"He was not born a god. His destiny did not lead him to this crime. He chose this path of his own free will. He stole the godhood and murdered the Hortator. Vivec wrote this." - The 36 Lessons

Gelebor woke up alone. Morning sunlight streamed down from the trapdoor, easily overpowering the dimmer illuminations of the Dwemer. He smiled at the sight of the Falmer armor laying beside him, and ran a hand down the chestplate. Then his face fell as he realized his solitude and the memories of yesterday flooded his consciousness. For a moment, Gelebor was certain Nadene had left with her guars, never to see him again. Their debts to each other were certainly paid. Then he heard Ur and Alma wrestling in the grass, and Nadene's sharp voice admonishing them. Gelebor steeled himself and walked groggily up the trapdoor steps.

"Hello," he greeted Nadene. She sat in the grass, legs crossed under her, watching the guars explore their new environment. Her glass armor was nowhere in sight; she wore leather traveling clothes, complete with a heavy cloak.

"We're going to Raven Rock." Her voice was flat, devoid of emotion. She was tracing circles in the snow with her finger. "Might as well hear what that Khajiit has to say. Ask why he wants to meet me."

"I wonder if he's still there. It's been quite a while." In the past weeks, Gelebor had completely forgotten about Kharjo and his message. Is she really going to pretend nothing happened? Gelebor sat down beside her, the grass cool and soft. "So you'd like me to come along, then?" A tense air hung between them, the peace as fragile as a butterfly's wings.

She didn't reply, and didn't turn her head. Gelebor dreaded her response, and hated himself for it. Have I become so pathetic, so desperate for a caring hand? I'm groveling at her feet like a beaten dog. Millenia of blind worship has twisted my mind.

"I'm sorry I read your letter, but you overreacted." Gelebor willed himself to look at her. "You threw me out into a storm, in the dead of night, defenseless. Those cultists almost got what they came for. Before you say anything else, tell me this: is your pain more important to you than my friendship? More important than my life?"

Her fingers tightened into fists. "What happens if the answer is yes?"

"Then we never see each other again. You don't have to worry about any followers of Namira burning down your house, and I don't have to brace myself to freeze to death every time I walk into a room with your mail."

"You have, what, a few bruises? You were hurt worse hunting for a damned guar." Nadene finally looked him in the eyes, her face contorted in fury. "I started growing that tower when there was a fucking Septim on the Ruby Throne. Everything I had was in it. Everything I was. And if I'd never met you, all of it would still be there!"

"They were just things, Nadene!" He stood up, surprised at his own fury. Without the thought of Auriel watching over him, it seemed all too easy to step over his old barriers. "I don't care how old you are. I don't care what a 'Nerevarine' is, or why you're so insanely sensitive about being one. I'm sorry about what happened. I truly am. But answer me, damn you! Tell me you would trade my life to have your tower back." Gelebor turned his back, fingernails digging into his palm. "I think we both know your answer already."

"Fuck you, Gelebor!" A firm hand wrapped around his ankle, and he was too stunned to react before Nadene pulled him to the ground. She stood over him, tears running down her face. "You don't know a blasted thing about me. I saved your worthless life while mine was burning to the ground. After all the time we spent together…"

"I-"

"How dare you. How dare you even ask!" She kicked the ground next to him. "Is that the kind of elf you think I am? Someone who would trade a life for a house? No. You know what? To Oblivion with you, and your absent god."

She stomped back down the stairs and slammed the trap door behind her.

Gelebor stared at the closed door for a long while before lying back down on the grass. Ur and Alma came up to sniff him, squeaking in worry. He paid them no mind. The sky above was darkening in degrees, filling with ash blowing in from Vvardenfell. No blue sky could last long on Solstheim. The dragon god of time, aspect of the sun, defeated by a gust of wind. The sovereign of the Snow Elves is no stronger than they were. Than I am. I was foolish to ever rely on him. Nadene is the one who saved me from that cultist's blade. Auriel would have watched as I died in agony.

After an hour or two, he felt the trap door calling to him. One of us will have to be the first to apologize. Gelebor rolled to his feet, feeling his years. The guars trailed behind him like children. He knocked on the weathered wood, already certain she'd locked the door.

"Nadene?"

"Go away." Her voice was muffled, and choked with tears, but close. She must've been sitting on one of the steps. "Take the guars with you. I should be alone."

"You don't mean that. I don't…" Gelebor sighed, struggling to find the words. He'd fallen so far into a pit of despair, it was ludicrous to think he could pull someone else out. I have to make an attempt. Maybe if he'd tried harder in the Chantry, Vyrthur could have been saved. "I don't think either of us should be alone anymore."

"Being together has only ruined everything."

"Not true. If I hadn't found you, I'd be on Vvardenfell right now." He shuddered. With all that had happened, he'd still not fully processed the intention of the cultists. "These people want to eat me, Nadene. I'm afraid. I need you."

"I can't protect anyone. Ask the City of Necrom how many tombs they had to build in the year 4E 5. Ask them where I was."

"I know where you were," Gelebor said, his heart racing. This was a risk. But one he had to take. "You were saving as many as you could. The girl from the letter. Habisuulu. You rescued her, didn't you? Or...her mother and father?"

Nadene was silent for a long time. Gelebor wondered how long he would remain here if she never responded. His old faith was gone, leaving a hole whose edges burned every time he had a thought. But his new faith in Nadene was stronger than he thought it to be. I fought this fiercely for Auriel, long ago. My reward was silence, and eternal solitude. At least Nadene will let me die in peace if she sends me away.

"You have a weak grasp of time's passage," Nadene finally spoke. "And abysmal Dunmeris pronunciation. It's Habisunilu. An Ashlander name." She hesitated. "Habi, to me. I saved her family from the eruption, but her parents weren't yet born. She's the last of them, now."

"I know of the Ashlanders." Gelebor almost clung to the trap door, so happy that she was speaking to him without venom. "One of the priests in Raven Rock used to be one. They worship the old Daedra, yes?"

"Aye. They stayed faithful while the rest of the Dunmer sold themselves to the Tribunal. Three living gods. Featured prominently in the list of deities that have betrayed me."

"Oh?" Nadene's voice had levelled off as she spoke, losing inflection, as if she was teaching a history lesson. But when she spoke of the Tribunal, hatred seeped into her every word.

She chuckled without mirth. "I've just realized. You have no idea who I am, do you? Even after reading that letter. You don't know of the Nerevarine."

"No."

"Wonderful. Well, I suppose you ought to know from me, or you'll just find out some other way. Long ago, there was a Chimer hero named Indoril Nerevar."

"The Chimer. The Dunmer before they were changed, yes?"

"Yes. The Chimer were waging a war against the Nords and the Dwemer. The final battle was at Red Mountain. This was when the dwarves pulled their little vanishing act. They left behind control of an ungodly power, and Nerevar wanted the tools of this power to be destroyed forever. He left Dagoth Ur to guard them while he went to meet with the Tribunal to decide what to do. Vivec, Almalexia, Sotha Sil. His friends. They betrayed him, murdered him, and used the stolen power to become gods."

"That's awful. The priest in Raven Rock said they misled your people, but I had no idea."

He heard the bitter smile in her next words. "Nerevar was pretty mad about the whole thing, and apparently so was Azura. Picture an abusive absent mother, showing up too late to save anyone but just in time to get revenge. Nerevar was reincarnated into the Nerevarine, who the Empire found based on some guarshit insane prophecy. Basically, me. I killed Dagoth Ur and stopped him from purging the outlanders from Morrowind. For all the good it did us."

"And the Tribunal?"

She was quiet for a moment. "They're dead too."

Gelebor felt it wasn't wise to pry further. Nadene had just spoken more in ten minutes then she usually did in a week. They were two elves made of glass, tip-toeing around the shattered remnants of the past, and he was in no hurry to send her back into the quiet darkness just to satisfy his own curiosity.

"Gelebor?" Her voice wavered. "You still there?"

"I am."

"I'm-" She took a deep breath. "I'm sorry I abandoned you. You had no idea what that letter meant to me. There way no way you could have. I was wrong."

"Thank you, Nadene. I forgive you."

"Really?" She shifted on the stair. "Just like that?"

"Just like that. I...I think we should stay together. I think we're...good for each other, somehow. Perhaps we could just try it out, for a little while longer?" Without meaning to, he turned the sentence into a question.

"Yes. Maybe you're right." He heard the vulnerability in her voice. This was a step into uncertain waters, for the both of them. "So. To Raven Rock, then?"

"That sounds just fine."

She opened the trap door and climbed out. Her eyes were redder than usual. They looked at each other, not smiling, but with a strange new energy hanging between them, swollen with emotion of an unfamiliar sort. Gelebor was pretty sure hope had a lot to do with it.

"Come on, we need to hurry if we want to make it to town before another storm comes."

She produced saddles for the guars, which they loaded with supplies, though Nadene said they were not yet ready to hold riders for extended periods of time. Gelebor carried his new armor on a webbed satchel on his back; he'd have to get it fitted in Raven Rock. The weight was painful, but it was a pain that brought a touch of warmth to his aching heart. Nadene took a ring from one of the chests against the wall and slipped it on her finger before donning her own glass armor and locking the trap door.

They led the burdened beasts through the forest, Nadene slightly ahead with Ur. Following in her footsteps, Gelebor was finding the terrain far more tolerable to pass through. She obviously knew the island well; roots that he failed to notice Nadene avoided easily, and the smoothness with which she navigated the glade was similarly impressive. To Gelebor, all the trees seemed to look much the same. But occasionally Nadene would bring them to a halt so she could take a long look at their surroundings.

In those times, Gelebor suspected she almost forgot he was there, and she let her mask slip away. Nadene would stand motionless, one hand on her hip and the other gently resting on Ur's leathery head. She'd bite her lower lip and peer around, brow furrowed and eyes narrowed in what almost seemed like a challenge. In these moments, Gelebor could almost see the person Nadene had been before. What could happen to someone, to make them hide themselves away inside like that? A foolish question. He knew all too well the agonies of solitude, and the pain of betrayal at the hands of one's own god.

"Why come here?" Nadene asked abruptly, their footsteps plodding on the wet ground. As they left the forests behind, the snow had begun to melt.

"I'm following you," Gelebor replied, confused. Has she changed her mind already?

"No. Why Solstheim? The air is mostly hot. The Dunmer mostly hate you. Auriel has no followers here."

He'd not yet shared his new disillusionment with her. The change was still too raw, and he feared losing himself if he spoke of it. Gelebor was still working out how to operate without the certainty of faith in his heart; his mind poked and prodded at the wound Auriel's departure had left, and he was not yet sure he wouldn't just collapse into a catatonic state.

"Fine. Don't tell me." Nadene hastened her pace.

"Skyrim was becoming too hostile. Many of the cities turned me away, and in the others I feared to sleep among the Nords. I considered migrating to Cyrodiil or High Rock. Altmer are common enough in those countries, and from what I hear not overly persecuted. Have you ever had the pleasure?"

She glanced back at him. "Not High Rock. Grew up in Cyrodiil, raised by Imperial parents."

"Like the Dragonborn?"

"Nothing like the Dragonborn." The point seemed to matter a lot to her, as she stopped walking and turned to look at him. "I was pulled from the Imperial City's prison when I was seventeen. To you, the time I spent in Cyrodiil was the blink of an eye. Morrowind is my home, not by choice but by fate. That s'wit Jaxius Amaton didn't know a nix hound from a cliff racer."

"I see." Gelebor knew sharing was tough for Nadene. I feel we're finally starting to make progress with each other. Perhaps that fight did us both some good. "I thought about leaving Skyrim for a long while. But what if there are other Snow Elves out there? What if one day I walk through the Whiterun market and see another sick Altmer with a hood drawn around his face, wincing at the heat of the braziers? This couldn't happen in High Rock. But I couldn't stay in Skyrim."

"So you came to Solstheim," Nadene said. "The Falmer once lived here, but most of the Nords are gone. Not a horrible plan."

"Yes." Gelebor gently guided Alma over a fallen branch. "It started out that way. Then I ran out of gold rather quickly in Raven Rock, and began acquiring debt instead. After that, there wasn't much choice involved." He sighed. Speaking of such things depressed him. As if I'll find any Snow Elves in these wastes. Only in my dreams.

They spoke little the rest of the day, as forest thinned out and snow turned to ash. Soon there were no trees in sight, and they walked exposed in the ash wastes like tiny ants scrambling around on some great dead moon. Gelebor felt as if the gods themselves were staring down and judging him. The color of the world seemed less vivid now, as if the beauty of life had been taken from him. Is this the price of letting go of my faith?

I had no other choice. Read this, Auriel: no more chances.

He did his best to still his beating heart, and wiped the sweat from his face. Steam rose from the gray wasteland, giving them at least some cover, but every step further towards the warmth sent Gelebor's skin crawling. Nadene and the guars, on the contrary, seemed to become more comfortable as they walked along. They were made for this land, or at least what this land has become. I don't belong here at all.

They stopped to rest in the shadow of a fallen tower. The moons were rising in the sky, glowing almost blood red, and Gelebor fed the guars before falling onto his bedroll. Nadene, to his surprise, set up right next to him. He tossed and turned in the night, unable to fall asleep. The air was too damned hot, and phantoms of the past haunted his thoughts. Eventually, he felt a small hand on his back.

"Nadene?"

"You're keeping me awake with all that blasted fidgeting. Just hold still."

Gelebor felt power tingling in her short fingers, and the heat began to leave him. In a few short minutes, he was pulling his bedroll up just to get warmer. Miraculous. "Wonderful. Many thanks. How do you do that?"

"If I told you, it wouldn't work." Nadene ran her fingers down his spine. "Just go to sleep now, endling. Sleep your little elf dreams."

He obeyed, and dreamt again of the strange woman standing at the foot of his bed and her promises of salvation. This time, on the beach, Gelebor watched an entire family of ancient Falmer emerge from their hut to greet the morning sun. They were real. He was so certain of it. Please. Say something. Tell me where you are! The woman let him get close enough to hear them breathe before he was pulled back into reality and the unpleasant ashy heat of Solstheim. A spot of coldness pressed into his lower back. He reached back to feel Nadene's hand pressing against him, her ring the source of the disturbance.

"Are you touching my fingers?"

"They were touching me first, miss Othryn."

He felt her rise, laughing softly, and a large animal took her place. Ur fell asleep quickly against his back, snoring.

"Aww." Nadene began to shed her sleeping clothes, the waiting glass armor stacked neatly next to their campfire. Gelebor closed his eyes. "How adorable. They're the best at this age, you know. Not as needy as babies, not as stern as adults."

"Adorable." Gelebor willed himself to think of the drooling guar at his back, instead of the bare elf before him.

"Oh, Gelebor." Nadene chuckled. "We're both far too old for this. You look like a cloud with a rash. Can't two immortals get dressed in front of each other without blushing?"

"Evidently not." Gelebor debated the wisdom of turning to face Ur, considering the guar had no qualms about letting his tongue fall out during slumber. Time to change the subject. "I didn't realize you were blessed with eternal life. From Azura?"

"No. I contracted a horrible disease. Corprus. I'll tell you the symptoms one day when we both have empty stomachs. Anyway, the same elf that taught me how to grow mushroom towers helped me find a cure. One of the side effects was immunity to all sickness, including that affliction known as time."

"I'm sorry." Gelebor opened his eyes again to see Nadene fully clad, gently waking up Alma and strapping on their luggage. He lumbered to his feet, already in his traveling clothes, and stretched mightily in the morning sunlight. Nadene watched him out of the corner of her eye.

"Many Dunmer live to my age regardless," Nadene said. "I don't look forward to the centuries, though. The oldest elves I know are either bitter and lonely, or utterly insane. The latter are mostly Telvanni."

Gelebor nodded solemnly, strapping on his mace. I wonder which category she places me in. "I suspect you've already lived more life then I have."

"Perhaps once, yes." She rubbed her hands together, looking up at the sky. "I have no purpose. Sometimes now I feel like I'm just existing for the sake of it. Most of the people I knew and loved died during the Red Year. Few would care if I vanished. Habi, probably, but she would get over it in time."

"I would care, Nadene." He took her hand and squeezed it, as he had yesterday. Her fingers were so small and cold, so unlike the fierce woman they belonged to. "I'm alone in this world, as well. Our people and gods have forgotten us." He felt as if they were walking along a cliffside together, and if one of them wavered they'd both fall. Gelebor certainly knew that if she left him now, his mind and spirit would shatter like a dropped urn.

"Perhaps that's for the best." Nadene shook free of his grip and grabbed Alma's leash. "Grab Ur, and let's go. That Khajiit must be getting damned impatient."

The ash wastes were a decidedly less pleasant place than the forests had been, so their trek was depressing as well as perilous. They stopped abruptly several times, either because Nadene sensed danger ahead or discovered a better path for them to take. Though fortunately the skies were clear of the promise of storms, the steady coastal wind still coated Gelebor in a thin layer of ash. The guars soldiered on, and he tried to find strength in their example.

Before the sun was above them, the thin brown trail of a road greeted them on the distant coast. Gelebor found the sight of the ocean beyond to be strangely reassuring. It's not as if those waves have ever taken me anywhere I wished to go. Perhaps it was simply the knowledge that the Betrayed mostly preferred more inland subterranean habitats. He wondered, not for the first time, if his fallen brothers and sisters had any presence on this island of Morrowind. I dearly hope not. His sanity was tenuous as it was. Having to see one of those twisted monsters he'd once called kin would push him over the edge.

The road provided Gelebor some small comfort; he was glad to have a modicum of civilization in sight once more. Ur and Alma chirped curiously at the new sensation of elven stone under their feet. But Nadene's reaction gave him pause. She had spoken little since the morning, but fell utterly silent now that they walked a path of purpose. Gelebor frowned at her tensed shoulders and dead-eyed forward stare.

"Is something the matter?" He increased pace to walk alongside her. "You know, beyond our normal parameters?"

"No." Nadene chewed her bottom lip. "Yes. I haven't done...this, for a long time."

"Walked on a road? Evaded cannibals?"

"No, fool. I mean...talking with others, having conversations. Being involved." She rubbed her fingers against her ring, over and over again. "I'm not sure I remember how."

"Remember who you speak to," Gelebor replied, smiling tightly. "At least there are others on this island. On one occasion, I stood alone in the Chantry for a thousand years without seeing another face. I took to conversing with animals, whenever I grew tired of talking to Auriel. The first treasure seeker I encountered afterwards was frightened away by my madness."

"Oh, wow. I didn't even think…" She ran a hand over her face. "Ugh. From now on, I'll try to consider your feelings before I speak." Her words were carefully chosen.

"It's quite alright." He patted her shoulder lightly. "We're both still trying to figure this out. Thank you for making an effort. Go ahead, speak your worries."

She hesitated before responding. "This Khajiit wants something. Something from me, specifically. I don't know if he wants the Nerevarine, or Nadene the Forest Witch. If it's the former, he's going to be sorely disappointed."

"I'll be there with you." Gelebor pulled lightly on Ur's leash to keep him from wandering off the road. "And I took a measure of Kharjo on our first meeting. He seemed an amicable enough fellow. You have nothing to fear."

"You're too naive. I've no idea how you survived this long. We've everything to fear, Gelebor."

He grimaced. She may be right, at that. The beige stones of the Bulwark, Raven Rock's southernmost barrier, were finally within sight. I'll be pleased to see Geldis again, at least. Though Nadene didn't totally relax, she at least stopped looking like an elf walking to her execution. They led the excited guars towards the town as evening arrived, and with their every step the light of Gelebor's forsaken god gradually dimmed until a total darkness consumed Raven Rock and all who walked her streets.