Rialyn and Heleria followed cautiously. Both still retained slight unease in their mind, although this was not particularly warranted.

The warriors walked behind them, silent and obedient, following their Ashkhan.

"Are we going to your wise woman?" - Rialyn said, trying to make eye contact with the dark elf in front of him.

"Yes." - He responded, avoiding the Dragonborn's gaze. The echoing bitterness of defeat still lingered in his voice. "Her yurt is to the north."

For now, Rialyn had time to look around the camp and notice more of the ashlanders. This was no large place; the tribe consisted of a few dozens of elves. Rialyn could only wonder if many did not survive to see to their adulthood. As they passed over the ashen lands, many eyes were at them. The Dunmer who lived there were not warriors but keepers.

Rialyn witnessed a young dark elf leaving his yurt, immediately standing frozen in his mesmerization at the guests. Perhaps he has never seen a yellow-skinned elf before, all the more reasons to be intrigued. Behind the tents, two tamers were busy doing their job. As they tended to a beast very similar to the one Rialyn and Heleria encountered before, one of them carefully fed the creature. At the same time, the other held his weapon in preparation. They did not talk, even to each other, as they saw their guests. This silence felt eerie. It was only broken by two more dunmer who pointed at the sky. They talked with an air of worry in their voices and soon retreated to their yurts. Rialyn felt the wind blowing on his skin. It seemed stronger with every second. Something was coming.

"Do you survive like this? Through constant travels?" - Rialyn looked at Darathen once again, this time with genuine interest.

"We do what we need to live and prosper, and that's all you need to know." - He spoke with negligence as his pace increased slightly. Heleria was the one to continue.

"They know how to live in these conditions better than anyone, as impactical as it is. Don't push him." - She added.

When they approached the lone yurt at the edge of this camp, Darathen gestured for them to wait. Four warriors circled Rialyn and Heleria while the Ashkhan entered the yurt. One wrong move and they'll attack.

"I really hope we are not wasting any time here…" - Heleria crossed her arms slowly.

"Think of it this way, they already allowed us to pass through most of their village. Whatever comes next, we are past failure."

"Fair enough…"

In the next instant, the Ashkhan left the yurt swiftly, stomping the ashen land. He seemed angry and confused as each muscle in his body tensed up. Still, he did his best to maintain calm.

"She wishes to speak with you…Without our watch." - He looked at Rialyn. "Go, we'll watch over your companion."

"She goes with me."

"She wasn't the one who won this duel."

"That's a wish of someone who did."

"You…So be it, but be quick!"

Rialyn and Heleria entered the tent only to witness a small but quite cozy environment. The place seemed filled with carpets and a few decorations on its set-up walls. The Dunmer woman sat in the center, her eyes were closed, and she kept a meditative pose, but when the travelers entered, she quickly changed her disposition. She invited them to sit as an intrigued smile emerged on the woman's face.

"Come here, let me see you." - She eyed Rialyn as the Dragonborn approached cautiously. "Yes, I see how you got the better of Darathen. Forgive him his impatience; he tries his best to defend the tribe and live up to his role…But you came for a reason, haven't you? I am Folosa. Sit down and be at home."

"I'm Rialyn…" - The Dragonborn was shocked by her politeness and friendliness, while Heleria seemed to expect such disposition. The librarian was first to sit on one of the carpets and continue to talk.

"He's a traveling hero, and I'm Heleria, his…Scribe, for lack of a better word." - Heleria explained with a slight stutter as she came up with the word.

"A pair of travelers, then…It's fortunate. The lone ones rarely ever survive out here." - Folosa smiled once again, looking over the two travelers. "But you should ease up and begin trusting each other a little more."

"What? We don't have any problems with that." - Heleria protested, only to be met with a quiet giggle on the wise woman's part.

"There's much I have seen over my years. Some things are just obvious to the eye…You sit apart from each other, and from Darathen's words, you have not been perfectly coordinated. Sometimes the small fires of conflict can forge a bond stronger than any simple friendship…But bring too much of it, and all bridges shall be burned."

"I'll take that into consideration, thank you very much…But I think we have something else to discuss, right, Rialyn?" - Heleria nudged him to continue, but the Dragonborn felt at peace here. A bizarre yet calming feeling, the feeling of home…How unusual. Heleria noticed his thoughtfulness and decided to carry on herself. "One thing, if I may. How can you still survive in such a place? There is no food or water, while the south has it all, especially in the cities. I think you can find a place in Vivec; why do you still continue to persist here?"

"A question all of us had to ask over our lives…Yet the answer is plain. These are the lands we roamed for generations, they may be harsh, now more than ever, but they are not lifeless. For us who can search, there is much to find, be it food, water, or purpose…We walk in the steps of our ancestors, as the last surviving tribe, and we won't allow it to dissipate." - She recounted with pride and pure joy in her voice. Not a sliver of doubt, but certainty which could make Rialyn jealous. Heleria seemed to understand as she sighed and calmed herself, trying to enjoy the same peace Rialyn could.

"You came from the south, I take it." - Folosa continued.

"From Vivec, though I hail from far away…" - Rialyn was the one to speak. His voice sounded calm yet eager. "We want to find the blade of Nerevar; it was left in Azura's sanctum by Nerevarine before he left this world, according to one of your legends."

"You know our legend? I never expected it to spread beyond the tribe." - For the first time, Folosa seemed surprised.

"I traveled quite a lot before, and this legend was one of the many ones I discovered." - Heleria said as she sighed. "Truth be told, I didn't believe it at first, but after certain…Developments I admit that I might have been wrong."

"Yes, Heleria and I know some version of it, but I would hear it from you all the same." - Rialyn declared confidently, ready to hear Folosa's tale.

"It's rare for an outsider to take an interest in our tale rather than that of the great houses…That was why I was intrigued." - Folosa closed her eyes and let out a deep breath, preparing to recount the legend. "An ancestral tale that ran for a number of generations tells of the fate of Nerevarine. Many believe it to come from wise woman Sonummu, who knew Nerevarine personally, although now no one knows for sure…She and many others perished after the eruption, leaving naught but their tales to latch onto." - She spoke with pain and soaring voice as Rialyn and Heleria listened in silence. The altmer woman seemed to be a little troubled, too. Mentioning the red mountain made her lose all disposition and just look at the ground, consumed by thought. Folosa continued.

"And yet the legend tells us that Nerevarine fulfilled the prophecy. He saved Morrowind from the plague of Voryn Dagoth and vanquished the false gods of the Tribunal. Thus was he rewarded by the lady of the stars with her blessing and recognition from people all across the land. Yet then…He could not find his purpose."- - As she spoke, the wind began to howl outside the yurt. "The world of mortals hailed him as a god, as an idol, all while he fulfilled his prophecy and had control over his fate. Freedom from his cell was not freedom from expectations and people's perceptions…And so de decided that there was no place for him in this world. Not as a man, only as an idol." - She spoke carefully as the storm outside became stronger. "Nerevarine asked Azura to repay for his service, and she obliged. He walked into her sanctum, the one where the prophecy was first told to him, never to leave the place…He is at peace now. Walking the endless halls of Moonshadow with Azura. And this was the end of his tale…So short was his time and so important the consequences."

This tale hit more than a few chords. Rialyn felt his heart aching as he heard of Nerevarine's end. He felt the same thing…Everything that Rialyn felt now uncertainty and inability to find his place in a world where his destiny has been fulfilled. The Dragonborn acknowledged that Nerevarine was just a man, like him. And when facing the same choice…He chose to abandon these people in favor of Oblivion. Was this his fate, too? No, not yet…Not yet.

"You recount it well…" - Heleria said with a dry voice. "Even I missed a few details last time I heard it."

"We are always happy to share our tales even if there are just a few who believe them." - Folosa stated before looking at the Dragonborn with her eyes full of concern as if the confidence dissipated in an instant. "Are you intent on going to the sanctum?"

"Indeed."

"There might be no sanctum left at all…It was too close to the mountain. Would you still try?"

"Well, we've come this far." - Rialyn responded with pride. Perhaps Nerevarine chose to leave this world and his people.

Folosa seemed delighted as she took something from one of the bags behind her.

"You are driven by faith just like we are…Ironic. But if that's your choice, you might have some need for this." - The wise woman handed Rialyn a drawn map of Vvardenfell.

"This was one of the maps our tribe uses to travel, but we have spares…If you are to venture to the north, you will need one." - Folosa pointed to the cavern to the northeast of the red mountain. "This is where the remnants lie."

"Thank you…" - Rialyn did not have much to say as Darathen stormed into the yurt. His entrance was followed by the howling wind outside.

"Another storm, Folosa. I'll go check on others but before that…Are you done? Can I show them out?" - He threw a suspicious glance at Rialyn and Heleria, only to be met with Folosa shaking her head.

"We can't force them to go now. It's too dangerous. I believe they should stay until it's over."

"Are you serious? After all they've…"

"They entertained me. I suppose I can repay them in kind." - Folosa looked at the travelers. Both seemed a little on edge about accepting the offer, even though they knew it to be better for them. "Stay in this yurt for a while…I have places to go."

Well, no point in denying the generous offer.

The encounter proved much more relaxed and beneficial than Rialyn expected. After noticing the disposition of Darathen and his warriors, he was expecting a cold welcome from a tribe that barely trusted outsiders. The wise woman seemed friendly and cooperative, ready to tell them what she knew about Nerevarine. Admittedly, there wasn't that much he learned from her. This legend was not new…But he heard of what they perceived to be Nerevarine's motives, giving him a reminder that he was a mortal with his own dreams and desires, just like him…And just like him, people did not see it this way.

The wise woman left Rialyn and Heleria alone in this yurt. They both lay on the carpets, feeling tired after the journey. Rialyn welcomed the change; he needed time to think, and so did Heleria. She looked up and barely moved. Rialyn wondered what she thought. Was it doubt about her choice to come with him? Was she questioning their reason for even doing so? Well, he was questioning a lot too. Heleria moved her eyes slightly and noticed that Rialyn was watching.

"You know, it wasn't half bad." - She smiled playfully. "The map seems more detailed than mine, and some entertainment is welcome…So I'll forgive you on this one." - Heleria looked into his eyes as she moved her head to the side. She wasn't angry, and it was pleasing to see her so relaxed.

"Next time, you could try traveling among the desert storm and avoid any inconvenient "forgiveness."" - Rialyn smirked lightheartedly, unexpectedly for himself. Taking a break made him a bit more receptive to humor, especially here…

"On, not that I'm complaining. I didn't plan on withering my eyes just yet." - Heleria parred with a giggle before sighing and changing her look to a more relaxed one. She looked at Rialyn with tenderness in her eyes, realizing that he had done much. "In all seriousness, though…Thank you. I know I was skeptical the your "might makes right" thoughts, but here it was the right call."

"So you admit that there is some merit in fighting?"

"Well, it's all context, I suppose. I saw too many overdo it."

"I have nothing to worry about, then."

"Well…"

"Oh, don't even begin." - Rialyn looked away to hide his smile. Were it anyone else, he would find this teasing annoying, but with her…He didn't really mind. "You know, when was the exact time you came here before? I take it the Ashkhan and wise woman were different?"

"Yes, they were. Despite their survival, I don't think life expectancy here is that high…But it was a few decades ago. The khan was…Peculiar in his own way, but the woman was cooperating enough, although Folosa beats her on that front."

"Was it the exact same story, then?" - Rialyn wondered.

"Mostly, yes…Though I don't remember her talking about Nerevarine's difficult relationship with his people after the prophecy. I suppose…It might hit a little close for you."

"I don't understand…" - Rialyn sighed. "He was the hero of his own people, the one they knew…And yet still he felt unfulfilled."

"Does that surprise you? If you get tired of this idolization, imagine what he must have felt. Being a hero is nice and all, but everyone will get tired of it…He was one as long as he needed to help the people of Morrowind. Then, he thought it to be enough."

"Not enough for me yet." - Rialyn said, assured. "There is much work to do, and idolization helps people to have hope…If that's what it takes, then so be it. It might be hard to combine one's life as a mortal and as a hero, but I will try."

"Your choice…" - Heleria said before taking a deep yawn. "You know, with how early we left, I didn't get much sleep, and now that we are practically stranded here, I'd wish you good "night.""

"Good night; you'll need to sleep before we continue."

"You too, probably."

"Yes, of course…"

Rialyn always had to remember that Heleria had more need for sleep than him. The vampirism did not show itself just yet…He could only hope that it would stay this way until they found the blade. It was chaotic in its hunger, but Rialyn made sure to be as full as possible before moving on. He never knew when it would resurface…Perhaps Heleria was right. A bit of rest will help.

And as the slumber encroached, another nightmare unfolded before the Dragonborn.

He wished to avoid this and prayed to never again have to witness such painful memories. Yet his hopes seemed to stray even further from him than his goal of uncovering the truth.

Flashes of the past rushed before him, bringing him closer to the dreadful day of separation, a day of his rebirth. Rialyn remembered how Inaaru and he remained targeted in Bruma after Erstenn and her parents were gone. The hunt for heretics continued, and each day became all the more terrifying. The Dominion patrols roamed the town, followed every trail forcibly uncovered every secret. Rialyn and Inaaru had no one but each other. This dread brought them closer than ever. Rialyn wished it could have gone differently, but there was no way anymore…

They knew they had to run, but they did not know where. They talked to the few beggars that knew Inaaru's parents, desperately scrambling for any pieces of information. After all, those people have been under their protectorate. They were bound to know something…All they got was rumors. Rumors of them retreating to the north along with those they managed to free from the city. They said the road lay to Skyrim's border, at an abandoned imperial fort where they hid for now…There was no proof of it, but this was their only hope.

They set out to the northern lands, unsure if they would ever return to their town or even if they wanted. Many hunts made them receptive and resilient to cold, so this path should not have posed in problem. Yet in the back of their minds lingered a thought that they might find nothing…That all of this will bring them to the wilderness, where they will fall prey to beasts they did not encounter before. Still, this fate was preferable to becoming a Thalmor prisoner.

And so the image brimmed before Rialyn's eyes…As they stood at the entrance of a fort, hoping to see some familiar faces, to find refuge, at least for a night. All they found was a pile of corpses scattered around the fort. Snow was tainted with crimson prints leaving a dreadful mark upon it. Inaaru and Rialyn both had this thought in the back of their minds, preparing for the worst while hoping for the best…Well, it proved pointless in the end, if only for a glimmer of hope.

"Damn it…" - Rialyn couldn't say much; he clenched his fist as the images of the slaughter that occurred here rushed through his mind. Inaaru remained frozen as she realized that her parents had most likely been dead. That after a long separation, only to be met with this. The dream would not cease. On the contrary, its sting plunged itself deeper into Rialyn's mind.

"I'm sorry…Maybe they are still alive; they might have taken prisoners." - Rialyn spoke with a shaking voice while still trying to appear strong. But calming Inaaru was pointless. She understood the situation very well.

"We need to look for them, now!" - She rushed ahead to check the bodies.

Rialyn helped her do the gruesome job; having to look at bloodied and mutilated corpses was horrifying enough. Rialyn went to hunts and stood over many animal corpses together with Inaaru, but seeing real people slaughtered…It felt disgusting.

All of the dead were Nords or Imperials; however, there was no sign of any dark elves here. This gave some hope, no matter how twisted it was.

"Argh…Please…Help.." - A quiet and suffering voice rang to Rialyn's right. As he looked at him, the dark elf noticed a wounded nord lying among the corpses. His skin was cut open with a very sharp blade. He could barely move in the puddle of blood beneath him. Rialyn rushed to the survivor's aid.

"Inaaru, there is someone alive here!" - He shouted so his beloved could hear him. As she ran towards him, the blacksmith approached the shivering man, trying to examine his wounds. He was never good at first aid, but it was obvious enough to anyone that these scars ran very deep. Soon, Inaaru approached. She kneeled hastily to examine the Nord; the woman grabbed her satchel, reaching for herbs and potions. Inaaru was eager to help, but she wanted to know the truth.

"They ca…The…" - The man tried to speak, but his voice got interrupted by his cough, covering his mouth in blood.

"Don't speak. It will make it worse…Drink this." - She gave him a light potion that would at least ease the pain and give him a few more moments. As the Nord drank it, he screamed in wild agony. The potion must have been burning him from the inside. Rialyn was no stranger to that feeling.

"It burns! It…" - He breathed desperately, grasping every moment of life he could. When the effects of the potions hit, he could speak again.

"What happened?" - Inaaru asked as she prepared to treat his wounds.

"The Dorens got us here, told they could get us to Windhelm tomorrow…But the elves came, they found out and murdered everyone they saw…"

"And what about Dorens? What about my parents?!" - Inaaru still cringed to hope as her heart burned.

"They took them, prisoners, I think…I couldn't see much, not after they attacked…"

"Thank the divines!" - Inaaru sighed in relief, as out of place as it was. Rialyn understood…The same hope emerged within him as well. Perhaps there is still hope. Perhaps they can still find them.

"Took them to where?" - Rialyn asked.

"I…Don't know…"

"Maybe there's an outpost close to here…Or they've gone directly to Bruma." - Rialyn suggested as he gazed at Inaaru. "We should go in case they return."

"We can't leave him here." - Inaaru shook her head.

"You won't be of much aid in these conditions, not after what he went through. I'm sorry, but we can't do anything here." - The dark elf shook his head.

"My parents risked everything to protect these people and get them to Skyrim…Just give me some time. I'll try to be quick. We can help him…I know." - She said hopefully.

"To Oblivion with you…Fine. Do you need help?"

"Thank you."

Her smile was the most striking image Rialyn remembered from that day…For it was the last time he saw her smile. This hope, this excitement over being able to help someone, this was not something Rialyn ever felt, but he wanted, at times. Still, being near Inaaru allowed him to share this excitement and pleasure…If only it lasted.

Minutes passed, dozens of them, soon, an hour was about to strike, and yet Inaaru still tried. All potions and herbs she gave for one life, Rialyn did not question it. He learned to understand it. Still, there was no joy or success to be found in this. The Nord's breath became slower and fainter before fading completely. All they had left was a lifeless body, bereft of a soul. Inaaru realized what happened and could only look at it in pure despair.

"You tried your best…But we need to go now." - Rialyn tried to convince her, and the woman nodded. As she stood up, the blacksmith hugged her tightly, bringing Inaaru some warmth and comfort she needed. She embraced him in return, grateful for all the hope he gave her. Alone, it would have been much harder for them to live through those times, but together…There could be no limit for them.

Or so they thought.

As the two attempted to leave the fort, they were met by a squad clad in golden Aldmeri armor. A dozen of elves, apparently returning here to seize the fort completely, at the most unfortunate time. They knew who Rialyn and Inaaru were. The dreadful words of their commander still rang out in Rialyn's mind.

"By the decree of Thalmor council, you are charged with heresy and treason and sentenced to death." - This was not a fair trial or a trial at all, but the altmer wished to give it some semblance of justice, or perhaps it was simply to mock their victims…You never knew.

Rialyn and Inaaru were full of fear, yet neither was a coward. They learned to stare their terror right in its bloodthirsty gaze, no matter how much it would cause. They could have begged, they could have surrendered to avoid imminent death, they could have bargained…Or they could have challenged the forces which exceeded them almost tenfold. They chose to throw the dice.

The memories became more painful to watch as Rialyn knew that there were mere minutes before the painful end. The illusion of crossroads Rialyn was forced to, the destiny he didn't choose but had to embrace. Ironic that if Rialyn heard that about what life had in store for him over the next year, he would not believe a word of it. Perhaps this was why it was so hard to surprise him now.

It all began with an arrow. One precise shot by Inaaru hit the Altmer's shoulder. He did not accept such disobedience and resistance, and these moments of their confusion allowed Rialyn and Inaaru to run towards the forest nearby, the only place where they could hide. If they had any chance of escaping this turmoil, it would be among the aging trees and layers of snow.

Rialyn remembered this moment well. They did not think about the consequences or chances; they just ran. The Dominion soldiers would follow, of course. Rialyn and Inaaru did not look back, but they heard their shouts and anger. The steps were like an approaching storm from behind. It could reach them at any moment.

In an instant, Rialyn saw it all as the echoing voices emerged in his head like wildfire.

"I see them over there!"

No matter how much they hid near trees and the hills, sooner or later, they would still be found. The couple had no choice but to go deeper into those woods, nearing the border with Skyrim. The arrows were falling around them as Dominion archers unleashed their rain in hopes of striking the fugitives. It only allowed short amounts of time to continue running.

"They can't follow us that far…They won't!"

But they did. These soldiers were so eager that even crossing into another province, the one torn by civil war, was not enough of a reason for them to stop. Rialyn felt pain in his feet and knees as the snow got deeper. Every step could be followed by a swift fall.

"It's getting quieter; come on!"

But in the end, they would be separated. As Rialyn and Inaaru reached the steep cliff on one of the hills, they began to frantically search for a hiding place. This wouldn't be of much help, as three Aldmeri soldiers soon arrived there, standing in between Rialyn and Inaaru. They were terrified. A brief respite and a thought of safety led to the enemy's arrival being even more painful.

They had to think quickly. The coming moments have gone in a swift flash for Rialyn as the voices ceased, leaving only the dreadful picture. It would soon end, Rialyn knew…But not before he sees it once again.

He screamed for her to run and that they could find each other later, so she did. Inaaru rushed but promised to come back for him. Unfortunately, two soldiers followed her, leaving Rialyn alone with another Altmer. Rialyn remembered this flash…When he remained completely alone. He remembered unleashing his inner anger and fury that day. He fought like never before, not allowing Thalmor soldier a moment of respite. Perhaps Rialyn felt that he had nothing to lose now. He wasn't that good of a swordsman back then and did not think he could win…

Oh, how wrong he was. Rialyn wanted to at least give this scum scars to remember. This was the least he could do after they took everything from him. Each wound, each strike, and each splash of blood falling on the snow only gave Rialyn the purest form of motivation. Enough to plunge his sword into the soldier's heart. The joy that Rialyn felt as the opponent struggled to breathe and fell to the ground could not be described with words. But he has too worn out himself…

And so the dark elf fell off the cliff, buried beneath the snow. This must have been the reason why he was never found by Thalmor, his saving grace. The next memories were moot as if he walked on the edge between reality and dreams.

Rialyn remembered wandering through the woods, shocked and fearful, trying to get his thoughts together and failing every time. Was his journey long or just a few more minutes? That he didn't remember. He could only think of his steps, his slow walk, his attempts to survive before he fell unconscious once again, amidst the land he knew nothing about.

It was long before he opened his eyes and heard words echoing in his mind.

"Hey, you. You're finally awake."