By the end of that week, Thorn too had passed with the tiniest dots on the horizon, and Ilsme bottled that experience like a potion, collecting and storing it for later. The days were growing longer as their ship approached southern Tamriel, the breezes warmer, and the fish more luminous and colorful. Slaves that were purchased by Tanhis, the ship's captain, caught most of their supper, and the few armed sailors watched the slaves closely, anticipating an attempt to escape.

Meanwhile, she and Vehk had begun an odd sort of routine practicing spear thrusts. Their mornings began with the practice, something both were needing after nearly a month now of pacifism. Though aware of his skill with the spear, and indeed martial aptitude in all things, she could not help but be mesmerized by his movements, which was a measured dance of confidence and artful duplicity, a game that was keeping her guessing his next moves, reflecting well the unpredictability of the mer in question.

This morning, they drew a small crowd to watch their display. The other passengers were comprised of Nords, seemingly in awe of the dance of renown occurring on the deck. The captain, too, watched, and his sailors as well. It did not escape her that it was unwise to attract attention, but it was a luxury both she and Vehk enjoyed and were not likely to shed anytime soon. Vehk, of course, won most of their practices, the wooden stick he used as a substitute able to submit to his craftiness with the ease of a master. It was not as though Ilsme had not come near to beating him once or twice, for she had (with great difficulty) managed to make for his neck the day prior, nearly winning the 'fight'.

They bowed to one another, as was proper custom for their people. Vehk's shirt was absent as he preferred, his lean torso and sinewy arms on display, while his legs were covered in thin breeches. As for Ilsme, she too did not overdress, for the days were not only growing longer, but hotter as well. Not a single cloud was dancing in the heavens this morning, and if she were not Dunmer, her fair complexion may have been compromised by it as the Nords were beginning to experience. A symphony of dolphins made themselves known in the distance this morning, and she reminded herself many times not to allow the splendor of the natural world to distract her from her opponent, who she was convinced knew her better than she knew herself at times.

His eyes, sharp and perceptive, followed her movements like a serpent uncoiled itself at the sight of prey. If she were not wiser, his gaze would be flattering, and she supposed that this sight was the last thing many saw before a remarkably alluring end at the tip of his spear, lips turned up in the smile of a reptile. She wondered if he missed access to spears of divine make, and judging by the look in his eyes, he was convinced he did not need spears enchanted by godhood to be extraordinary.

She did not give him the honor of first blow this round, for her opponent did not play according to principles of honor as Voryn had. Her first thrust was done so with zeal and met with equal measure, though Vehk's was far less apparent, hidden beneath calculation and discipline. The wood of their practice weapons met with a vibrating force, full of practiced and performative vitriol, and the sound, though small, marked the beginning of a dance of masters, unbeknownst to those who watched. During these sessions, Ilsme allowed her lingering distrust of him to surface and dwell, healthily lending her a guide for parrying him and his deceptive attempts to bait her into striking with full force.

Aware was she that this was merely practice, though that did little to dampen the desperate attempts by both to dominate the other in this area. In several ways, it was improving her skill with the spear, which was nearly unrivaled except by her opponent. Watching him move was like artwork, and she, the admiring observer who wished to prove equal to such art. With ease, he flourished the practice weapon as though it were weightless, in the heat of performance, in a time where most would feel only desperation, he felt an opportunity to inspire awe in a crowd, even if said crowd was small and insignificant in the larger picture.

Ilsme was learning quickly how to avoid his cunning traps through maneuvers of her own, though rarely did he fall prey to them. Thankfully, he did not entertain her by indulging her desire for victory, and thus did not spare her his masterful display. As one with skill in this life, and memory of a past life, she was able to keep pace with his mastery with her alacrity and eagerness to learn. One quality she did not share with him was pride, a powerful thing that she was in a continuous struggle to understand.

"You are quick, Indora. Eager, too. Perhaps too eager?" He taunted, using her alias, though she could not tell if it was playful or serious. "Eager to lose, even?"

His jabs did not do to distract her this time, for she knew that this was its purpose. Her feet slid to dodge one of his attacks, allowing her to skid across the deck that was slick with mop water, leading her closer to the side of Vehk. Vehk anticipated this, however, and the stick nearly hit her back, but instead narrowly missed and only caught her white hair.

"I do not lose, I bring." She began, "I am older than music, and what I bring is star and ancient sea!"

Vehk's head snapped to her face then, but he did not falter. An amused sort of smile crept up one corner of his supple lips at her playful attempt to distract him with his sermons, and she saw that the small crowd watching them was suddenly struck by confusion at her words. How odd it was for Ilsme to be a foreigner once again, a life she has not known in so long, and she wagered that Vehk felt similar to her in this regard. A flash of teeth was what she saw before her opponent charged, and she twisted her body and pushed her legs forward, making to swipe his neck with her stick, marking the symbolic end of the fight.

This time, she did win, and Vehk stood there, a light expression on his face with the wood at his throat. It was not a tactic she would use often, because he would now anticipate it. A moment and a lifetime passed as they stood in that position, not quite reunited as friends but most certainly free of hostility. Her snowy hair blew in the warm breeze, moving also the sheer common clothes she wore. Not two seconds after her first real victory over Vehk, did she drop the stick in a gesture of mercy, still maintaining eye contact, as difficult as it could be.

"You did not hold back, and I am glad of it. An excellent teacher you would have made." She said lowly, low enough that the small gathering of awed faces did not hear. It went without saying that her sentence would have ended in if you had the patience, but saying such a thing could be poorly received in the cusp of their refound kinship.

He did not reply, but instead made to gaze at the sea, apparently finished with entertaining the admirers he had acquired, and choosing to watch the life that was thriving as they passed it by. She found that her feet followed his movements over to the edge of the deck, where they overlooked the waters together as they had near the coast of Thorn. A slave approached them shortly and brought two small cups of water, and before they turned, she nodded in thanks, careful not to earn the ire of the captain, who was indeed a Dres-aligned slaver.

Water trickled past her lips and down her throat, soothing the dry itch, and she watched as Vehk did the same. He did not drink with as much fervor, she noticed, and perhaps it was because he did not need as much sustenance as she – if he needed any at all, a fact she had not ascertained yet, for she was not yet comfortable enough with asking him about his godhood and descent to mortality.

Valenwood would not be far now, and she was left to wonder if it was truly the place she wanted to roam with Vehk. Certainly, it would be isolated and their faces would be unknown by all in the canopied kingdom, which she'd heard only whispers about from the few Bosmer she'd known. A wise place to start to rearrange the fallen cards that were the both of their lives, however, there was this suspicion that it was not yet far enough, and Ilsme had not gotten far without trusting this feeling.

Ilsme must have looked lost in thought, for it looked like Vehk was waiting, with his midsection leaned against the wooden railing, and his manicured fingers beating like drums on his forearms, a gesture she noted he did when he was growing impatient with something, though usually not her. Nerevar wanted her to speak, but she did not know how to present her question without it sounding fickle to her own ears, and if it sounded fickle to her, it most certainly would to Vehk also. She bode her time by joining him against the railing, leaving a small open space between their bodies.

With her gaze now on the sea, and the waves helping to clear her mind and reassure her, she prepared herself. It would be right to include Vehk in her decisions, for they traveled together now. The days of walking alone, her persistence and Nerevar being her only companion, were over. Those days, fiery and full of desperation as they were, lay far behind her now, discarded in the port of Hla Oad. Only one followed her now, and he did not need her to make decisions independent of him. This insulted his sovereignty.

"Far have I traveled, but never have I traveled this far south. What should we expect in Valenwood?" She asked, and joined him near the railing.

A slave brought them two clay cups filled with water, as the captain had been bidding them to do for the past few days after their shows of martial excellence. She did not believe the captain suspected something of them, rather he often watched them with a greed she'd seen in many prospecting mers' eyes. Almost certain that he intended to ask them to perform mercenary work, she avoided his gaze when she could.

"Feral elves, and verdancy the likes of which you have never seen before. Trees as tall as the grandest ziggurat of our people's make, and the dense moss that clings to them. Kingdoms that will pass your eye, unseen, until you listen and hear the footsteps above you." He answered, that familiar glint in his eyes that told of how he enjoyed spinning verse like this, "Long has it been an isolated country, not so unlike Morrowind. It's come to my attention that the Aldmeri Dominion has unmanned these elves, however. We should not be the only outsiders."

Days passed before finally they saw the coast again, for the first time since Thorn, and she wondered how much skill it must have taken to circumnavigate these seas. A city Tanhis called Haven appeared on the horizon then, a bustling cove built in an archaic fashion reminiscent of the Altmer. Ilsme could see that ships of all make dotted the shoreline, and that theirs was the only one of Dunmeri make.

When finally it was time to touch land again, she joined Vehk with her belongings, spears in both of their hands, and awarded the ship's figurehead only one last look, before moving forward. There were no Dunmer in this city, aside from she, Vehk, and the crew that worked The Cliff Racer. There were many Khajiit and Bosmer, and a few tall and elegantly robed Altmer, who looked down their noses, literally and figuratively, at the other residents, who were mainly comprised of transient sailors and merchants.

Haven was large and its buildings tall, but the jungle far behind its walls boasted even more impressive giants. Some Imperial faces made themselves known to her as together, she and Vehk walked from the docks and into the city proper. The Imperials were not in uniform, however, and looked to be weary from a source uncertain. It was then that she saw a large cohort of Altmer soldiers led by their robed leaders, and surmised that this city had been taken recently.

Something was happening, she felt – something large and revolutionary. Naturally, Tamriel had changed much since she was cocooned in the ashy wastes of Vvardenfell, and a small sliver of excitement rushed through her at the proof of time's passing. She kept Vehk in her peripheral, watching him gaze at the faces of those who were not his former worshipers for once. She imagined it must be odd for him to be in a place where he knew next to nothing about its people's inner workings, their minds completely foreign to him. In their people, he had the luxury of one who was privy to their minds, having heard prayers silent and spoken in his name.

It took longer than usual to find an inn, and before they had, Ilsme was compelled to ask one of the Altmeri guards for direction. They were uncharacteristically sour towards her, and she was aware of why. For many years, indeed, millennia, a spiritual war was fought between the Altmer and the Dunmer, a battle over escapism or worldly ambition. Ilsme did not mind this, however, as it had been long since unfriendliness had bothered her. An orphan like she, and even Vehk, were unbothered by the perceived superiority of others. This is what allowed the exceptional orphan to part the waves of the upper echelons of society, and bring forth a tide of change, inspired by the personal ambition to be extraordinary.

One downside to being a foreigner again was that they were no longer invisible as they had been in Ebonheart and Thorn. The gazes of western elves followed them, eyeing their sharpened spears with distrust and no small amount of fear. Khajiit too, did not try to hide their fangs as they bared their teeth at members of a race who often enslaved them in the plantation.

Vehk did not surrender to their incessant staring, and instead met their eyes with a serene intensity that would have intimidated her if she were not wiser to his games. She too met their curious and distrusting gazes, her experience with statecraft helping her maintain an air of diplomacy as together they found the innkeeper, who was a tall Khajiiti female. Unlike the others in the inn, she did not eye them with suspicion, but with sly interest, as was a common expression in her kind.

A rather strong feeling came over Ilsme that this innkeeper would ask something of them before allowing them to stay.

"S'rravi greets you, travelers." The Khajiit, S'rravi, spoke in common, accent thick like sugary water.

Ilsme brushed a strand of white hair behind one pointed ear, and noticed that Vehk was watching the inhabitants of the inn with a close eye. One Bosmeri woman giggled at his attentions, which Ilsme knew were flattering from a distance, and the distrust in some were gone as Vehk met their curious gazes with a look of thinly-veiled predatory cunning. It was not often that he interacted so openly with other mortals, and rarely did she find him initiating conversation with them, or inviting attention to himself. Habits did not disappear overnight, however, and the desire to perform would always linger there deep within.

"Blessings to you, S'rravi." Ilsme began, touching her fingers to her chest in greeting.

To mention her inexperience in southern Tamriel could prove a severe mistake, and so Ilsme neglected to mention that they were traveling from Morrowind to Valenwood for the first time, and indeed spoke little else, certain that the sly beastman would ask something of her before she had the opportunity. Ilsme had spent much of her life being a foreigner in a land where her kind were most uncommon, and unwanted in some places, and thus was nearly impervious to the needling stares at their backs.

"S'rravi wonders why two fearsome-looking Dark Elves have come to her, she wonders if she should feel threatened." The innkeeper said with a purr, sandy tail swishing behind her in a display akin to mock hostility, "She supposes if the moons are feeling generous, she will also."

A voice sounded in the back of Ilsme's mind then, that voice she so relied upon for comfort and unity. Nerevar felt both suspicious and curious towards the climax of a proposition they were near to arriving at with the innkeeper. Vehk beside her was apparently done entertaining the other guests with his flattering, alluringly dangerous stare, the seducer gone and instead replaced by blankness, what she was beginning to understand was his instinctive reaction to all.

"I wonder, then, what it would take to arouse generosity in the moons? Perhaps you would be kind enough to explain this to us, and of course, we will listen." Came her reply, matching the Khajiit's underhandedness of speech.

Though aware that she was no longer in Morrowind, a glowing barrage of epiphanies made themselves known to Ilsme in that moment while she waited for the Khajiit to answer her. It was like being in Vvardenfell for the first time again, where the people had very little trust to spare her, and she was made to solve their problems, be it menial or otherwise, to gain their hard-earned trust. Only this time, she was not alone, and once again, the surrealism of Vehk's presence beside her drew her attention only momentarily away from the Khajiit, to Vehk himself, who watched the scene calmly.

(*(*(*(*(*(*(*(*(*(*(*(*(*

The calls of birds Ilsme had never heard before sounded in the jungle behind Haven, with feathers of colors she had only seen in Cyrodiil's meadows filling the canopy above. Her ears were filled with the heavenly sound of singing birds, a sound she'd not heard in a lifetime, for Vvardenfell lacked the verdant meadows and forests that much of the rest of Tamriel boasted. The Khajiiti innkeeper had given them the task of clearing a gathering of pirates, whom she strongly suspected were rival smugglers of whoever S'rravi worked for.

With her spear in hand, and a warding spell in the other, she led the expedition further into the jungle where S'rravi hinted they'd be. Her keen sense of hearing picked up on little noises in the canopies above, causing her ears to prick forward at the slightest hint that they were being watched – which she strongly suspected was true. This feeling was not unfamiliar to her, however, as the ashstorms of Vvardenfell hosted a wide variety of sharp predators, both elven and creature alike. Though not one to hide herself, she deliberately stepped light and watched the floor of the jungle for traps. Vehk too was quiet behind her, though he seemed much less on edge than she.

This did not surprise her, as he was loathe to alert any given opponent of his paranoia, a feeling she knew he kept close to himself. She believed he was nearly itching for a fight, after having been denied the privilege for so long now to face his opponents with the ferocity and mastery he prided himself in. Today, he had discarded his robe for a simple attire of silver breeches and sandals, shirtless as he preferred. She did not wear something unlike he wore, a simple blouse and breeches, her small red bag of belongings tied to her waist, white hair tied behind her as she had worn it several times in Molag Amur.

Her ears picked up on a crunch of the branches behind them, and she turned to face the source of the noise, slowly so that she did not give herself a way. The ones following them did not make themselves immediately known, but as soon as she heard an arrow rushing, she raised a ward and watched with curiosity as the arrow was pushed away, falling to the side. It was of Bosmeri make, this much she could tell from the deep brown of the crudely-made arrow that was finished with a multitude of feathers, a reminder of the Green Pact.

Another snap of wood, and two more arrows came towards them, stopped only by the sheer strength of the ward she supported with her left hand. After a few moments, a pair of dark eyes which were nearly black, appeared suddenly before her, peeking out from behind the large root of a tree. Above them, were markings and ritual scarring, and she could tell that the wearer of the gaze was not tall. The figure must have received a surge of bravery, for after several failed knocks from his companions' bows, he made himself known, appearing fully from the thicket.

The group were tribal, but they wore breeches of Imperial make along with bows of a make she had yet to see, and she surmised that they were the pirates S'rravi had asked them to clear. Ilsme's chin lifted, preparing a diplomatic speech, though she knew that this would end far from diplomatically.

"Come quietly, and my companion and I may forgive your poor welcome to this fair country. We have sailed the southern sea, not unlike you, I believe. You have little to fear from us." She said, watching the group of Bosmeri pirates look from her and Vehk to one another in distrust and eventually, they must've decided that it was safe to speak with her.

"What are you doin' here, then?" The one she assumed was their leader spoke in a thick accent, an accent she hadn't heard since her time in the Heartland, "We ain't never seen you around here before. Give us a good reason not to rob you clean, outsider."

The corner of Ilsme's lips quirked up at the threat of bravado that left the leader's mouth, aware that if they knew who they were threatening, they would likely turn tail and run. Though this was not fair to them, and so she would keep her mouth closed on that matter, and instead watched Vehk out of the corner of her eye, who was watching the leader with his intense, red gaze which was glittering with amusement, his face otherwise bereft of any other indication of what he was feeling.

"I believe you have seen reason enough from your failed attempts at piercing us with your crude weapons. If it be a fight you want, we will gladly face you, and I believe you owe us the honor of first blow this time. Is that fair to assume?"

Before they were given leave to answer, Vehk's spear was launched in the heart of one of the pirates who stood by their leader, surprising them and nearly surprising her. They were only two, and the group was nearly ten, and that was not counting the ones who could be hiding in the thickets of the jungle with their poisoned arrows, which she doubted Vehk feared. With the confidence of a master, he retrieved his spear in the midst of the chaos currently consuming the group, who immediately rushed to the defense, whereas she and Vehk launched their offense.

Within moments, Ilsme was rushing with her spear, taking her opponents out with a speedy finesse she was renowned for. The bones and chimes comprising the headpieces of the Bosmeri pirates jingled as they rushed to form some kind of defense against the two, but it was clumsy and they were unable to dodge the sheer force and magnitude of Vehk's ebony spear as he danced, utterly dominating them, a familiar sight that stirred the long-lost kinship Nerevar had with him, reminding her of the countless fights they'd fought together, the two of them against all odds.

It did not take long for them to finish the party of smugglers, who'd dropped amazingly quickly to their superior combination of speed and experience. For both, the experience of a thousand years led them to utterly annihilating opposition, and for Vehk it was his confident stride that contrasted with his proclivity for slippery duplicity, reminiscent of the serpent and the fox. For her, it was the countless memories of Nerevar's stratagems and her own celerity, and a smile crept up her lips at the familiar feeling of fighting alongside him, and she awarded him this by facing the mer, who now watched her with an arrogance he so rarely let slip onto his face these days.

"A worthy thrust, Ilsme. Perhaps you do not have as much to learn as I initially thought?" He asked cheekily, and this time, she let an uncharacteristically cheerful laugh escape her lips at the teasing which was so common between he and Nerevar before.

The rush of the fight died slowly, and was replaced by a profound sense of liberation in its stead. Indeed, it was liberating to be faceless to all but him, in a place where her name was unspoken.