Talrikir had plenty of time to think while they walked. It was peaceful, and more importantly, he was able to stay mostly out of the conversation the other two had. He had plenty of time to observe them and the surroundings.

The hilly countryside was beautiful; The looming mountains and their snowy peaks, the plains filled with grass and wildflowers, the river with its bubbling falls and fish occasionally jumping into the air. It had been a long time since he had seen so much life. He wished his friends could see it with him, wished that Kzaarae was here. He wished he didn't feel so alone.

Those were thoughts for himself though, because he was alone, in all the ways that mattered anyway. Even his magic seemed to be trying to leave him, judging by the flares of pain when he tried even the most minor uses of his magicka. He had no friends here. In this world, as things stood, he was the only person he could count on…or maybe not.

Heracles, even being an argonian of all races seemed an honorable sort. He was friendly enough as well, once they had fought together. He was kind of like Kahnlee, outwardly a bit standoffish, but nice if you knew where to look. He wasn't anywhere near as dangerous though. He might make a good friend.

Hadvar was…different. Talrikir couldn't help but feel that he wasn't going to be with them for much longer. He didn't put much thought into him after reaching that conclusion.

They walked for a few hours down a cobblestone path before reaching a fork in the road. It was getting rather late by then.

Hadvar said, "We're getting pretty close to the Guardian Stones. We should make camp for the night. Heracles, you've got the axe, go and get us some firewood. I'll set up a camp. Talrikir, do you think you can get us something to eat with that bow?" Heracles had walked off and started looking for a suitable tree to cut down.

"I've got it. Give me an hour."

An hour or so later Talrikir and Hadvar were sitting around a campfire with a few rabbits roasting on sticks. Next to their small camp were three large stones with rather elaborate designs. Heracles was studying one with a carving of a figure with a large ax. Talrikir sensed ancient magic within them. Hadvar seemed to know about those stones… "So what are these stones anyway? They feel old."

"No one knows. They've been here longer than nords have, or at least that's what pa used to say. There's a myth that they give out blessings but I'm not sure if I believe-"

Hadvar stopped talking when the carvings lit up in bright blue before shooting a beam of magicka straight up. Heracles stood there, frozen, just staring at the beam of light, one clawed hand covering the carving of an ax.

Talrikir idly grabbed one of the spits and pointed with the rabbit, "So, I'm going to guess they don't normally do that then?"

Hadvar was staring slack-jawed at the stones for a long moment before he managed to speak. "No. No, they do not." He took a closer look at the particular stone Heracles had touched. "I've never even heard of them doing such a thing. To be blessed by the warrior. The gods must have their eyes on you friend."

Heracles was looking himself over in front of the stone but stopped after Hadvar spoke. Turning back to the fire he said. "The gods nearly let my head roll. I don't want anything to do with gods." He walked over and sat on a stump around the flame, before taking a rabbit for himself. Hadvar frowned and took the last rabbit. The camp was quiet after that…

Later, the other two had gone to sleep, with Talrikir on watch. Alone, he pulled a small black cube out of one pocket. It was time to find out what in oblivion was going on. He hesitated for a moment, before flaring magicka into the object. It took him a few bursts, the pain was too much to recharge the device all at once.

The light blinked a few times before the object shifted into a thin and flat square with a mirror-like finish on one side. Then the smooth side lit up with scrolling text and runes. Talrikir was relieved to see it working, it was already worrying enough that it had run out of power; the charge should have lasted for centuries.

Finally, the magic stabilized and the user's interface came online. He tapped at it a few times to start the recalibration process and the tablet began to hum and grow warm as it oriented itself along the wheel. A few minutes later it gave him a result that made his blood run cold.

Orienting…. Position in time found….. Position in space found….Checking…..Checking…..Confirmed

Position in Time: Year 1530, Dragon Break in progress, timeline unstable
Position in space : Mundus, Nirn, Tamriel, Skyrim
Accuracy: 88%

Nine hundred and seventy years. It had been almost a millennium since…Since Lilmoth burned. Since his comrades had died to give them just a little bit more time to get everyone out. Since his home was destroyed.

He cut that line of thought. There was one more thing to check. It was a short set of inputs to switch to the diagnostic for the Oblivion array.

Scanning….Scanning…Verifying results…Verified

Array status: functioning
Occupants: 85% accounted for
Scout capsules: 30/31 accounted for
Anomalous readings detected - Show more information?

Fifteen percent, Fifteen percent of his people were gone. Dammit. He pulled up the extra information. Maybe there was good news there at least.

Scout capsules 30/31 accounted for
Life signs: none detected, reality barriers nonfunctional.

Array cohesion degrading to 60% expect minor errors in oblivion tethers. Stability continues to decline.

Talrikir refreshed the scan several times. It was just too impossible to be true. And yet there it was. The scouting array had failed. All the pods had been stuck in Oblivion. Not a single survivor. No wonder they had been there for so long. Without anyone landing to pave the way… Never mind that the array system had started to collapse.

It would be up to him, and him alone he realized. He needed to establish a place that they could rebuild. A place where they could call home, that was his mission. That was when he finally cried. For himself, or maybe the dead. Maybe at what he would have to do. He didn't know.

He returned the tablet to its storage shape and put it away. He couldn't bear to look at it anymore.

A few hours later he woke Heracles for his watch and laid down himself. He lay there for some time, thinking about what he had learned, and what he could do. The stars were good company on such a lonely night.

Talrik'F felt underdressed, in his ornamental half plate; surrounded by nobles in the most ornate and over-complicated dress he had ever seen.

The ballroom was magnificent. The ceiling was arched tens of feet above the glittering aquamarine and emerald tiles. The walls were made of marble and covered in a mix of artwork and the various crests of the nobles of Lilmoth. Glowing panels set into the various surfaces of the room played complicated, yet incredibly dull music. He supposed it was meant to be some high society thing he would never understand.

There were so many people in the massive space. Like a festival indoors. Servers hurried between clusters of nobility offering various drinks and small things to eat. There was a large area in the center of various couples dancing or simply standing together for small talk. Never mind the enormous tables lined with every type of fine dining one could imagine. It was truly the very height of decadence.

Talrik'F wandered between the people, not wandering in any particular direction. He was a low soldier, only having recently been enlisted; only invited due to the uniqueness of his magic. Several of the nobles raised eyebrows or even scoffed at him openly once they saw the rank on his pauldron. He didn't belong here, not really.

It wasn't long before he found himself retreating to one of the balconies, a small space where he could find some peace. It was to his surprise then that he found one of the nobles looking miserable with a glass of wine.

He was beautiful, with fur of the purest of white and light blue markings highlighting his features. The decorative armor, functional enough, and the sword at the man's hip caught his interest. Most of the nobility were wearing civilian clothes or useless trinkets meant to give off the impression of a warrior. This man, however, was ready for a fight. Even if he did look incredible.

The noble took a long drink of his wine, before setting the now-empty glass on the railing. Talrik'F took that as his opportunity to speak. "Needed a moment? Or do you just hate this type of thing as much as I do?"

The noble startled, his arm knocking the ornate glass down to the courtyards far below. They both watched for a moment as it tumbled onto the stones and broke with a small crash. He turned back to look at the other's face just in time to catch the flush of pink under his fur. Talrik'F couldn't help but smile.

"Sorry, I didn't think anyone else would be here. I'll go." He sounded hurt, and sad.

Talrik'F caught him by the hand as he turned to leave without thinking and said. "Want to talk about it?" That was stupid. What would someone like this want with him? He braced himself for the inevitable tongue-lashing.

Instead, the man seemed to truly look at him for the first time. His face shifted a bit before he spoke. "You don't want to hear it. Who would want to listen to the prince of all people whine about his life?"

He was in shock. The prince! He was talking to the actual prince of Lilmoth. He recovered and made a show of looking around. "W-well, I don't seem to have anything better to do."He idly flicked his ears out in a display before gesturing to them. "And I was given these ears to listen. What's got you so upset?" Stupid, he clearly wants to be left alone. What are you thinking?

He was surprised when the prince laughed. They gravitated back to the railing, standing at the edge, and looking out into the dusky sunset.

He sighed again, his darker thoughts banishing even that slight hint of levity from his features. "It- It's the arranged marriages." He looked out over the balcony as he spoke. "Father tells me I need to agree to one this time. I've put it off a few times now. They're all just so-" He sighed. "I don't know. I just can't see myself with any of them. I always figured I'd find someone I liked, but I can't stand any of them." He started to gesture from there as he talked, the wild emotions finally being let out. "The way they talk about people like playthings, and trinkets to be fought over. It's horrible! How am I supposed to marry one of them? Let alone sire an heir. What a sad excuse for a prince I am. Can't even be a prince charming correctly."

Talrik'F felt bad for him. He was a con'screept himself. He could sympathize with getting told what to do and when. He hesitated a second before placing a hand on the other male's shoulder. "Yeah, it's never fun when other people make your life choices for you."

The prince flushed a bit. "I'm sorry, I'm being rude. I'm Kzaarae of clan Kyne. What's your name?"

"Talrik'F of no clan, not so grand as Prince of Lilmoth I'm afraid. Just a con'screept here."

He wasn't sure how it had happened, but he spent the rest of what had been a dreadful social event talking with the prince. The woes of their lives, both being at the whims of others' plans for them was surprisingly relatable, given their differing status. They talked long into the night, and into a few cups before Talrik'F was summoned to leave. Soldiers had a set schedule after all.

"I hope things work out for you Kzaarae. Someone like you should be happy. It's time for me to go. Who knows maybe we'll see each other again?" He wasn't entirely sure he hadn't imagined the flash of disappointment on that beautiful face when he turned to leave. Probably just wishful thinking.

It was late and the festivities had begun to wind down. Majiimar maneuvered his way through the crowd of elites with the grace of a dancer. No small number of women, and even men turned to appraise him as he passed. He was sure to rate them in turn, a few even got their own teasing looks in return. He had the rest of the night to occupy once he was done after all.

Soon enough he had found his target. He was confused however to find him in a good mood. Unlike him, his friend had always hated parties, especially the ones he was obligated to appear at. This demanded investigating.

Majiimar slipped behind him and laid one arm out over the other noble's shoulders. "Kzaarae, you're smiling. What happened, did one of your potential consorts fall out of a balcony? Oh, no, I know, the king had a wardrobe malfunction and had to excuse himself early. Or, no, what about-"

The prince ducked to get out from under his arm, leaving him to stumble in place. "Would it kill you to greet people like a normal person?" The look he was getting was rather familiar. One eyebrow perched just so, with the ears straight up behind it.

He shrugged as he ran out in front of the prince and started walking backward through the halls. "It might, I'm a delicate soul, a fragile flower, a -"

"Giant pain in my rear."

"Only if you ask me to be." The wink was mandatory of course.

It spoke volumes of their history that the prince merely sighed at his flirting."Was there a point to this? Left." Majiimar changed course without looking, sliding around a drunken noble in garish colors. Orange, and purple on tan fur. yuck! "Or are you just practicing how annoying you can be?"

"Well, I thought I'd be taking your mind off of some miserable time so I prepared all of this material. You can't expect me to just forget all of it just because you're in a good mood for once?" He held one hand out over his heart for drama and fluttered his eyelashes.

The prince snorted. "I might be happier if you did."

"Wait, you're distracting me!" Kzarae tried for neutrality, but Majiimar knew him too well. "C'mon! You were happy. I never get to hear good news from you."

"If I tell you, you have to react like a normal person for once."

Majiimar laughed before miming a salute. "I will consider it for at least two seconds."

The unimpressed look was worth its metaphorical weight in gold. "That's the best I'm getting from you is- move left. Isn't it?" He stepped to his left around a servant carrying a pile of empty snack trays, before nodding vigorously. "Fine, okay- to your right. I talked to this guy at the ball. I found an empty balcony, one of the small ones. I just needed to be alone for a bit and-"

Majiimar watched his friend's face shift from a half-annoyed but fond scowl to a dopey smile as he talked. It couldn't be. Right?

"Well, he was looking for the same thing; gave me a hell of a scare at first. I wasn't paying attention and when he spoke I knocked one of the glasses off the balcony. I was going to leave, after that, but he stopped me."

The dumb grin was in full effect now and Majiimar knew his friend wasn't really in that hallway with him anymore, not really.

"He asked why I was upset, kinda like you but without making me want to strangle him first. And he listened, like really listened. And then we talked; I mean for hours. He made me forget about the stupid party and my obligations, even those terrible people I have to choose a mate from. It was nice. He had to go pretty early, soldiers don't get much choice, kinda like princes that way."

A con'screept, at a high society event, Kzarrae will likely never see him again. Majiimar decided to look through some records, and figure out what soldier was so special as to attend such an event. Once he figured that out, he could make certain arrangements.

In the present, however, it was time to tease his friend. "That's fantastic!"

Kzarae's face immediately changed abruptly into one of high alert, his ears raised high and pointed in separate directions.

Majiimar said, "I knew it would happen eventually. But I never expected it to happen now. It's a miracle is what it is. It would be simpler if he was a noble; going to be hard to make things work with a soldier."

"Do I even want to know what you're going on about now?"

"You're in love! I'm so happy for you." The blush that followed was incredible.

"What! No, you're getting the wrong idea, he's just a friend. A very handsome friend but- Shit."

Majiimar couldn't grin any wider if he tried. "See!" He slowed his pace to get closer and pulled at the other's attire. "We need to work on this, it's good but you need to be a knockout. You have the looks, we just need the clothes to match. Oh, I can't wait."

The prince pulled away and began to walk as fast as he could politely to get away. "No. We are not having this discussion and that is final."

Majiimar increased his pace to match and continued speaking. "I'll start sketching up some outfits. Do you have any idea where to take him out? I can offer a few, but I don't think you're looking to get to the Dibellan side of things so quickly."

Kzarae stopped where he stood before slowly turning around. Uh oh. "You have exactly three seconds to run, then I'm going to kill you." It was always impressive how calm he could be when he said things like this. Now was the time for begging, not introspection, though.

"Wait, wait. I'll stop. I swear." Majiimar raised his hands with the palms facing out, gesturing emphatically.

"One."