4E 201: The Dragonborn rises in Skyrim, saving the world from Alduin, and while the dragons roam free again it is predicted that this is the last Dragonborn.

4E 210: Emperor Titus Mede II is assassinated! Rumors are that the Dark Brotherhood has risen again in Skyrim. The empire is in chaos while the empire's council tries to find a successor.

4E 220: After a decade of turmoil, each race has brought a man of their own choosing to Cyrodiil to form a special council for the new Emperor and bring peace across the empire, the Argonians and Kajiit are absent.

4E 225: This is the year the Hist Trees stop communicating with the Argonians.

4E 241: the year that the empire attempted to invade Black Marsh once again…And the year that the Hist trees started to die…

You can't exactly take a cart through the Black Marsh. Even among other Argonian cities, there is very little trading, but Itan always insisted on traveling to sell his books and a few magical wares.

"Who needs a cart when you can summon a mistman?" He claimed as he gracefully walked through the knee-high waters. His young elven companion sloshed through it the best she could and looked to the mistman was behind them, looking a bit unsure of the grey-green waters.

When they crawled up on another island of land she checked all the books. None of them had touched the water.

"We're near Stormhold, Aphina, we should be there in a few hours."

"The mistman won't last that long." Aphina took the leather-bound books from the creature's hands before it could turn into a pile of ash. Itan sighed and summoned another one from the ashes of the previous one.

There was a small amount of sunlight that peaked through the densely packed trees and made his scales shine green and black. When Aphina stepped into the sunlight, she didn't shine like him. She had dull, squishy skin instead of shiny, hard scales, and her head was covered in thin, strands of silvery gold that he called "hair," something Argonians don't have. Her skin looked pink that turned red and angry if she stood in the sun for too long. She was envious that she was cursed to look differently from other Argonians, though she felt just as much as an Argonian as any other.

"Father, what am I again?" She asked as he curiously investigated a plant known to be poisonous, even to Argonians.

"Some form of elf, I think," he tore himself away from his investigations and walked next to her. "I think Altmer, or High Elf, in Imperial terms. I've only met a few before, none of them very friendly. They don't travel to Argonia and those that do never make it past Gideon. Why do you ask?" He absently played with the leather that hung at his neck. The pendant that hung came from a branch of the Hist Tree he drank the sap from, a memory of when he was young and in love.

"Because in the last city we were in, and the town before that, and the one before that…Everyone treats me like a disease here and I don't understand why. Is it because I don't have scales? And how do I go about getting them?"

Itan shook his head with a small chuckle. "Only the Hist tree can provide scales, but you do not need scales. No, they treat you differently because they do not understand, my little flower." As he spoke he picked a flower from the base of a tree and put it in her hair.

Aphina didn't remove it to look and see what kind of flower it was. From a quick glance it looked like either nightshade or darthbell, but it didn't feel heavy enough to be darthbell. "What don't they understand?"

Itan thought for a while before answering, "Some do not understand compassion for a young one belonging to a race that has killed hundreds of us. But it is not your fault their kin are dead. I have raised you, therefore you are one of us, therefore the Hist shall accept you when you die, and anyone who says to you differently is a fool and not fit to have your friendship or have you for a mate."

The trees soon cleared away to show the gates of Stormhold. Stormhold, compared to pictures of other major holds in her books about Tamriel, wasn't nearly as big or as fortified. It was made from mud and brick, and vines crawled from the bottom to the top. The stones would be slick from the humid air, and it gleamed from last night's rain. It was so close to Morrowind that on a very clear day you could see the wall that separated Argonia from the Empire they called Tamriel. Argonia had broken away from the crumbling empire long ago but every now and again, the Thalmor would come around and try to establish themselves, in another attempt to make Black Marsh apart of the empire again. Each time they were driven out. Perhaps, Aphina thought, my mother was a Thalmor and was forced to leave me, or even my father, or both! She didn't know, and neither did her father, Itan. The only thing they knew was that he found her, abandoned in a leaking basket in the marshlands, and he couldn't leave her to fend for herself.

Inside the gates, the city bustled with the kind of life only a city would have. The few traveling merchants that were there were selling their wares on colorful blankets, but nobody paid any mind to them. They were more interested in Itan and his stories of Tamriel when he left long before he found Aphina, rather than his books. Not many Argonians who came of age wanted to venture out into Tamriel anymore.

"We are treated out there as you are treated here," Itan had explained to her when she was six. "Some may as well be slaves on the ships they serve."

Itan spread out a brightly colored blanket on the ground and took the books from the mistman. She watched everyone as he set up. They were all curious ready to pounce him with their questions but as soon as they saw her they turned around and pretended not to notice but longingly looked back at the books. Aphina sighed. Every town, every settlement, every city they went to none of them would approach because of her, because she would hang around too much, and nobody here liked outsiders.

"Father," she kneeled as he created his own wall of books, "I think I'm going to explore the area a bit."

Father smiled brightly. "As the Imperials would say, Mara bless you, little flower."

She nodded sheepishly and quickly fled. He may believe the aedra would give her love, but she didn't. She didn't even wholly believe Mara existed in Black Marsh, nor did she seem to pay attention to people like her. Otherwise, maybe she'd find someone who wouldn't shun her so quickly.

As soon as Aphina rounded a corner she got a peek at the curious Argonians who gathered around her father and they encouraged him to tell tales about his travels outside of Black Marsh. The sight made her smile.

Itan was popular among the Argonians, both children and adults, and although many children claimed they would choose to visit Tamriel they would eventually be discouraged by either another invasion, or by their peers or family. Would Itan be married by now if Aphina wasn't around? She shook her head as if it could rid her of the thought.

Argonians, when they reach adulthood, are granted the choice to travel outside the Marsh but very little did and those that did didn't always come back. No one knew what happened to them, maybe they found a good life, but soon contact would cease and everyone had no choice but to trust that the Hist trees would protect them as well as us.

A group of Argonian boys took turns shooting a makeshift bow, which would have been useful if any of them could aim properly. Aphina could feel the heaviness of her own bow, wrapped around her chest, but she restrained from pulling it out and showing them how to properly shoot. She knew she could hit the bullseye if she wanted but she also knew, from an experience a few years ago, that they would grumble and walk away, and possibly jump her in the darkness if they felt bold enough. None would challenge her. They would only challenge her right to be a citizen of Argonia.

She pushed on, closer to the wall that bordered the city. Argonian children played in the streets and some even attempted to approach but were quickly herded away. In the middle of the city stood a Hist tree that she briefly stopped at, and she touched the rough trunk where the bark started to lift to show the grey bark underneath.

"What am I doing here?" Aphina asked it. "If I go and explore Tamriel…and the Summerset Isles…will father be okay?" She looked up at the amazing tree, it's flowers bloomed majestically, one came down and kissed her forehead, as if it knew she would come to this exact spot.

Aphina pulled away from the tree and continued to the wall.

A Stormhold guard pushed her out of the way, forcing her to collide with the ground. He didn't stop as an officer shouted at him. "Which way?"

"The North! From Morrowind!"

Curious at what they were looking at Aphina followed the next wave of guards, blending in with the back row until they made it up the stairs to the top. No one paid her any attention, as if she weren't different. Her body crashed against the wall's edge and coming from the horizon she could see a massive army! They glittered in golden armor.