot open just as the ground beneath them disintegrated and they fell. Telyra let out a short scream and reached for Miraak, panicked hands clinging to the billowing fabric of his robe; he wrapped his arms around her, holding tight against her back, but his breathing was calm, he was calm. Endless shadow surrounded them, and wind whipped past as they fell further and further, their bodies rolling as gravity tried to catch them.

Over the thunder of the wind hammering against her ears, Telyra heard a faint and familiar beating, and the world around them began to illuminate, the light flickering as if its sole source was a candle's flame. She turned toward the sound and squinted, catching a pale blue glimmer that grew larger as it flew toward them; with each passing moment of their falling, the cerulean speck became more dragon-like in shape.

"Sahrotaar!" Telyra cried out.

The pounding of his wings was deafening by the time he'd reached them and dove beneath their falling bodies. They landed on the saddle, limbs tangled and sore from the impact, and it took little time for Miraak to right himself and aid Telyra in doing the same, falling into their routine of Miraak holding her steady on the dragon's back.

Still little light to see by, Telyra could only make out shadowed shapes as they flew into the unknown; buildings, perhaps, towers… columns? Were they in Apocrypha? she wondered.

Sahrotaar continued on, and a harsh chill settled in the air as light suddenly poured in, blinding her. She rubbed away the pain in her eyes and blinked as they adjusted. They were in the mountains; Sahrotaar took to drifting around each peak, and at every turn, the cold intensified, biting at her skin.

Arms settled around her torso, tight and safe, and in an instant, the frigid air was warm and comforting.

"You may lead him from here," Miraak said, his chest vibrating against her back. "You need not stay in the cold."

Reaching out, she grasped the reins and directed the dragon straight on, away from the mountain range. The land below, now without the snow melding it into a single image of white, became familiar.

"That's Bleak Falls Barrow," she shouted to Miraak, pointing to the Nordic ruins. With a smile, she added, "We're almost to Rorikstead."

Sahrotaar suddenly jerked upward, something massive and dark colliding into his lithe form, sending Telyra out of Miraak's grip and into the air.

"Telyra!" Miraak's voice quickly faded as she plummeted toward the ground.

Her mind frantically sought a solution: a spell, a Shout, anything, nothing. Her hands wouldn't move, her mouth wouldn't open, her Voice was caught tight in her throat. Her body flipped, and she watched helplessly as the ground grew closer. Too close. Sahrotaar couldn't save her. Miraak couldn't reach her. Another moment, and she would be naught but a gory puddle. She closed her eyes.

Nothing.

She expected pain, at least at first. It would've been a quick death, she assumed, from such a high fall. But she felt nothing.

Slowly, Telyra opened her eyes and found herself standing beneath the hanging sign of Frostfruit, Erik's father's tavern. With a glance at the door, she saw Erik standing there, holding it open and tapping his foot.

"Are you coming in or not?" he asked.

"Close the damn door!" she heard Mralki shout from inside.

"But I-" She looked up at the sky she'd just fallen from. "How did I get here? Where's Sahrotaar?" She looked back at Erik. "Where's Miraak?"

He opened his mouth to answer, but an ear-shattering roar interrupted his words. It was the same roar she'd heard at Helgen while on the executioner's block.

Telyra whipped back around; a monstrous black dragon flew toward them, its blood-red eyes boring into hers. But it wasn't the eyes that held her gaze, nor the familiarity of the dragon itself: it was its rider. Green-robed, lackluster golden-masked, slightly smaller than expected, but perhaps that was due to the sheer size of the dragon.

"What are you doing!" Erik yelled behind her.

"What do you-?" She turned around, but Erik wasn't looking at her.

"Stop!" he shouted. His eyes were fixated on the dragon, wide and terrified, shined as if ready to spill tears.

She looked at the dragon's rider, at Miraak. Utterly confused, she simply stared, her stomach twisting and threatening to force its contents up her esophagus. The dragon opened its mouth; orange glowed between the scales on its chest, traveling up its neck and illuminating its throat. But again, Telyra's eyes were steadfast on Miraak.

His hands reached for his mask and pulled it from his hood; it slipped into the air, falling slowly as if trapped in time. A gray face with silver irises-someone she'd seen every time she stepped in front of a mirror-stared back at Telyra, burgundy hair spilled over the shoulders of the robe as the hood fell.

"Telyra," she heard Erik mumble. She dared a glance back and saw him staring at the rider. "Please."

Her focus returned forward, and the dragon Shouted, "YOL TOOR SHUL!"

This hadn't been the first time a burst of fire had been hurled at her, yet nothing in her body seemed to know how to react. There was no fight or flight instinct. It was as if her very being had been paralyzed; thoughts, emotions, limbs.

The light was blinding, the heat just as severe. And she simply watched as it collided into her.

Just as the fire burst around her, she bolted upright and screamed, her Voice bouncing off the walls of books, their pages rustling and threatening to collapse around them. Her lungs emptied, her Voice silenced, and her breathing came in rapid spurts, heart attempting to push out of her chest and escape the terror beating through her. She jerked her hands down her limbs, checking for any burns, any sign of the injury she surely suffered, despite there being no pain.

Her movements were suddenly halted, her wrists held in a firm grip. She glanced up to find Miraak kneeling beside her, reaching to keep her in place.

"Stiildus hinmaar," he said, voice low and steady. "It was merely a dream."

She didn't hear him-not that she understood half of what he'd said anyway-the image of him atop Alduin, or rather, herself dressed in his robes, returned to the forefront of her mind, and her stomach lurched. Unable to keep the scene from replaying in her mind, her gaze fell to her lap.

His hands slid from her wrists and traveled up to her shoulders; he squeezed softly and turned her toward him, prompting her to return her eyes to him.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

The question was far too simple for what she felt. To watch him morph into her, and then to watch herself guide Alduin to attack the inn, to attack Erik and herself, to hear Erik's soft plea. She squeezed her eyes shut, attempting to will away the pricking behind her eyelids.

"What does 'mah' mean?" she asked, silently cursing the tear she felt running down her cheek.

"'Fall,'" he replied softly.

One of his hands pulled from her shoulder, and his thumb brushed away her stray tear. Before it could fall from her face, she reached up and pressed her hand against his, forcing him to caress her as he had in her dream. She sought comfort, something warm and strong, and despite this being a mirror of the beginning of her nightmare, she couldn't deny the calming familiarity it offered.

He stiffened at the gesture but didn't pull away, rather he allowed his hand to conform to her cheek. His other moved from her shoulder and settled over hers which sat her lap.

"It was merely a nightmare, Telyra," he repeated in the same calming tone.

She nodded before opening her eyes to look at him. "You actually called me by my name," she remarked, smiling against his hand.

With an exasperated sigh, Miraak pulled away and straightened into a stance.

Immediately, she missed his warmth and found Apocrypha suddenly cold. Glancing down, she noticed a blanket had been draped over her. "When did I even fall asleep?" she muttered, the panic of her dream quickly fading.

"I believe it has been a couple of hours," he replied. "You fell asleep while reading."

"Well, obviously," she retorted. She sat up and let the blanket pool in her lap. With a smile, she added, "All either of us do here is read."

Miraak took the now-vacant seat beside her. "We have been reading for a reason," he reminded her.

"I know," she replied. "We're still trying to figure out how the Tree stone could act as a sigil stone, and that requires research, but…" She turned her body to face him, tucking one leg beneath her while the other rested on the ground. "I blame my nightmare on being cooped up in here for too long," she began.

"You return to Solstheim each time," he muttered. "What do you suggest then?"

"You can now travel to Solstheim," she said, recalling the numerous times he arrived to steal her souls, not to mention their battle. "Physically even."

"For a short time."

"Better than nothing." She pushed herself up off the sofa. "I could use some fresh air the next time we meet, or as fresh as air gets in Solstheim."

He watched her for a moment before sighing and joining her in standing. "Fine," he said. "But I would recommend somewhere remote and that you not join me in my temple. It is where I manifest on Nirn, and my remaining followers still reside within its walls."

"You can't just tell them to leave me be?"

"I can, but some of them do live within the boundaries of Raven Rock," he explained. "Gossip is likely, and I doubt you wish to sow doubt among those who trust your intent is to defeat me."

Telyra opened her mouth but found she had no valid argument. "All right. Where's a good spot to meet then?"

"The Water Stone."

Erik disliked the idea of her meeting Miraak while both in their physical forms, but Telyra managed to talk him down and eventually accept that this was what was happening. It took even more convincing to keep him at the inn rather than go with her, but the tension Erik's unease caused was not something she was willing to deal with when the point of this meeting was to research in peace.

The Water Stone wasn't far from Raven Rock, but far enough that no one should happen upon them; better still, it was on one of the coasts, and she loved being near the water, even if the beach was more ash than sand.

Miraak made it there before she had, sitting cross-legged in the ash, unmoving besides the slow rise and fall of his shoulders. He remained still as she dropped her pack just a few feet behind him.

"I wasn't expecting you to be here already," she remarked.

"It was not as if I had anything more to do," he retorted, glancing over as she stood beside him.

A bag similar to her own rested at his feet, and given the sharp edges protruding, she assumed it held several books. She scowled at the thought of more reading.

"I was thinking," she began, gently kicking the underside of his closest boot, "no reading today."

He tilted his head, ignoring her foot. "Then what is the point of our being out here?"

"Because you're right in that I get to leave Apocrypha whenever I want," she explained. "And you could too, in a sense, but I don't think you do. And I was thinking during the past few days that maybe your stuffiness was rubbing off on me." Telyra smiled and kicked his boot again.

"So, this is for both our benefits," he said, swatting at her foot, "to relieve me of my so-called 'stuffiness' to ensure you suffer from no further nightmares."

"Exactly."

A sigh was his only response as he pushed himself to his feet. He looked down at his books and sighed again. "There was effort exerted in selecting these books."

"It's not like we won't ever read again," she replied.

"What is it you would like to do instead?" he asked, returning his glance to her.

"We could go for a dip," she suggested, gesturing toward the water and chuckling.

"No." He crossed his arms over his chest.

"Figured that was going to be your answer," she said with an eye roll. "How about we spar?"

"Spar?"

"You know, pretend fighting."

"I know what it is," he said curtly. "My question was more a surprise at the suggestion."

She shrugged. "It's been some time since I fought anything. I don't like to get rusty." She kept quiet that she'd been feeling antsy since the nightmare, the feeling of being paralyzed still resonated in her limbs.

"I suppose this is not a horrible idea," he said after a few moments' thought. "I have not expended my magic offensively much since our skirmish."

"'Skirmish,'" she repeated with an eye roll. "Magic only, because… I said so. And we should probably avoid Shouting. I would hate for someone to come nosing around. I'd be forced to kill you to save face. Can't have the locals thinking I actually like you." Her cheeks burned suddenly, realizing what she'd said. "Pity you, I mean."

He didn't acknowledge her misspeaking. "You could not do so before," he reminded her. "I doubt you could now."

"Maybe one day we'll find out," she teased. She grabbed the two packs and tossed them further up the beach and out of harm's way. "You ready?"

Miraak had already backed up a good distance. "Are you?"

As she rolled her eyes, she pulled her hand back, conjuring a bolt of fire and throwing it directly at Miraak. He batted it away as if it was nothing, doing the same when she repeated the act with her other hand.

"I was expecting a great deal more," he remarked.

"You already know I can do more," she scoffed. "You're supposed to warm up first. I figured they would've taught you that in whatever training you had."

"Of course, but what is the saying?" As he spoke, he lifted his arms to the side and lifted two piles of ash and sand into the air, solidifying them before sending them hurling toward her. "'Go big or go home,' I believe."

She let out a laugh of disbelief before encasing herself in a shimmering blue sphere. The rocks crashed against it, falling back into small grains and falling around her. "If that's how we're doing this…"

Her hands worked to create a large ball of flame, but just as she moved to cast it, Miraak covered the ground beneath her in a thick layer of ice. Feet slipping and sending her backward, she released the spell and sent it rolling higher than expected, on course to miss Miraak entirely; as she landed on her backside, she clenched her fist and forced the fire to explode before it could pass by him.

The fire licked at his back, the explosion something he apparently hadn't expected as he made no move to defend himself. He cried out, either in surprise or pain.

She took the opportunity of his being distracted to melt the ice under her and return to her feet. While he batted out the fire caught on his robe, she sent another fireball hurling toward him.

It collided against the ward he managed at the last moment, letting out a thunderous boom as it burned the air and ground around him.

"You seem to prefer fire," he commented as he unleashed an angry burst of lightning.

The ground beneath her dried as the wet particles whipped away at the flick of her hand while the other connected with his lightning and redirected it back at him with as much intensity.

He cast another ward, and it crackled like shattering glass as the lightning struck.

"That is a useful maneuver," he remarked, his tone suggesting admiration.

"I don't get to use it often."

They fell into a routine of attack and deflect, Miraak often blocking and Telyra redirecting. Bloodied and bruised and out of breath, they continued. Both seemed on equal footing, occasionally landing a painful attack on the other, and with each spell cast, their aggression increased.

Telyra wiped her cheek with the back of her hand, leaving a long red streak. Miraak's mask and robes did much to hide his wounds, but his movements showed he was in no better shape.

He coughed a few times, and with that short moment of an opening, Telyra reached out with the remaining bit of her magicka and pulled at the sand beneath his feet, piling it up around him as his body sunk into the ground. His arms became lodged between his sides and the ground, rendering him motionless.

When his struggling did nothing to unwedge him, she strode up to him and smirked. "I think I win," she said in between her heavy breathing. She knelt down and poked the forehead of his mask. "That was fun."

"I am not done," he spat as he continued wriggling.

"It sure looks like it."

"FEIM ZII GRON!"

Miraak's body became specter-like, a transparent blue with swirling whorls of light.

"We agreed, no Shouts," Telyra said, crossing her arms. "And you're still stuck."

"WULD-"

"Oh, shit."

"NAH KEST!"

His body lurched forward, the previous Shout lasting just long enough to allow his body to burst through the sand with no damage done to his being. He wrapped his arms around her just as he re-solidified and sent them both toppling to the ground; straddling her hips, he pinned her wrists down on either side of her head.

"I believe I win," he said.

She twisted and bucked beneath him, but he was too heavy without her managing some sort of leverage. "You cheated," she hissed.

He laughed, more jovial than she'd heard before, but it was cut short when she bent her hand and sent a small jolt of lightning into the sliver of skin showing between his mask and his robe. A faint yelp escaped him, and at her resulting laughter, he squeezed her wrists tighter for a moment before his body stilled entirely.

Telyra quieted, noticing the sudden lack of movement. She watched as his head looked down where his hips rested on hers, as if suddenly wise to the position he put them in. Her gaze followed his, stomach fluttering as she became aware of the slight pain in her wrists and the way his weight settled on her; her breathing was still labored, but increasingly for a different reason than their sparring.

His hands released her and veered back as though she'd shocked him again; his body did the same, straightening his torso and raising his weight off her. When it appeared he'd froze again, unsure of what to do, she offered him pity and pulled herself out from beneath him. He pushed to his feet and extended a hand to her, a gesture she was now well-acquainted with from him after numerous dragon rides.

She took it and allowed him to hoist her up; they stood beside each other for several awkward and silent moments before he finally spoke.

"You are well-trained," he said, his words clipped.

"Thank you," she replied. "I, uh, I was trained at the College of Winterhold. They've got some great professors." Telyra shifted on her feet.

"How did you force that fire to explode prematurely?" he asked. "The attack toward the beginning of our spar."

"Like this?" She raised her hand and attempted to cast another fireball, but she merely released a puff of smoke. "Ah, that's right. I'm… I'm exhausted." She tried again as if expecting a different result but merely shrugged when another wisp of smoke spilled from her palm. "It's something I was taught at the college. You cast Telekinesis just before casting Fireball, and as it's moving, you force Telekinesis to expand rapidly, and it causes the fire spell to act as if it's landed. So, it explodes like you'd expect it to when hitting a wall or something."

Miraak tilted his head. "I have never thought to try such a combination."

"Well, would you look at that," she said, her tone lilting. "I know something the ancient ex-dragon priest doesn't. Maybe one day I'll be kind enough to show you just how it's done."

He chuckled, his head moving toward the patch of disturbed sand they'd been lying on. "It would seem there is much you could teach me."