Chapter 17

City of Italica

Black-Scales was aimlessly wandering the streets. Needless to say he was bored out of his mind. Since the departure of the Princess, he and his fellow Battlemages had received no new orders, essentially rendering them jobless, potions, scrolls and enchantments' stock having already been refilled.

The Argonian sighed as his steps led him right to the city's marketplace. Just like yesterday, it was teeming with activity with merchants coming from the nearby towns and villages, including some from the Vassal Kingdoms now that the roads had been confirmed more or less secure.

Black-Scales watched the activity unfolding before him before musing. It was a good thing, people had less incentive to be violent if they had food and even luxury goods.

"You there!" a female voice called.

The Nightblade turned around to see its source. A woman behind a market stall was motioning with her finger for him to approach. As he did so, he realized she had a lamia-like body which had been hidden by the stall, but her torso and face remained that of a merish woman with a fair complexion compared to the fully snake-like Tamrielian lamias. Come to think of it, weren't there stories how the ones back home used illusion magic to look just like that to seduce and devour people? the Argonian thought as she observed the merchant.

"You, noble Lizardman, I have ss-something for you," the creature said with a smile before disappearing behind her counter.

Black-Scales flinched at the term she used. "No offense ma'am, but my people aren't Lizardmen, we're called Argonians*."

As her head re-appeared and presented him with a box, she gave him a curious look. "Draconians you ss-said?"

He shook his head. "No, Argonians."

"Oh? My mi-ss-take s-Sir, I've never encountered your people before so I ss-simply juss-st assumed."

"I suppose you would not, we are… far from here," he replied while scratching his head.

She opened the box to let him admire its content. It was full of jewelry pieces of all kinds, most with a snake-like pattern.

Must be cultural

"I'm ss-sure some of these pieces would delight your lady friend, my lord," the woman said while sending him a suggestive wink. "Or ss-soon-to-be," she added with a more sultry tone, showing her forked tongue while talking.

Oh boy, is she flirting now?

He shook his head before gazing back at the jewelry. It was a good occasion to buy souvenirs for his family after all.

Let me see… these earrings will please Mom, that bracelet for Ocheeva and… wait what's that?

He froze. It looked like a ring with three particular jewels, amethysts. Black-Scales' family had long cutten ties with Argonia centuries ago but he had learned about some traditional practices so he knew rings like that were used to celebrate traditional Saxhleel weddings.

Is that a sign from the Divines I need to marry myself? He shook his head. What in Oblivion am I thinking now?

"Finding ss-something you like?" the merchant asked him.

He nodded, showing the jewelry he was taking, the ring included. He grabbed his purse.

"I unfortunately do not own local money but I have jewels and pure gold to replace them, I'm sure we can come to an agreement."

She agreed with a nod and they soon found the right price.

"Thank you for this-sss, my lord. I hope we'll meet again," the lamia-like woman wished him with another wink.

"It's me who is thanking you my lady, good day to you," he said before departing.

As he walked, he briefly inspected the ring he had recently bought. "I must be getting old if I'm thinking of settling down with a wife and hatchlings of my own," he joked before refurbishing the ring in his satchel with his other purchases.

"Sir Black-Scales!" he heard a familiar voice calling him.

He turned his head to see Tuka rushing towards him.

It was that moment that a man chose to cross the street, unaware he was in the middle of the elf's trajectory.

Holy Mother Mara… the Argonian thought with stupor as the two were about to collide.

Tuka reacted faster and jumped over the pedestrian, realizing a somersault and landing before the Nightblade.

"Bravo kiddo," he said with a smile while clapping.

The teenager grinned at his compliment. "Elven agility."

He rolled his eyes. "Rrrright. You sure you ain't a Bos… a Wood Elf in disguise?"

She frowned her brows, looking at him perpexled. "A Wood Elf? I mean we High Elves live in the forest so what's the difference?"

"Bah, forget it," he replied with a wave of his hand. "So what were you doing before those acrobatics of yours?"

"Nothing much, just wandering the city. Then I saw you at the lamia's stand."

Black-Scales briefly gazed back at the snake-like woman while holding his chin in contemplation. "So she was a local lamia, do they use illusion spirit magic to conceal their true appearance here?"

Tuka tilted her head and stared at him with incomprehension. "Illusion spirit magic? That doesn't exist as far as I'm aware nor do lamias can use spirit magic at all. What do they look like on Nirn then?"

"The upper body is also snake-like. Anyway," he searched for something in his satchel before taking a necklace. "I have something for you." He handed her the jewelry, "I was buying gifts to bring back to my family then I thought of you. Hope you like it."

"Ooh, it's so pretty!" She pulled him into a quick hug. "Thank you!"

"Think of nothing, kid," the Argonian said while helping the girl put the necklace on, it had a small green jewel on the center to match with her eyes.

She turned around to admire her reflection on a nearby armor on a merchant stand before gazing back at him. "You never said you were married, how many children do you have?"

A drop of sweat fell from his head as he suddenly motioned his hands negatively. "Helah! I'm not married, I'm still young! I meant my family as in my Pa, Ma and siblings."

"Oh?" She repressed a nervous laugh. "Sorry, my mistake. How are they?"

"Pa and Ma are working class in the city of Daggerfall, capital of the Kingdom of the same name. Pa is a docker or was, I guess. He mostly retired after I bought him and Ma a new home in the upper districts of the city. Ma stopped working altogether and is taking care of my younger siblings. We're a rather numerous family of 12 children and there's at least another one who is training to join the Legion, not like me but in the Navy actually."

Her eyes glinted, no doubt trying to imagine a family full of Black-Scales from all genders and ages. "Sounds nice." Her face became grim. "I was an only child living with my father but in a way some of the other children from the village were like siblings to me." She sniffed as the memories rushed back.

A hand gently rested on her shoulder and the Nightblade gave him an understanding nod.

She nodded back and wiped from her eyes the small tears that had begun to creep.

They left the marketplace.

"The Dark Elves," Tuka began while still walking, "what did happen that they had to leave their home in a hurry?"

The Argonian didn't answer her, he didn't want to bring back the memories of the Dragon when it was obvious she had yet to fully heal from it but he didn't know what to say either. Come on, think of something, fast

"It was the Flame Dragon, wasn't it?"

He froze, unable to say anything to deny it. You had one job, he scolded himself.

"It's okay," she said while putting on a brave face, "I already guessed it a while back. I mean, what else would make a bunch of Dark Elves run from their sacred subterranean home?"

"We wanted to protect you."

Her entire body shook a bit and she hugged herself before replying. "I thank you for trying to protect me but I think I will have to face it, eventually."

An idea suddenly came to Black-Scales' mind to distract the girl and he grabbed the ring with the three amethysts he had just bought before showing her. "Take a look at this."

"That's a pretty ring," she said while admiring it.

"Indeed but do you want to know why I bought it?"

As she replied with a small nod, his fingers motioned to the ring's three jewels. "See these? In traditional Argonian culture, each one represents something. Two are for the couple and the third one on the center is the Hist, the sapient Tree which are revered by traditional Argonians. The custom is that when they wish to marry, one has to present a ring like this to the other before celebrating their vows."

The young elf seemed captivated by his story, the amethystes reflecting in her blue eyes. "So your parents married with a ring like this?"

Much to her surprise, he shook his head.

"Why not?"

"They aren't traditionalists. My family had lost ties with the Argonian homeland several generations ago, in fact they pretty much are as local we can be. The tradition about the ring? It's an innkeeper I met who told me how he married his wife."

Tuka stopped to reflect on it, she recalled hearing something similar not long ago from someone else.

"I think Captain Caranya said something similar, her heart being too 'Nibenese'. I don't understand it. You're Argonian, right?"

As he nodded, she continued, "And she's… I forgot the name of Elves like her, mmh, what was it again?"

"Altmer"

"Right! She's Altmer. So, what I don't understand, you two are saying you aren't actually part of your respective people?"

The High Rock native smiled, the girl was raising a very good point. "It's complicated. I can't speak for the Captain but I can for me and my family. See, I was born in the city of Daggerfall, far from the Argonian Homeland. I learned the tongue of the locals, played with their kids, went to the Temple with them and followed the same culture as they did. But why am I an Argonian and them Bretons?" He motioned to himself, particularly his face. "Because biologically this is what I am but it doesn't define who I am as an individual."

"I… never thought about it."

He chuckled. "Life's very complicated, kiddo."

"But then why did you buy the ring then?"

He shrugged before pocketing the jewelry. "Fate maybe?" he joked. "I don't know, sometimes in life you do things you don't even know why yourself."

She crossed her arms over her chest, her lips spreading into a smile. "Fate? That sounds… mysterious I guess." She shook her head. "By the way, what was that about a sapient Tree?"

Black-Scales nervously scratched his head. "Well… that's kind of a funny story."

Imperial War Camp's Chapel of Ykalon

The Chapel had been set up in the largest tent of the camp, to allow a maximum of worshippers to come at the same time. The shrines inside weren't just dedicated to the Divines (even if they were more in evidence) but also to Saints and Gods from other Pantheons, Aedric, Daedric or none like Magnus and Y'ffre.

Rory had been directed by Cyrus to a Priestess of Mara. Judging from her sacerdotal clothes and the symbol of her Goddess (a golden knot) on her forehead, she was a Nibenese like the Necromancer. She nodded with a gentle smile as the latter explained to her the whole situation before she took the Apostle to Mara's altar. For his part, the Battlemage went to pray in front of various shrines.

The Priestess motioned to the tattoo on her forehead then to the same golden knot the Goddess' statue was holding. "This is our Lady's sigil. It symbolizes the vows that spouses take when they are wed in her Temples."

"So what you are saying is… Marriage is a ritual about tying people together," Rory deduced.

The woman of cloth had difficulty suppressing a laugh. "Their souls actually but yes, that's a way of seeing things and just between us, some people have taken to calling it 'Ball and chain'."

The demi-goddess stuck her tongue out in disgust, "Yuck, you don't make it sound very engaging."

"For people in love with one another, it doesn't." She put her hands over her chest, where her heart was. "To understand that feeling, you have to live it."

Rory seemed unsure at the statement but the Priestess continued.

"Our Lady is the faithful wife of our divine Father, Akatosh, the Dragon God of Time and King of the Divines. But she isn't just a Goddess of weddings, her sphere includes fertility, agriculture and love in all of its forms, romantic or not."

Huh? Cyrus said something similar, the girl remembered. "What do you mean by 'in all of its forms, romantic or not', I don't understand."

The Priestess lips spread into another gentle smile, the kind mothers made at their children to comfort them. "Mara's love is present in all mortals' hearts no matter how they express it. A stranger showing compassion to a beggar, the caring touch of a mother, the embrace of a loved one, friends supporting each other, all of that is a form of love and they are all encouraged."

The Apostle quietly listened to her, it was much more complex than she initially thought but she started to take a liking to that Goddess.

The priestess continued her speech, imperturbable. "She gave life to mortals so that they may love one and another and spread her gift. Her holy truth teaches us that it is through love that life is created, thus spreading her Warmth and Light spread life."

"Wait, what if they're infertile?" Rory suddenly asked.

"It can happen," her interlocutor conceded, "but sometimes they can be blessed with the Goddess to bear a life."

"Sometimes?"

"You have to understand, what matters above all else in a union to Lady Mara isn't the procreation, it's the quality of love. After all, no blessing can grant same sex unions children of their own."

So same sex unions are allowed if they love each other

"But that doesn't mean they cannot have children. If they are a loving home, they will be a perfect place to nurture orphaned children which is as Her holy truth said."

Myes, makes sense but still…

"And what about loveless marriages?" the girl pointed out. "Surely, it must happen?"

The priestess nodded, a sad air on her face. "It sometimes does and in that case the divorce is the best solution. Our Lady does not like seeing her children suffer if they cannot hold the same feelings towards one another when they took the vows. The marriage being annulled is also another possibility but this option is not very popular and not used unless one of the spouses has committed a grave offense against the vows taken."

The Apostle acknowledged the reply with a slight nod, that Goddess was definitely not an hypocrite and seemed to genuinely care about her worshippers. "She must be well liked, am I being wrong?"

"Love breeds love, even among non-Aedric worshipper culture, Lady Mara is quite popular. After all, isn't being given love with nothing in return the greatest gift?"

I can see why. "Thank you for your help, Priestess. I think you've answered all the questions I had."

"It was my pleasure. If you have any other ones, don't hesitate to come back, I'll be happy to help you more."

Rory gave the priestess a small nod before turning around. Now where did Cyrus go?

Somehow, the Necromancer's steps had led him to a particular place within the Chapel; he found himself facing the Reclamation's shrine of Boethiah. A few offerings from worshippers like ash yams littered the altar.

The Heartlander glanced at the Prince's representation. Compared to the shrines of the other two Reclamations, it was completely abstract. One could maybe hope to imagine some winged silhouette in the middle but it was very subjective. It looked more like the artist had painted at random but in a very aggressive way. In fact, this was what it was inspiring to Cyrus, struggles, fighting and bloodsheds. Which fit very well the Prince's sphere.

He didn't know what to think, he had let himself wander a bit and had ended up here. Before the visions, he had never been much into Boethiah, nor any Daedric Princes for that matter, even though lawful cults were teeming within his native Nibenay. It just wasn't his cup of tea, till now at least. But he wasn't about to leave an offering, not that the Prince would actually care for it, only actions mattered.

"What is this supposed to represent?"

He turned his head to see Rory. He had been so absorbed into his own thoughts he hadn't heard her coming.

"The Daedric Prince of Plots."

The Apostle frowned upon hearing the answer. "Daedric Prince? As in 'Daedra'?"

He nodded. "Correct, the Princes are Daedra Gods."

"Charming fellow, does this one have a name?"

"Boethiah"

She smirked. "Sounds more like a girl's name."

"Sometimes the Prince is one, sometimes they are male, and some other times they are both or neither."

The girl gave him a deadpan stare. "What?"

"Daedric Princes are, for the majority of them, beings of Chaos and Change, most have a favorite gender but they can change it. Boethiah doesn't. Genders as we understand them are after all mortal conception."

Rory put a finger under chin as she reflected on what she was being told. "So, if I understand it, Daedric Princes are evil Gods."

Her companion shook his head negatively.

"But you said they were beings of Chaos!" she protested.

"Chaos doesn't mean evil, it's part of a reality as much as Order. Without Chaos, there's no free will. The Daedric Princes' morality is beyond the scale of mortal comprehension and with the exception of one, they can both do evil and good things."

"I guess it kind of makes sense," she shrugged, "there's no God of Chaos back home. Go figure out."

He didn't answer her.

They left the Chapel soon after. Cyrus had suggested they go back to the mess to eat before it became crowded.

The idea had kept the Apostle in a bright mood. "You'll make me taste a local speciality?"

He almost sighed. This is a military camp, not a restaurant. Ah well, maybe there was something on the menu that could please her.

"Say, you didn't ask why I wanted to know about the local Goddess of Love," Rory said.

They stopped to let pass a patrol. Cyrus saluted them and they in turn gave him back his salute.

"No, I didn't," the Battlemage replied.

As they resumed walking, Rory, who was waiting for a more detailed answer, pinched her nose as it never came. That guy is impossible

"And you're not going to ask at all?"

The Nibenese planted his feet before turning to look at her. "You know, if you want to say the reason, just stay it instead of making it look like I'm the one who wants to."

"I…" her cheeks reddened out of unnerving, "ah screw you, jerk." She punched him in the shoulder before pouting.

I can thank my training for tanking that one, he thought as he massaged his arm. He suddenly remembered something.

"About local speciality, I think I might know of something they serve at the mess." He motioned for her to move. "Then you can tell me why you wanted to learn about Lady Mara."

The demi-goddess went back to her usual cheerful self. "Really? I hope for your sake it's good," she said in a faux-threatening tone.

The "speciality" Cyrus had talked about wasn't actually like what Rory had hoped it would be. It consisted of skewered meat (in this case local ox meat) cut in small bits and then put inside bread. Local cooked vegetables were accompanying it.

The Apostle gazed at her plate then to her companion who took a bite from his dish. She decided to imitate him without great conviction. Much to her surprise, it was actually better than she had thought.

"Not bad at all."

"Keep in mind it's the one they serve in the army, the one they sell in cities can have more variety."

"Well, I'll have to try that one if you take me there," she said with a not so subtle hint while taking another bite. "By the way about earlier, there's something I need to tell you."

"I'm listening."

The girl briefly looked uncomfortable, no doubt related to what she was going to say. "So… I'm nearly 960 years old, in forty years I'll reach my 1000th birthday."

He listened to her quietly, having stopped to eat.

"See, when an Apostle reaches that age, they have to ascend."

Ascend… wait. The young man's eyes widened as he finally understood the meaning of the words the Prince had said upon their first encounter, "Ask the child how much time she has left". Now it made all sense, Boethiah had been simply referring to how much was left before Rory would become a Goddess within her world and the way the latter had referred to the act, "they have to", meant that it was a natural part of her world. Then of course, it brought the Battlemage another question, if all the "Garden's" Gods were ascended Apostles, where was the original creator? More questions… and I doubt she knows either

"Then the reason you wanted to know about our Goddess of Love is because…" he paused. That was for that? "you're going to become a Goddess of Love yourself?"

The demi-goddess didn't immediately reply, looking away and instead fidgeting nervously with her fingers. "... yeah."

A small silence fell between them.

"See," she difficulty explained, "when an Apostle ascends they can claim a minor aspect from their God for themselves. Emroy technically governs love so… here we go."

It did make sense, of course a question that could be asked was why choosing love and not another aspect? Someone had to be blind to not see there was a good motive to push her in that direction but what?

"Cyrus, can I ask you a personal question?"

He swallowed the meat he was eating before nodding. "You can."

"Did… did you ever fall in love with someone?"

The Apostle blinked in surprise, she was certain to have seen him tighten his fists. So he is capable of showing emotions

Did I ever fall in love? He closed his eyes. The way it was phrased it meant romantic love, not platonic love. Did he ever love someone that way? Memories rushed back to him, painful memories. Then he remembered he still had the letter, her letter, but he hadn't even opened it. He clenched his teeth, he hated how he was feeling right now, he needed to be on a mission, not here. It was wrong. That's when he realized Rory was still waiting for her answer.

"I guess I did, once. That's all I'm going to say about it," he replied in a very cold tone.

He got up from his chair rather abruptly. "If you'll excuse me, I need to go to... train." He left soon after.

She had no idea what in the Underworld had just happened. One moment he was usual emotionless self, the next… Did his relationship end badly?

Then again, what did she know about it? She sighed, looking at her plate with sadness. I've never been able to fall in love and I don't think I ever will

Falmart, rural countryside of Italica

A series of lightning bolts hit dummies made of stone. The elemental attacks cracked against them, leaving marks on the stone.

Caranya breathed calmly. Her eyes suddenly glowed light blue as she unleashed a single strike, this time directly from the sky. As it hit its target, the resulting explosion engulfed them. When the smoke was cleared, she was able to observe the remains of the dummies, reduced to mere rubble.

That was a good warm up, she thought as she stretched her arms.

She had spent the entire morning using her knowledge in Mysticism to set up a sanctuary within the city. Thanks to it, anyone knowing the "Recall Intervention" spell or had a scroll on it could teleport directly back to friendly territory where the closest sanctuary was, if needed.

With a hand gesture, the young woman telekinetically lifted the dummies' remains before reassembling them and then used some alteration magic to mold them into a giant golem like form. Gazing at her creation, she started to wonder.

It reminds me of an Atronach… maybe I should ask Jing to help make a few of them to bolster our numbers… I need to check with her on our tools for that

They hadn't received any new instructions from Tamriel and the wait was becoming unbearable for her. But, truthfully, the sanctuary's installation, her current practicing and even her latest suggestion were just excuses to take her mind of something else now that she hadn't orders to think about. And she had a lot going on inside her head.

First there was the continued occupation of Italica, even if it was barely acknowledged between the support they had garnered from the locals. The quick resettling of the Coda's villagers within the suburbs had already resolved the short lived refugee crisis (if it could be called that). Adding to that, the city reopening meant they weren't going to be facing a shortage of resources despite the deployment of a century and additional Knights from High Rock. So it was pretty much fixed.

Then there was the whole "Prince of Plots" and Cyrus debacle. She let out a sigh while thinking of it. Now she knew her friend could handle himself despite… well his taciturn attitude. No, the problem lied with what the higher ups were to decide to do about it, which she had no idea about and that worried her.

She concentrated and cast another spell at the golem statue, this time to turn the stone into hard metal.

But there was another matter that concerned her greatly, namely Tuka. She shook her head with sadness. What were they gonna do with her? Thanks (or not in this case) to the girl's unique biology, she couldn't be given to be adopted by a local family. There were the Dark Elves of course but even in the event they were to regain their home… they were living underground and the young "High Elf" would never fit within their society. They needed to find another enclave of her people, but where? The Altmer wasn't willing to ask her as of now.

And finally there was what she had read in her letter. She had wanted to talk him about

Caranya shook her mind out of her thoughts before closing the gap between her and the statue to inspect it by passing her hand over it. The spell she had used had hardened the structure enough to her liking and so she used it again in conjunction with her telekinesis to create more of those statues.

Cyrus needed to clear his mind after the conversation with Rory. It wasn't right to leave like that but he needed it. It's not that the question had angered him, no, it was something else. He was barely starting to face his past but talking about that when it was still happening right now and had no right answer… because it was all about that, not having the right answer, perhaps there was none. It was eating him.

Meditation wouldn't help this time but practicing his magic would. The Shadow Legion had set up a special training area separated from the rest camp to this goal.

He breathed calmly, concentrating himself, casting a summoning spell. His Flesh Atronach emerged from a portal, growling threateningly. His master planted his staff on the ground before igniting his fists in flames.

The Altmer channeled a powerful telekinesis spell into her hands before hitting one of the statues she made. She grunted from the effort exerted as she used her will to crush it.

The Atronach raised his mace-arm in defense to protect itself from a slash of fire. Cyrus merely runned in circles around him, sending more and more fire blasts against the Golem to tire it out.

Caranya telekinetically pulled up another dummy by clenching and raising up her fists. She brutally separated them.

"Nyeeeehhh...AAAAh!"

The structure was ripped apart by the strength of her spell.

The necromantic summon had now gone on the offensive while its master protected himself by raising his guard. A wall of fire suddenly appeared between them, burning the creature.

A ball of pure concentrated lightning cracked within the Battlemage Captain's hands. She took aim at the remaining statues. A large lightning beam hit one of the stone structures before spreading the others, disintegrating them all.

The Atronach had finally crossed the line of flames separating it from the Necromancer though not without sustaining several burning injuries. It extended its right hand, the one with metal claws, to grab unto the Cyrod who was still in guard position. As the creature was about to reach him, the Battlemage suddenly extended his arms, unleashing a powerful firestorm. Caught unprepared, the flesh Golem was hit with the full force of the blast, reducing it to nothingness.

The sudden sound of hand clapping made Caranya turn around.

She had the surprise of seeing Tuka congratulating her. "That was incredible!"

"How long were you here?"

The girl pointed her finger towards the city. "I left to wander a bit, I had enough of being inside. I saw a lightning strike from afar but there was no storm so I put two and two. I didn't want to disturb you so I didn't say anything until now." Her blue eyes sparkled. "I wish my magic was that powerful."

Oh yeah, that reminds me, "I've never seen you using it much, what can you do aside enchanting your arrows?"

"Well I can put people to sleep and even summon lightning from the sky like you, ma'am!" the young elf answered by imitating the Imperial salute.

The Altmer smirked behind her helmet before speaking. "That's actually quite impressive."

"W-well I-I'm not actually that good!" she replied with a blush. "Summoning lightning is very straining for me."

Caranya didn't know if she had to find it cute or to groan at the girl's blatant crush on her, she wasn't even capable of hiding it. Why do girls keep falling for me I wonder?

"I actually heard Master Cato and Lelei were training around here."

The Altmer raised a brow. That could be interesting to see. "And where did you hear they were exactly?"

The teenager pointed to another isolated part of the countryside. "I think it was here."

"Well then, let's go see them."

Cyrus breathed calmly before stretching himself. His control over his fire spells hadn't diminished at all.

"Good demonstration of your skills, Battlemage Cyrus, though the drill type was a little too reckless for my taste," a familiar voice said behind him.

He turned around to see Mei smiling at him. He instantly extended his arm to hit his chest, saluting her. "Ma'am"

"At ease, soldier. I'm here to transmit you your new orders. You are to come with me, you'll be serving as an escort for Princess Piña, Lady Beefeater and I when we go visit several prisoners this afternoon."

He raised a brow. "What about Lady Rory?"

Mei waved her hand to shut his concerns down. "Do not worry, we found someone else to act as her caretaker."

Meanwhile, somewhere else in the camp

"And that's a Dwemer sphere. Note how it moves around," Ghorshka explained to a captivated Rory as she showed her the automaton.

"This is so cool!" the Apostle exclaimed as her eyes glinted. She then gazed at the wheelchair the young Orc was sitting on then back to the sphere. "And you never thought of replacing your wheels with a sphere instead?"

"Once. Then I promised to myself : 'Never again'."

Hope this doesn't backfire on us when she starts riding a sphere or whatever she does if she feels bored, the Battlemage mused as he walked with the Councilor.

"As I said, don't worry about it," Mei said as she seemed to guess his thoughts. "You aren't supposed to be a caretaker, this was an exception concerning this case. But you were correct in identifying that she was vital to understand the workings of the other world. By the way, did you manage to uncover anything new?"

He gave her a small nod. "I did, Ma'am. I'll address a full report on what I learned. Suffice to say it raises a lot of questions."

Her lips spread into a warm smile. "Good, I knew you wouldn't disappoint."

He acknowledged her praise with a small nod. Even though he wasn't showing it, coming from her the praise meant a lot to him.

They left the Shadow Legion isolated encampment to enter the wider camp, still bustling with activity.

"Actually Ma'am, there's something that I've been meaning to ask," he began.

"Yes?"

"I'm just genuinely curious as to why, a Battlemage like me, is to serve as an escort to a foreign imperial Princess. Isn't it highly unorthodox?"

It was new for him, questioning orders like that. Well not actually questioning per se since he was going to follow them, he just didn't understand why. He knew why he was really there and he was sure the people who asked for him knew he knew, they also knew Rory could give valuable information to him hence why they had validated his suggestion of making her come here. But what about the Princess?

"It is," Mei finally conceded. "Especially since you're more of a 'field soldier' but you see… we need a reliable eye on her."

A reliable eye?

"I don't get it," he bluntly stated. "What about you?"

"I am a politician as well as a soldier. When I'm not in armor, honeyed words are my weapons. You know that."

He nodded, seeing where she was getting at. "You hope she might get less formal around me?" Seeing a small nod of confirmation, he continued. "I'm a 'by the book' soldier, you really think she would relax her guard around me?"

"You saved her life, did you not?" she made him recall. "Do not underestimate the consequences of your actions."

That made him pause for a while, not because of the Princess but because the statement was more truthful for him than Mei could even imagine.

"Captain Caranya…" Tuka started.

"Yes?" the woman replied.

The teenager stopped in her tracks, looking slightly unsure before looking back at the older woman, "I had a discussion earlier with Sir Black-Scales about his people, how he explained that he was only an…" she stumbled on the word, "Argonian? Right, That's the word! Anyway, that being an Argonian wasn't what defined him, I understand it's the same with you. Is that why you don't want to speak of the other Altmer?"

The Battlemage Officer froze. Here we go. In retrospect, she should have seen it coming. It made sense that Tuka wished to know more about Altmeri society since they were elves like her (of course, they actually weren't but she didn't know that part). "Yes, it is."

The girl tilted her head. "You know nothing about them? I am just curious to hear about long lost cousins."

Caranya felt a bitter taste invade her mouth. Talking about the Summerset Isles wasn't on her list of things she wanted to do, it put her in a sour mood. She let herself drift about the last time she had a deep conversation about the subject.

"You're being harsh about them, Cara," Cyrus said to her.

"Harsh? I am being harsh? Are we talking about the people who abandon their children at the slightest imperfection?" she had replied with strength, visibly upset.

"I know," he had tried diplomatically, "I'm just saying you can't just paint an entire society as complicated as their own into being simply 'bad', let alone a society that old."

She clenched her teeth before fuming. "How can you even defend them? According to traditional Altmeri society, you're little more than an animal and I shouldn't even be speaking to you! Let alone be friends! People were fleeing the Isles long before the current Thalmor rose to power!"

"But what about their sciences that are the basis of our society? What about their preservation of Aldmeri as a tongue? What about all their accomplishments?" he enumerated. "Is their society toxic? Yes, I do not deny it and I would abhor living in it. But a bunch of pricks didn't just join together one day and decided to form a club for people like them. Altmeri society being like this has its own reasons and we can't dismiss it easily, not when they partially achieved their goals."

"About being pricks?"

He crossed his arms over his chests before sighing. "You're being childish because you can't dismiss my point."

"And you're being a fool because you are unwilling to see the truth!" she snapped back at him.

"What truth?" he asked by waving his arms. "Is there any civilization in Tamriel who doesn't have blood on its hands aside maybe the Iron Orcs? Us Cyrods went from a newly liberated people to our Thalmor equivalent ruling Cyrodiil via a populist coup in the span of a few centuries."

"And every civilization tends to change over time! Nords aren't rampaging through Merish lands anymore, Dunmer banned slavery, Orcs are universally considered people. Everyone but Altmeri society who is still stuck in their lost past to the point they entrusted the power to the Thalmor!"

He was going to reply that it was normal for a society who ideologically reviled change but refrain himself from doing it. "You know… from a Merish perspective, it wasn't that long ago that a madman decided to unleash an engine of mass destruction over their Isles."

She gaped in shock.

"Don't mistake me, the Thalmor are evil, we know that. But they didn't come out of a vacuum. The Septim Empire was one man vanity project. Sure, it spread racial equality before the law and ended up eradicating slavery in Morrowind. But even as pro-Empire as we are, let's not act like a lot of the good things that happened weren't in spite of it."

She was still staring at him quietly. He took that as a sign to continue.

"You know, I read the Third Edition of the Pocket Guide of the Empire a while back. You know what was written about the Summerset Isles in it? Altmer were developing an 'identity crisis'. It was coming, Cara. The 'Beautiful' heralded this."

"They were fighting for a better society," she corrected weakly, almost as if she lacked conviction.

"A better society?" he almost spat. "They murdered a young princess to make a statement! What difference is there between them and the Thalmor on that matter? Just two faces of the same coin."

She chose to look away from him.

"I don't get it, Cara. I know you despise the Beautiful as much as I do, why are you so willing to defend them now?"

She didn't answer him, she didn't want to.

"Why are you being so hateful about Altmeri society? It's crap all you want, sure, but they are not Ayleids."

She finally spun around, her lips shaking. "You know how things would be if I was living in their society. I would never have had the possibility of knowing you, Cyr', instead having been taught to look down upon Men. Why? Because that's how it is there, Thalmor or no Thalmor."

He tried to open his mouth to say something but found himself unable to do so.

Instead he crossed the distance separating them, tenderly cupping her head with his hands before bringing her closer until their foreheads touched.

They stayed like that for a moment, completely quiet.

"I know," he finally said without breaking the hug, "and there's not one day without telling myself I'm glad it isn't the case, no matter how selfish it is."

"It's not selfish, it's love."

"Love can be selfish too."

"Maybe…" she replied with uncertainty. "I'm sorry I got so upset about this."

"I'm sorry too. But we're family, sometimes we fight among ourselves, that's the way it is. But when the whole world is against us, we always have each other back."

Yes, we do…

"Ma'am?"

The Atlmer snapped back to reality upon hearing those words. "Sorry, I was thinking of something else." She turned her head to the girl. "You were more or less right, the reason I don't speak of them is because I don't think I actually know enough to tell you about them."

That's what he would have wanted her to say. Maybe he was kind of right about me being too harsh.

Somewhere between Italica and the pass through of the Mountains

A group of a few of dozens of armored riders rode at a quick pace on the road coming from the city of the Formal Clan.

Hamilton wondered if she hadn't been too optimistic when she said to the Princess she would reach the Capital in two days. For all she knew going through the pass would take longer than usual if the weather started to degrade. Or maybe not and she was worrying for nothing.

One of the Nirnians that accompanied them made signs to stop their horses.

As she approached them, Hamilton recognized their "escort" leader, "Dame" Éléonore.

"Why did we stop?" Panache, who was near her, asked the woman.

She briefly pointed them to another of her Knight. The two girls immediately noticed the falcon on his shoulder.

"We have reasons to believe we're heading straight up into an ambush," Éléonore explained to them.

The bird saw that and warned his master?

"Are you sure? Who would be stupid enough to attack a convoy of Knights of that size?" Panache questioned in disbelief.

Who indeed? Someone either stupid, brave or… dangerous. Piña's emissary nodded. Even though they had thought they could rely on the size of their group to avoid highwaymen, it was entirely possible some would think they had what it took to subdue them. And maybe they do, she mused, the reminder of Italica's near destruction being still fresh.

"We should send scouts ahead to know what will be running into," she decided. "If it is true, we'll be prepared to meet these foes."

"If you wouldn't mind," Éléonore began, "I have the perfect riders suited for this task."

Hamilton exchanged a glance with Panache before the two shared a nod. "Very well."

Éléonore sent only two of her Knights, a man and a woman. Unlike most of their comrades, those two were spourting bows as their ranged weapon instead of crossbows and for a good reason. They were actually twin Bjoulsae River-horse folk** and hailed from Evermore where they had been knighted. And both were amongst the best marksmen she had ever ridden with. Unlike their comrades, their horses weren't wearing any armor at all to be faster.

Sure enough, a group of armed men, demihumans of various kinds (mostly Goblins and pigmen) as well as robed figures, blocked their path. The way they were acting… they weren't here to share nice words with travelers.

The twins shared a knowing look before taking and arming their bows. Before anyone could react, several of the mysterious robed individuals found themselves incapacited when arrows pierced their skulls. The horsemen ran circles around the would be ambushers, thinning out their ranks before retreating while their enemies were still hot on their trail, screaming for blood.

The two horsemen suddenly stopped and turned around seemingly cornered and facing their opponents in some sort of last stand. As the bandits reached them, the ground suddenly shook.

The Knights, who had been merely waiting far from the side of the road, had chosen that moment to charge as agreed by the plan. The outlaws were taken by surprise and most ended up dead before they could understand they were now the one being ambushed.

The few spellswords that had been accompanying them had been the most frightening, their mounts bursting flames, lightning or even frost as they rammed through the enemy ranks. Hamilton briefly stopped to watch them after she ran her sword through a large axe-wielding bandit. She definitely didn't want to have those people as enemies.

The battle was over as soon as it began.

"Seems they weren't that dangerous in the end," Panache commented as she tried to clean her spear from its splattered blood.

"Maybe… maybe not," one of the twins, the man, said before jumping from his mount.

He searched for something among the dead before dragging one of the robed figure bodies to examine it to see if he and his sister's instincts had been right.

Upon removing the hood, several Tamrielians' faces turned to shock. The figure appeared to be a female, very pale, her head shaved but more importantly was the numerous scarifications her face was spourting : daedric letters.

Éléonore swore an unintelligible Bretic curse before confirming the others' suspicions. "Daedric cultists"

Not far from here, two silhouettes were observing the scene.

"You saw what I saw?"

"Magic and very powerful at that."

"Since when the Princess' bitches can do that?"

"I have no idea but it would be best if we start laying low and try to learn as much as we can before reporting anything."

"Agreed"

*Lizardmen : Wild creatures looking vaguely like Argonians whom they were once thought to be related but further studies demonstrated it to be false. Although capable of advanced tool crafting, Lizardmen remain very limited in their intellect compared to Goblins, their only known way of communication being through shouts and screams when they locate a potential prey. As a result, Argonians have taken it as an insult of being called Lizardmen.

** Bjoulsae River-horse folk : also known as the Horsemen Tribes of the Bjoulsae River, they are not to be confused with the Horse-Folk of Rivenspire. For one, they aren't of Yokudan origins but are purely indigenous to Tamriel, probably from one of the numerous Nedic tribes living in Southern High Rock or Northern Hammerfell. It is said that Evermore was founded by them and as a result the Kingdom has kept good relations with the tribes since then.