A Singular Oblivion Crisis but Instead it's the Dragonborn's Assumed Problem

Chapter 1

The boat rocked as the men pulled it into the dock, a crew made up of Dunmer, Argonian, and Nord alike all working together to see that the boat did not jostle too harshly in shallow waters. It was a diverse crew, one that brought me pleasure to see, especially a crew from Windhelm, where proper integration stung at the more conservative Nordic families.

I breathed in, the cloth mask across my face doing it's best in keeping out the worst of the ash-filled air. Raven Rock had changed little since I had last been here, a few new faces working the expanded docks. The lives of mer were long, with most content to stay in one location for a good few decades before moving onto somewhere new, if ever.

Adril Arano stood proud on the docks, clad in fine, but simple clothes cut in a more obvious Dunmeri fashion than my first stop in Raven Rock. No doubt he was here to greet both me and my companion, though perhaps to leave more of a warning for the last time we were at Raven Rock we had left the colony a mess that First Councilor Morvayn still sent letters with sly complaints nestled in-between niceties.

"Councilor Arano," I greeted, taking his hand to step off the docks. He was considerably shorter than me, though it was hard to find someone who was taller than myself, unless they were Nords, Orcs, or Altmer. "It warms my heart to see you hale."

The Dunmer's face didn't waver from his unamused mask. "Lady Eruvarin. I was under the impression your visit would not be for another decade."

I tried not to wince, Teldryn's unamused snort from next to me did little to brighten the Councilor's mood, only causing the mer's brows to draw in closer to each other.

"I have some business with Master Neloth. I'm here on behalf of the College of Winterhold."

Arano sniffed. "As long as whatever experiments the two of you cook up do not harm Raven Rock…"

I gave him a polite smile. "There will be no issue, Councilor."

The Second Councilor took his leave, his stride as proud as ever as he disappeared behind the wall's of Raven Rock. I gave a sigh beneath the mask, the exhaled air warm against my face as I turned my head up to Morrowind's ever-gray sky. The Red Year was not kind to the subsequent decades following it.

"I was under the assumption you were here for other reasons." Teldryn says lowly, stepping off the boat and easily sidling up to me by my shoulder.

"We both know it is easier to tell the Councilor what he expects to hear than the truth, aure." I reply easily, leading the way into the town proper. It is much the same as it was from my last visit, though there were the new additions of small children running around the market. The ash didn't affect their lungs as it did mine however—the Dunmeri had adapted to the pollution of the air quite naturally—naturally about without facial covers.

It made my heart ache.

Teldryn's steady hand pushed me forward gently, a comforting presence in the turmoil of my own mind. "It wasn't your fault."

I say nothing to that, leading the both of us to the Retching Netch. Geldis would be a welcome face after all these years, if he still ran the inn. I didn't doubt he did. The stubborn Dunmer would expand his own lifespan if it allowed him the ability to run the place longer.

Pushing open the heavy doors, I was careful to wipe my shoes off onto the mat provided. Geldis had always been a stickler when it came to patrons tracking ash into his inn.

The entrance was still the same, the table Teldryn used to haunt being replaced by a stack of crates. There were new tapestries hung on the circular walls, dangling more like banners.

"This place is awfully familiar." Teldryn drawled, prompting a snort from me.

We descend into the inn proper, a female Dunmer busy scrubbing away at a table while a few customers took up some of the tables, all nursing their own drinks and meals.

"Olvyniah!" The woman jumped, turning quickly to the source. "I need you to clean the rooms again, there's ash all over!"

"Sorry, boss!" Olvyniah responded, snatching up her rag and rushing to wherever the brooms were kept.

Teldryn moved to seat himself at one of the vacant tables, tilting his head in the direction of the barkeep. I sighed.

"Geldis," I greeted, the mer whirling around with wide eyes before his lips stretched into a grin. "It's been awhile."

"A while indeed!" Geldis exclaimed, setting down the jug of Sujamma before rushing around the counter to pull me into a tight embrace. " I haven't seen you in nigh over twenty-three years!"

I gave a small chuckle, returning the hug as he pulled away. He is the same as ever, his high ponytail turning into a top-knot that holds back dark hair and his beard cleanly trimmed.

The grin he shoots me is one that makes me feel some guilt, for it is full of happiness and relief of seeing a friend you thought to be long-gone from your own life. I had not done well in keeping contact with Raven Rock, the place leaving too many bad memories and experiences that pained a younger me.

"I am well, my friend. It warms my heart to have such an ebullient welcome." I give him a small smile, the mer's own only stretching before he ushers me into a seat at the bar.

"The same as ever then! Come now, haven't I asked you to simplify your words with a mere publican like me?" He laughs, making his way back around the counter and bending down to pull out a bottle. It's unlike the local brews, holding more of an Altmeri design. "I found this in a shipwreck washed up on shore a few years ago, decided to hold some in case you came around again; lucky me that I didn't waste it, eh?"

The guilt grows.

"Is it Aldmeri Brandy?" I ask, drumming my fingers on the countertop to save the urge to apologize. Geldis was not one to take in apologies, whether they be genuine or not.

"It was labelled 'Pyandonea Wine' when I first got it, but the blasted ash must've caused the label to wither away," He curses, dusting off the bottle with a scowl before popping the cork and bringing it up to his lips. "Smells sweet, but I'm told your people prefer that sort of thing."

I had little heart to inform him that Pyandonea was a Maomer location and the wine was probably of such origin. I gave him a small smile, "'Pour up', is what I believe they say?"

Geldis laughed again, shaking his head as he procured two glasses for the both of us, the wine a curious pale blue in color. "It'll never get old hearing you speak so plainly, my dear friend."

I chuckled, taking a sip of the wine and finding myself pleasantly surprised as the taste was lighter than the smell, almost salty than sweet. It was an odd contrast, but one I knew my father would have enjoyed if he ignored the fact that it was Maomeri in origin.

"What have you come to Solstheim for, my friend? Besides inviting Councilor Morvayn's wrath, of course." He winked over his drink, downing the wine as if it was a shot of Sujamma before pouring himself another cup.

"I have business with Master Neloth as a representative from the College of Winterhold." I reply lightly. My Archmage robes were tucked into my travelling pack, as the ash was a pain to wash or dust off of anything not made of chitin, bonemold, and most curiously, stalhrim. It was why I had opted to wear an old set of chitin armor which had seen more use propped up on a mannequin than anybody else.

Geldis whistled. "Risking a visit with the mad Telvanni?"

I sighed. "He isn't mad, Geldis."

The publican shrugged, refilling my glass with a little gesture. Most of Raven Rock were not fond of Neloth, as they were vassals of House Redoran. Tel Mithryn and Raven Rock existed in an uneasy truce where they ignored each other more often than not.

"I've heard quite a few things about that mad mage, my friend." Geldis leaned forward, red eyes darting over my shoulder as if Neloth himself were present before lowering his voice. "It's said he used to kidnap Redoran Councilors' daughters. Now I don't know about you, but it seems to be a pattern with mad Telvanni mages."

I frown, pulling away from Geldis ever-so-slightly. "Master Neloth is an eccentric mer, I will admit, but such rumors are poisonous. I had expected you would know better than putting stock into gossip."

My friend sighs, leaning back to stand straight once again. "I know you are capable, I just worry."

I nod to him. "And for that I am thankful. Master Neloth, however, is a respected colleague of mine. He has given...counsel regarding areas of magic I find myself unfamiliar with and has looked after my health when I dove into more obscure branches.

Neloth was a dear friend as much as I cursed his name. He reminded me of my own grandmother in a way, her scathing tongue and tough approach not unlike his own. I enjoyed his company when it was possible and our letters (while many of them had been forgotten by the wizard as he focused on his own projects) held many interesting topics. Having a Master Telvanni wizard count among a ring of friends was not such a bad thing.

Besides...it was wiser keeping someone around when they knew what foray of obscure magic I dived into.

'The eyes, once bleached by falling stars of utmost revelation, will forever see the faint insight drawn by the overwhelming question, as only the True Enquiry shapes the edge of thought. The rest is vulgar fiction, attempts to impose order on the consensus mantlings of an uncaring godhead. First—"

Geldis peered at me, red eyes looking concerned. "Are you well? You've become a bit pale, my friend."

I waved him off, a strained laugh leaving my lips that had the Dunmer drawing his eyebrows together in worry. A hand settled on my shoulder. Teldryn.

"Geldis." Teldryn greeted. "The same price for a room?"

The publican nodded, taking his eyes off me to give Teldryn a small smile. I ignored the way his eyes darted over here and there in concern. There was no reason for him to feel strongly over a friend who hadn't visited in a little over two decades.

"Of course."

Teldryn slid over the septims, ducking his head in a polite thanks before helping me up from my chair and leading me to a presumably empty room. The doors shut behind us as I all but collapsed into bed, not even the dust that puffed out from it bothering me as I shut my eyes in anxious relief.

My companion's steps were heavy as he made his way around the room, settling our stuff in as much as he could without outright unpacking everything. I had learned my lesson years and years and years ago as a youth first leaving Alinor with little more than a few packs and Ma'zrim (may Xarxes watch over her soul).

"I'm sure a mere innkeep didn't spook you so." Teldryn begins, the sound his armor buckles coming undone somehow relaxing to me. His voice is clearer without his helmet.

"Publican. And no. He didn't."

Teldryn hums, his steps light before the bed dips and I am forced to shuffle myself to the other side where it is cooler. I sigh, muscles relaxing as he unbuckles the straps of my own armor and pries me out of the pieces as best as he can without disturbing me too much.

It's silent between us (it usually is) as the weight of the light armor disappears from my person. I can hear Teldryn curse softly under his breath as he attempts to put the armor away neatly. Only the afternoon and we were getting ready to sleep. Lucia would be cross.

"How do you think the children are doing?" I ask, turning my head so my words don't come out muffled from being pressed into the mattress. My eyes open, Teldryn's lithe form a welcoming sight, stripped down to his tunic and trousers.

"They are hardly children."

I huff. "They'll always be children to us, aure."

He moves to prop a chair by the door to keep out unwanted guests. We had entirely too much coin and important items on us (me) to simply lose from a thief in the night. Not that said hypothetical thief would be successful in stealing from either Teldryn or myself. Light sleepers we were.

"Of course. Their mere decades pale in comparison to the great mer." He shoots me a small smirk and I frown.

"I don't talk like that."

He chuckles, settling back down into bed. A warm hand settles over my back, smoothing away any aches I had with just a touch. "'Course not, dear."

I move closer, acting the little spoon though I hold a good two inches of height over him. He aquices easily enough, pulling me close so my head rests against his clothed chest, the line of tattoos on his face mimicked in pattern on his body. A sliver of dark skin revealed by a hole in the hip of his tunic is evidence enough.

I finger the hole, humming. "I'll be sure to mend this soon."

Teldryn hums in response, his arms warm as they wrap around me. It is a comforting weight to be held so closely; to hear another's heart beat in tune with mine.

We sleep for the rest of the day.

I help Teldryn buckle the straps of his armor, pressing a chaste kiss on his cheek as he then helps me with mine. His hands are warm as always, Dunmeri heritage showing though with the fire that lurks beneath. It's a trait I am envious of, my own Altmeri heritage giving the blessing of a deep magicka pool along with faster regeneration, but not resistance to any sort of element.

"I still will never stop fearing when a dragon's breath washes you in flame," I all but sigh out the words, tracing gentle fingers over his scarred hands. "Fear grips me everytime."

His hands catch my fingers, pressing a sweet kiss onto the tips. It's a rare affectionate gesture from him and my heart melts with it. The smile on his lips is a rougish as ever though, leaning onto more of a smirk than a smile.

"Seducing me so early?" I murmur, my own smile edging upon my lips.

Red eyes glimmer amusedly. "Why, I would never. How bold of you to accuse me, serah. Work and pleasure; never to mix."

I chuckle, giving in to the urge to press a kiss onto his lips he responds to sweetly. It's a warm feeling, to be married to one who feels the same. It isn't an emotion or feeling I thought I would ever feel whilst I lived in Alinor.

We break the kiss, me, smiling at him warmly and Teldryn looking at me with such an impossibly soft look in his eyes that one would never expect of him to have.

How in love we are, I think, pressing a hand on his chestplate, right over where his heart would be. It grounds me, keeping me to the present. He stays here, he still lives.

"We should head out before Neloth forgets we were to visit." I say, not yet able to lose the small smile from leaving my face as I look up at him.

It is still hard to think of the years we had spent together, of how much trials we faced before trying to fade into obscurity. Travelling had done much to give credence to the anonymity we craved, other provinces not knowing exactly who or what the Dragonborn was or looked like.

His thumb brushes over my cheekbone, a tender motion that has me wanting to curl into him.

"As my patron says, serah." His eyes dance amusedly and I scoff without any heat before we are picking up our packs and heading out of the Retching Netch. Geldis isn't manning the bar and instead the mer we saw yesterday who was presumably Drovas's replacement is sweeping the constantly blown-in ash into a dustpan. She looks up as we pass her, red eyes curious.

I wrangle my hair into a tight braid before we exit, tucking it under a cowl before putting on my own mask and stepping out into Raven Rock proper. The blacksmith's is quiet; the Mallory brothers were getting up there in age for human men, despite their Breton heritage. A life led with their trades was harder on the body than most, especially since they were not magick practitioners.

My eyes sweep across the ash-covered square, noting a few more houses that had gone up, leading towards the torn-down remains of the Earth Stone. It was good to see that helping restore the ebony mines had brought life into what used to be a town falling onto extinction.

I turn my head skywards, squinting at the ash falling steadily. It was lighter today and there was no breeze that whispered of an ash-storm to come later.

"Are we taking a boat or walking?"

"I thought it would be nice to exercise our old bones a bit. Don't you agree?" I tilt my head back to look at him, almost laughing at the dry gesture of him crossing his arms.

"After you, serah."

I chuckle, nodding to a few guards as we made our way out of Raven Rock. The old farmhouse had been restored, guard patrols reaching out further than before. It seemed as if Raven Rock was due to expand more.

The trip to Tel Mithryn was as uneventful as it could be on Solstheim. Burnt Spriggans avoided the land around Tel Mithryn like a plague, no doubt from Neloth's subsequent capturing and experimenting on the creatures being the reason.

I flicked my hand outwards, watching dispassionately as shards of ice plunged into the Ash Spawn, Teldryn rushing forward with a cry to effectively end the creature by plunging his blade into the heartstone. I jogged forward, plucking the stone from the ash and pocketing it. There was no need to have more of these running around than there should be.

"I was under the impression we cleared the island of such creatures." I kick at the remains, a frown creasing my brows. It was a worry indeed if the Ash Spawn were still lingering around Solstheim after so long. I would have to question those in Raven Rock when I returned; Neloth would be little use in information gathering on current going-ons as the mer felt little need to leave his home.

Sighing, we continued onward. The sea breeze was a welcoming feeling on the warm temperate of the island, no matter how far north we seemed to be. It was one of those odd things that had an exception, the climate of the island divided between the northern and southern sides of the island, nevermind that Solstheim was further north than Winterhold.

Tel Mithryn was a welcome view as we drew closer. The giant fungi was as impressive as ever, though there seemed to be more growths peppering the circular courtyard I knew to lay within. Neloth did say that he had to oversee some changes as more came to Solstheim looking for work within the mines.

"I will never get over my awe of the Telvanni," Teldryn states. "Look what they've grown from the ash...it's simply amazing."

We stood there for a moment—the Sea of Ghosts a soft hush over the rumbling of the Red Mountain that lay miles and miles away as a silhouetted giant along the blurry coastline of Vvardenfall—admiring the work of the Telvanni. It spoke of a genius to create such housing to bend around them as they saw fit and a true touch with magic as they imbued the very veins of the plant with magicka.

It was a wonderful piece of magick-work that never failed to take my breath away, no matter how lacking the architectural design may be. There was little you could detail with a mushroom of all things, but I found the winding roots and pale stems to be charming in its own way. Certainly interesting, with the way it seemed to compliment a rather desolate landscape.

"I've always wondered why the Bosmeri don't employ such a thing considering the Green Pact." Teldryn says as we begin moving closer once again. His strides match mine easily, our light steps barely making a dent into the shifting dunes of ash that remind me of some twisted parody of Elsweyr.

"They do. It's a specialized ritual, growing buildings from trees." I huff, saving myself from tripping over a washed up piece of driftwood buried under ash.

Tel Mithryn only grows as we near, looming larger and larger until we stand in the great shadow of it all. Pale roots as thick as tree-trunks weave around the settlement, forming a protective wall of sorts. Banners of House Telvanni flap proudly in the wind, new additions with the wall.

"Twenty-three years." I breathe, looking at the new growths. It seems there are new mushroom-homes as well, which make me wonder who else Neloth had added into his household. He had mentioned taking on another apprentice along with adding a new mycologist after Elnyea Mothren had passed.

"Halt! State your business, outsider." A guard in bonemold armor stood proudly, a mask covering his lower face from the harsher weather outside of Raven Rock. The town's walls provided a well of protection from the wind and ash-storms that I don't think it's inhabitants truly knew.

"I am the Archmage of Winterhold," I raise my two hands up, palm-out. A gesture common among mages to show they were friendly and not about to cast a spell. A gesture I had come used to using while traversing Skyrim.

(Unfortunately, my friendly gesture was rarely reciprocated, especially in the wilds of Skyrim.)

"I come on personal business with Master Neloth." I gesture between myself and Teldryn behind me, careful to keep my palms facing him, even if the action was awkward. "Myself and my husband."

The guard harrumphed, unimpressed. His red eyes surveyed the both of us, likely looking for any sort of reason to point out that we were lying so he could either turn us away or cut us down where we stood.

"And the name of the Archmage?" The guard prompted.

"Almaliriel Eruvarin."

A brow raised, interest cooling over dark features. "Interesting name for an Altmer."

"In honor of my maternal aunt-by-marriage, Hravani Velas. She recommended the name after Saint Almalexia." I give a low bow. Behind me, I can hear Teldryn shift to presumably do the same.

"Velas, you say? Of the Velas Clan?" His hand rests on the hilt of his sword, his eyes sceptical as they dance between the two of us.

I give a brittle smile. "Of House Dres."

There is little to say of House Dres other than the more...ardent fervor they held for more traditional aspects of Dunmeri culture. It was no wonder that the Great House was barely managing to stay together, given the aggression by their Argonian neighbors to the south and the Red Year decimating many of their plantations.

It is not a proud relation I hold, given the friendly bonds I hold with a good handful of Argonians, but there is little I could say on the matter as an Altmer. Many races were not as willing to be as friendly since the Great War.

"And you?" He gestures to my husband, eyes narrowed at the ebony sword strapped to his hip.

"Teldryn Sero."

The guard makes a face, eyeing the two of us eith the right amount of suspicion that has me wondering if I would have to simply spell the guard and get on with it just to see Neloth. Honestly… the mer should've at least informed Drovas or Talvas that we were dropping by so his household could expect us.

The guard's companion huffs, arms crossing in front of them. "Just let them through Vedlos. It isn't as if Master Neloth couldn't handle them himself if they are any sort of trouble."

Vedlos, the guard, whips his head to his companion. "Sarnas—"

"You two to right on through. Master Neloth will deal with you." The other guard interrupts once again, moving to the side so we could pass.

I give the other guard a gracious nod, crinkling my eyes in a pleased sort of smile since my mouth is covered. "I thank you."

The guard snorts. "No problem, serah."

The two guards devolve into a low argument full of hissing and the shift of frustrated feet upon the ash-laden ground that has one of my ears twitching amusedly.

I share a glance with Teldryn, amusement sparkling in his own eyes as we near the largest mushroom of the rest. There's no warding at the door, the peculiar fungi-wood feeling cool to the touch as the feeling of magicka begins to fill the very air.

"The Telvanni are much too fond of these for the apathetic wizards they portray." I state, stepping carefully onto the glow of magic before the empty-swoop feeling I have come to associate with levitation magic takes hold.

I try to center my weight as best as I can floating in the air, so as to land with both feet firmly planted onto the landing deck Neloth graciously provides for guests. The cantankerous Dunmer was of the opinion that guests should catch themselves with their magick.

"Oh! Mistress Eruvarin!" Talvas gives a surprised blink from near the enchanting table, his arms laden with scrolls and whatnot. "I wasn't aware you were visiting."

I quickly step off the deck, Teldryn cursing behind me as he stumbles to catch himself with a grumble. My hands reach up to pull off my mask, a friendly smile in place as I step forward to take a few scrolls from the apprentice's hold. "Here, let me help you with this."

I take a few scrolls, eyeing the more open ones with barely-concealed curiosity at the hint of a diagram on one of them. It seemed that Neloth was continuing his more esoteric research then.

"Master Neloth should be with the Spriggans," Talvas says as he dumps the scrolls onto one of the many desks. "He says he's on the edge of a discovery so I've done my best to be as helpful as I can!"

The mer puffs up at this declaration, a proud little smile on his own face. He has come far from the frustrated wizard's apprentice I had known him as, Neloth finally taking my barbed hints to at least teach the poor boy something. He was no Ildari Sarothril, for the way Neloth both raged and mourned his previous apprentice, but he was a talented youth with a dab hand at Conjuration.

"I've offered before, but I would gladly take you on as my own apprentice." I offer graciously.

His cheeks flush a darker colour, eyes darting behind me to presumably look at Teldryn before wetting his lips. "I-I'm not, I, uh."

I laugh, clapping a hand on his shoulder before shaking my head. "Don't worry about it, Talvas. Master Neloth is a fine wizard."

The apprentice mutters something under his breath but gathers himself with a breath, straightening his shoulders and gesturing with his head to the experiment room.

"Master Neloth is in there, if-if you were wondering. I promised Mreyla I would deliver some void salts…" He breaks off to a murmur, head ducked low in a way I recognize from more studious students caught up in their own work. I give a small smile at his retreating back, meeting Teldryn's helmeted gaze with raised brows.

"Well?" I prompt, hands on my hips.

He shrugs.

"Honestly," I sigh. "I didn't judge the mer who looked like an overgrown chaurus when I looked to hire, did I?"

"Terrible choice, serah. Should've taken a big, burly, Nord." His voice is inexplicably dry, prompting a snicker from me as I make my way over to the experiment room.

"Stand there and don't touch anything." I order off-handedly over my shoulder.

"I'll be here."

There's a noticeable change in the air as I near the experiments room, magick more charged than before. It's understandable, given what Neloth gets up to when in his free-time. I let my hand trail along one of the sporus walls, they practically shiver in delight at the touch. How interesting. I wonder if the house gains sentience with the Telvanni, years upon years of magickal output was sure to have effects of some sort, just like—

Neloth is hunched over something in the corner, mumbling wildly. I peer around the room, noting that nothing much has changed other than the table being swapped out for something newer and taller. Less stains on it too.

There's a Burnt Spriggan watching me warily from the cage it's in. I eyed it, noting the more washed-out look of this one than its contemporaries with clinical ease. It's easier to think of the research that can come about of such reclusive and aggressive creatures despite the whole immorality of it all. That, and trying to stop Neloth from anything was like having a fireball to the face for a response.

The Spriggan hissed—or hissed as much as it could, bound and stuck in a magickally-restraining cage that flared with runes and wards the moment it moved—the lack of the creature's own magic had seen to lose it's glow. Whatever Neloth had been doing to the poor thing had caused it to warp into a more natural form, looking more like a tree than anything.

"Don't tease the thing," Neloth snaps from his spot in the corner. "Whatever emotional reaction is has can ruin my notes."

I raise a brow. "Apologies."

The Telvanni snorts, turning to me with his signature unimpressed look. His lips purse and he eyes me from head to toe. "You look terrible."

I tilt my head towards him dryly. "Polite as ever."

"Bah! You and your manners. You're one to speak, married to a mercenary of all things." He waves a dark hand, eyes shining in fond amusement despite the bite to his words. He had softened considerably after my stint here in Solstheim, letters doing their best to break the thaw completely until a knowledgeable colleague became a friend.

He was as kind to me as he ever would be to another person. Neloth was of the sort that preferred to be alone to his own work, as many of his Great House were, but I supposed he didn't mind the company if he added more to his household. He was just...abrasive. More people minded Neloth, than Neloth minded people.

"Can I not visit a colleague?"

"Yes, yes, you're the Archmage of Winterhold. Why you flaunt that title is beyond me, that College is little more than a few rocks holding onto the vestiges of something that was once great." The last sentence is muttered, tone sour as he turns back to whatever is in the small cage and slaps a hand on it. The room seems to burst with magicka for a moment, the hairs on my skin rising in alarm before the moment ends and Neloth is preening where he stands.

"A few of your kinsmen attend—"

"Shameful."

"—and they find it quite enlightening." I ignore his interruption, folding my hands in front of me. "Now are we to sit ourselves and have tea fetched like proper mer, or are we to stand in this room while your experiment tries to eviscerate me from behind their bars."

The Spriggan hisses, runes glowing warningly on the bars of the cage before it quiets. It's a pitiful thing that has me wanting to do nothing more than end it of its suffering, but alas, this is the work of another and as a mage I have little to say when it comes to learning, bar necromancy. Most mer can agree that necromancy is wrong, despite the number of notorious lichs that seem to come from our race.

Neloth lazily waves a hand as he breezes past, the Spriggan flaring up once again in defensive anger before I follow him out of the room. A door rolls into place, much like the one that locked the staff enchanter room.

"Caniphre is convinced that my research is cruelty. I've had to grow a door-lock to keep her from freeing the damn creature." Neloth says at my questioning look.

"Caniphre?" It's not a name I'm familiar with and by the way the older wizard seems to age a few years at the name, they are someone who troubles the mer dearly.

"My...niece." He bites the word out as if it pains him to admit he has some sort of familial tether to others. Knowing Neloth, it probably does.

"I wasn't aware you had a niece." I say, clearing a small table as Teldryn wanders over to take the books from hand and dump it on a random desk. Hopefully they weren't important.

"Yes, well, I wish I didn't." He settles into the chair across from me, snapping his fingers in rapid succession. "Varona! No...wait, she's dead."

I snorted. His previous steward before Drovas had been dead for the last twenty-three years, but of course the mer still had trouble remembering.

"Rulra! Drovas!" Neloth bellows, my ears twitching at the yell. Teldryn gives a deep sigh, plopping down a chair he had no doubt taken from another spot in the tower before seating himself next to me.

There's a crash of something before a small form is darting out from one of the rooms. Neloth's unused one by the looks of it. I raise my brows as the mer lifts their head to reveal brown skin instead of the customary black or gray from those on Solstheim. What was a Bosmer doing serving a Telvanni wizard? There was a story there.

"Yes, Master Neloth!" The Bosmer all but squeaked, their eyes curiously more round than most of our kind. Human-blooded, perhaps? "Canis root, right?"

Neloth hums, tapping his fingers impatiently on the table, "Yes, yes, canis root. Don't let Ulves water it down."

"Frost mirriam for me, please." I interject before the girl can dart. She has that flighty look around her, big brown eyes darting nervously from myself, to the Telvanni, and finally Teldryn. She gives a squeak, nodding rapidly before practically launching herself off the bannister to the levitation enchantment blow.

"A Bosmer?" I turn my head to Neloth, hearing the girl slam the door shut behind her.

"Yes. I needed someone around here with enough knowledge with herbology to make some proper tea. Drovas is utterly helpless, the lump."

Hiring another steward just for tea? Well, it certainly was something the mer was prone to do. It was better to at least hear that poor Drovas had someone to share his duties with, for the tower looked much cleaner than the last time I had been here. Varona had certainly done her best keeping the place as neat as she could when she still lived, but Drovas didn't have that cleaning touch and Talvas was entirely too absorbed in pleasing Neloth to clean when he wasn't trying to gather his Master's favor.

"So, a niece?" It's hard to imagine Neloth actually having a family somewhere. Even though it wasn't logical, the mer was someone who had just...existed in my mind. He was certainly of the sort to claim he came to being by pure willpower and talent alone.

"Yes," He says, a bitter note clinging to the single word. "My sister's offspring. I had offered to take her in polite jest, but the blasted woman thought I was serious. The girl has little talent in magick and it's a shame to count her among the ranks of Telvanni, not to mention sharing ancestry with the chit."

I blink. I had always known Neloth to be of the callous, but to speak ill of a kinsmen? I sigh, leaning back in my chair in a way that my mother would've zapped me for. She was always one for propriety, climbing the ranks of Altmeri society with more judgement clapped onto her than most due to her more common birth.

"Surely you jest? She cannot be that untalented, magick runs in the blood of mer." Magick ran in our very veins, gifted to us by Syrabane, who was gifted by Magnus himself. It was a teaching that was drilled into every Altmeri child the moment they could coax magic out of them.

"I do not jest of her lack of talent. It's a stain on my lineage." Neloth grumbles, tugging on his beard agitatedly. This was a topic that bothered him greatly, for the mer was usually the very picture of cool composure.

I'm saved from coming up with a tactful response as the Bosmer steward returns, gracefully managing to hold the tray with two different teapots balanced on it as she lands on the out-hanging deck. She looks frazzled with nerves, her eyes going even wider as they make contact with my own. I try to give a small, comforting smile, but that seems to send the girl into further anxiety.

I sigh.

"Canis root tea as you said, Master Neloth!" She squeaks, setting down the tray with smooth hands despite her edgy demeanor. "And frost mirriam too, of course."

She pours the teas with an expert hand, practically flying out of her spot as Teldryn speaks up.

"Canis root for myself as well, serah."

"Of-of-of course!" Her face flushes all the way to the tips of her ears, handing Teldryn his own cup before bowing out with the tray.

"Flighty thing." I comment, watching her trip over the threshold of the door leading elsewhere.

"Mm, yes. An annoying trait but she is the only one on this blasted island that makes anything decently resembling tea." Neloth turns his red eyes to me as he takes a deep drink of his tea. "You are aware I've summoned you here not for idle chit-chat."

I nod, sipping at my own drink. A minty feeling fills my mouth at the taste, the frost mirriam a welcome balm that is delightfully refreshing. It was a common tea, but a classic one as well that graced even the halls of my ancestral home in Alinor.

"Of course. I wouldn't assume such a note would be anything but. You aren't one for idle pleasures." I try to not let the wry smile on my lips show as the wizard across from me practically preens at the sly praise.

"Praise that is due is awarded, you Altmeri are talented in that verbal trade. Nevertheless," He sets down his cup, steam dragging an idle pattern from the liquid. "I've come to believe that there is a positive link with headstones and the Heart of Lorkhan."

The tower seems to still, my heart a steady thud in my chest as waves crash in my ears. I stare at him with wide eyes, unable to fully process the words he just said. Beside me, Teldryn has gone still from shuffling, the two of us focused fully on Neloth.

"Truly?" My words come out as a whisper, a dying hush that one would have to strain to hear, even for us mer.

"The Nerevarine has done more for Nirn than most realize," Neloth begins, leaning forward low enough that his beard tickles the table. "But I have come to the conclusion that heart stones hold some of—"

"Some of that power."I finish, mind racing with the possibilities. Immortality, surely, along with untold power. The very heart of a god who had sundered a whole race in his own tricks, leaving them to splinter and war among each other as if they were not kin.

"How are you sure?" I ask, eyes narrowing.

He scoffs, leaning back from the table with an almost offended look. "Don't be daft. I've done countless research and experimentation on heart stones to finally lay an actual theory with valid evidence. The Ash Spawn? An able power source? The raw magic it leaks? Spurting from the Red Mountain?"

My teeth clack together, hands clenched around my cup so tightly that it might shatter in my very hands. It's a sound theory, one that would have magickal researchers and scholars scrambling to get any sort of sample of a heart stone.

"The Aldmeri Dominion." My heart sinks at the thoughts running through my head. It would be a breakthrough, an explanation of why Morrowind has become so corrupted and wild—

"What about them?"

"Don't be daft," I parrot, Neloth practically bristling in his seat at his own words thrown back at him. "They crave immortality. True immortality. This theory would bring you more trouble than it's worth."

"I am a Master Telvanni—"

"Neloth." He pauses, looking startled at my informality. I was not one to drop honorifics or titles without cause, especially with one who was considered a social peer in mer standing. "They will come for you. They will war for your research, your information, they will take Great House Telvanni and burn it to the ground—"

A hand settles on my shoulder, startling me from my words. It's with startling clarity that I realize the frog in my throat and how my person shakes. My hands burn, the cup shattered into shards with ceramic digging into the skin of my palms.

"I-I apologize for my misconduct." The words are hollow, wooden, an automatic barrier to fall back on ingrained from a childhood of habit.

Neloth stares at me with wide eyes, as if he has never seen me before. I am sure there is a haunted look on my own face, downcast eyes that speak of too much, that know of too much.

"I-" I breathe, collecting my thoughts and exhaling the lump in my throat that chokes me with every breath. Teldryn's hand is an assuring weight, reminding me that there is someone—if there wasn't anyone that there was at least someone who would walk into Oblivion with me as long as it meant coming out hand-in-hand.

"You are a friend, Neloth." I emphasize the word, staring at my hands as if I had never seen them before. Blood dribbles down from the cuts, a stinging sensation quickly joining in song with the burning one from the tea. It reminds me of my mortality. Of mer mortality. "This...research...this cannot be allowed to leave Tel Mithryn. It cannot leave your tower. I know the atrocities committed by my brethren, I know what they are capable of."

"Still, you cannot believe that they would—"

"They will. They want to and they will. My people already froth over Divayth Fyr. A Dunmer of that magical prowess and breeding, able to live four times the age of our elders? We are wary of our ancestors, rightly so, and a mer living long enough to see the corruption of Chimer to Dunmer? To live as a Chimer and turn into a Dunmer?" I shake my head, my eyes solemn as I meet Neloth's own. "Don't be naive."

An awkward silence settles over us then, Teldryn's hand sliding down from my shoulder as he stands to tug on my arm so I face him. He removes his gloves, nimble fingers quickly making word of pulling out the shards of the cup while I watch blankly.

It was a dangerous theory, but oh-so tempting. I had allowed the lure of immortality to call to me—as many mer do for agelessness was made for our bodies before Lorkhan had ripped it away—when faced with Lord Harkon. It was not something I could allow again.

"Needless to say, I still have not shared the details of why I summoned you post-haste." Neloth begins, looking distinctly more uncomfortable than I have ever seen him before.

Teldryn shifts my hand in his own to work out some of the smaller shards, the blood on my skin beginning to stick uncomfortably. I feel weary at the Telvanni's words, whatever energy I had sucked out by Neloth's shocking exclamation.

"Go ahead," I say to Neloth before switching my attention to my husband, hissing through my teeth as ceramic cuts even deeper into my palm. "Grab the tweezers in my bag."

My companion does so silently, moving to dig through my rucksack before I turn a tired gaze onto my friend. A troublesome friend, but a friend nonetheless. May my ancestors guide me through troublesome relationships, I think sardonically. There was little I could do now that I was attached to the blasted mer.

"I've been intending to test a theory upon heart stones," He continues on despite my heavy look. How determined to give me grief, this mer was. "Along with the relationship between immortality and mer. As you know—"

"I am aware of our history, Master Neloth." I sigh, my senses telling me that I should thank him for his invitation but decline whatever he was about to ask of me before throwing myself down the levitation enchantment and booking it right back to Skyrim. Lucia would appreciate the visit. She was such a good girl compared to the rest of my terror spawn.

Neloth sniffs but doesn't give a rebuttal, practically confirming my thoughts of me looking like an absolute mess just at the mention of possible immortality available not through true vampirism.

"Well. I have a test subject in the barracks and I would like your help conducting said test. You are the most competent colleague I can call on such short notice and there is no chance of me even allowing any of my kinsmen to get wind of my research after your little outburst."

There it was.

I close my eyes, willing the oncoming headache to go away. There was too much to unpack in that alone and I didn't want to get into an argument with the mer over morality because what the fuck does he mean he has a test subject in the barracks.

"Master Neloth…" I sigh, but he seems to take that as an affirmative and all-but leaps from his chair with a spryness I wouldn't expect from one who spends a sedentary life by doing exclusively only research. The man got an absolute kick out of sending people to do his dirty work for him.

"Perfect. Now heal that thing up, I don't want you dribbling your blood everywhere, you can accidentally begin a blood magic ritual that way, it's happened before."

I squeeze my eyes shut, resisting the urge to ask just what he was doing with ritualized blood magic before explosively exhaling. The reason why I hadn't personally visited the mer in so long despite looking upon him fondly is becoming startling clear as he makes his exit down the levitation enchantment.

"I trust none of this will ever leave us?"

Teldryn doesn't look at me but his hands flicker with rudimentary healing magic that has me sighing in relief at the warm sensation. Restoration magick was one of the most invasive, pushing your own magick to someone else's latent energy to help pull whatever needed back together. It was a hard branch of magick to learn, being the reason why Healers were so valued in Altmeri society.

"You pay me enough, serah." His hands brush against mine for an extra moment, a moment that counts as an affectionate gesture before he is pulling away and grabbing my rucksack to carry. "Let's hurry before the Telvanni manages to open an Oblivion Gate or the like?"

I sigh. "Of course."

Nothing ever goes to plan when you're the Dragonborn.

I can feel the snow seeping into whatever small crevices not covered by my armor, tugging at my Altmeri constitution oh-so daringly as if it was mocking the high illness-resistance provided by whatever divine heritage passed down through my ancestors.

I turn my head to my side, catching the profile of Teldryn's helmet as he too looks skyward. There's snow instead of ash.

"Teldryn?"

He hums.

"I'm going to strangle Neloth." I state, turning my head to stare at the sky above.

"Not 'Master' Neloth?" His tone is mocking and I furrow my brows before heaving myself up from the snow. It was deeper than I thought, coming up to my mid-thigh. Fresh snow too, with the way it compacted easily under weight.

I pause.

"I'll strangle Neloth before I strangle you," My hands grab his, pulling him out of the snow and dusting whatever powered onto his chitin armor.

He tilts his head towards me in a silent question, my own deadpan meeting his helmeted face before gesturing explosively to the massive hole in the sky.

"You just had to say Oblivion Gate!" I all-but screech, decorum flying out of the window before my husband then turns his gaze up at the green swirling mass. Dread pools in my gut because I already know that I'm going to be saddled with fixing this shit because the closest thing to heroes left is myself and whispers of the Nerevarine in Akavir.

The only people who closed Oblivion Gates with relative success were the Vestige and the Hero of Kvatch, the both of whom were dead. The Nerevarine was sure as hell not going to return to Tamriel, given that they were probably dead as well because, Akavir.

The swirling mass above, of course, doesn't care for anyone's panic and continues to have the silhouetted figures of Dremora practically fall from it's gaping maw. I never wished harder than in that moment for the Argonians of the Black Marsh to suddenly pop up and lend a hand. They would know what to do with a literal hole into Oblivion, for Auri-El's sake they invaded Oblivion right back.

"This is all your fault and I want an annulment." I hiss, crossing my arms to give a semblance of warmth to my Altmeri-ass because I'm from a place called the Summerset Isles to men. I was out of my damn mind, choosing to study in Skyrim of all places. I could've moved on and gone over to Morrowind, but no, I wanted to gawk at the old ruins and learn more ice magic because where else was a better place for ice magic than Skyrim?

I'm aware that the laughter that spills out of me is more hysterical than anything because Teldryn is already scooping me into his arms like a dutiful husband, murmuring a string of words in Dunmeri that I can't understand because mer languages are infuriatingly complicated if you weren't a native speaker.

"You don't mean that and we both know it." His hands rest at the curve of my back, a comforting weight despite the tears that are dribbling down my face. Gods, I feel like a child.

"It's still your fault."

"I know." His tone is soothing and there goes another round of tears that sting my face because ow, we obviously were displaced to the other side of the island if it's this cold. "I'm sorry for causing more trouble for you."

"I don't want to fight Dremora and Oblivion-knows-what." I mutter petulantly, wiping away at my stinging tears with my hands. Teldryn chuffs a laugh and I glare at him to shut up before turning my head back up to the eerily green Oblivion Gate.

"You are so lucky I managed to get Neloth to put an extendable enchantment on my bag or else we would be fucked." I begin to unbuckle the straps of my chitin armor. There would be no use in wearing it when I had only put it on because of the resistance to the Red Mountain's endless ash.

Teldryn, bless his heart despite me blaming a literal hole in the sky not moments before, helps me undress in the freezing cold before passing me my Archmage robes that are laden with warming runes to keep off the cold in Winterhold. Gloves go on next, horker leather reliable in keeping in warmth and keeping out moisture. I quickly wrap my boots up, finishing off the final wrap with a lace.

I wrangle my hair into it's usual bun, wavy hair falling to frame the sides of my face before I share a look with my companion. We stare at each other for a moment and without words, we take-off, leaping and bounding over the snowy ground, heading straight to the center.

The air is cold, crisp, and dizzying only in a way that meant we were on higher elevation. Trees whip around me, Teldryn close on my heels as we crest a cliff-end that has me gaping in silent horror.

"Teldryn?" I whisper, eyes wide at the scene below.

"Yes, wife?" His term of affection doesn't shake me from the slowly sinking feeling that only gets deeper, my hands clenching to keep me from magically exploding outwards.

"I don't think we are in Nirn."

He peers over my shoulder, looking down at the torn-up building and burning fires. The smell of burning bodies is strong, though the stark realization of what the fuck is going on is keeping me from retching.

"The architecture looks wrong, blown up as it is." I murmur, eyes flickering across the dots of moving troops and civilians that scramble around the wreckage.

Teldryn shifts, his silence confirming my own thoughts with a dread. His eyes are better than mine and while he isn't as well-traveled, he has seen and has taken great pleasure in the pictures I have collected across Tamriel in my own travels.

I give a weak laugh, the sound hollow to my own ears before tears once again build up in my eyes before I am all but hunched over, crying while hysterical laughter once again makes itself known. I hadn't felt like this in a long time, since well…

Since my world flipped. Since I found out I had the soul of a dragon.

"Fuck." I breathe between pitiful laughs and gasps of air.

"How eloquent you are, my dear." Teldryn says, the concern in his voice being immediately backseated by his comment that has me launching into a new wave of hysterics. How eloquent, how eloquent, indeed.