'In the end, rejoice as a hostage released from drumming torment but that savors his wound.
The drum breaks and you find it to be a nest of hornets,
which is to say:
your sleep is over.' - Sermon Thirty-Two
In the dim torchlight, shadows flickered across the urns of ancestors like the formless wicked spirits that haunted her dreams. Dust choked the air and smothered the small circles of candlelight surrounding them. Habisunilu knelt in the ash and prayed with all her strength.
Erandur watched from the corner, his red eyes glowing in the darkness.
"You didn't have to come with me, ya know," she said.
"Aye," he replied gravelly. "But better me than one of the guards. This is your family's tomb. It should be sacred."
"It's okay for you to feel uncomfortable. Not much of the Aedra here."
A minute passed before he responded. "I wouldn't be so certain of that. Mara's light can touch even the deepest and darkest corners of this world. Love is love, Habi."
"My father used to say there are more important things than love." She glanced at the largest of the urns, and in her mind his mournful harp played. How dreadful. "Duty to the tribe. Our family's legacy."
"Maybe for him, that was true. You have to decide for yourself what you care about." He paused for a minute. "Some might say your father was cruel to leave you all this responsibility, at such a young age."
"You sure speak boldly for someone afraid of ghosts," Habi said.
"I do have the most courageous House Redoran hopeful in decades with me, after all."
"I'm not in the Guard yet, Erandur. But I still coulda made it out here without you. I don't need protection. One of the last Ashlanders, unable to walk alone in the wastes of Vvardenfell without a watcher...it's shameful." She could almost feel the urns judging her.
"It would be damned hotheaded foolishness to come here alone," Erandur chided. "Even the most seasoned of the Redoran Guard travel in pairs when they go beyond the walls of Balmora."
"It's different for me. I'm an Ashlander."
"That didn't seem to prevent that nix hound from attacking us, or provide fair warning of the ash storm that's trapped us in your family's ancestral tomb."
Habi sighed internally. The hound fight had been the most exciting thing to happen in months, but Erandur had scared the beast away before she could get even one good thrust in with her spear. How was she supposed to learn how to survive in the wastes, like her family had for so many centuries, if she couldn't even be trusted to battle a nix hound by herself? Erandur had been good company in the last months, and his teachings had been invaluable, but sometimes he really grated on her.
"Sooner or later, every Ashlander has to stand alone."
"Says who? Your father?" Erandur came forward to rest a hand on her shoulder. "There's a reason your people lived in tribes. There's power in community. In the love of a brother, a mother, or a friend."
"If you were my friend, you'd know I'm ready to face Vvardenfell by myself. Just as the Nerevarine did."
"You are not her. And from what you've told me of your Solstheim correspondent, she would be aghast to hear you speak of her as someone to emulate. Is that what you want to become? A broken and bitter survivor, looking up at Red Mountain, trapped in the past?"
"You don't know anything!" Habi knew she was getting petty, but pushed forward regardless. "You said you'd never been to Morrowind before coming to marry Marasa Darvel and Akh'idzo. An outlander has nothin' to say to me about the Incarnate, or how I should live. You're hardly even a real Dunmer."
He sighed. "This mask of unkindness is ill fitting, Habi. Perhaps next time I'll wait outside during your prayers. Being here seems to bring out the worst in you."
"Fine. Do what you want." Habi bowed her head lower, so he couldn't see her eyes. I feel awful. Is this what it is, being the last Ashlander? Standing in miserable solitude, and pushing away anyone who dares to get close? She thought of Nadene, alone in the woods, with nothing but beasts and Red Mountain always looming. Sometimes Habi would lay in her bed for hours, anxious and afraid, certain that this time she would receive no reply from Solstheim. No one but her even knew where the Nerevarine lived. She had nightmares about traveling to Nadene's tower, worried about her lack of response, only to find a pair of legs swaying under the loft railing.
"I'm sorry, Erandur. I didn't mean it, what I said. Please...please don't go."
"I know. And I won't. The storm has come to an end. Have you finished?"
"Yes."
"Let's be off, then. I'm sure you want to get some more practice for your trials in today before the sun sets."
She stood on legs shaky and sore from hours of kneeling. Erandur helped steady her, and they climbed the steep stairs, leaving the dead behind them. Before opening the door, they stopped and pulled on their cloth masks and goggles. The aftermath of a Vvardenfell ash storm was dangerous even for Dunmer.
Nadene's eyes watered instantly when they stepped out into the choking dust. The storm had kicked up ash for leagues in every direction, obscuring the horizon and hiding even Red Mountain in clouds of gray. She held out her hand and watched particles drift through her splayed fingers like volcanic snowflakes.
"How are we gonna get back?" Her voice sounded muffled. "Can't see nothin."
"Mara will guide our steps," Erandur replied. "But I cast a tracking spell in Balmora before our departure, just in case she's too busy for us at the moment. Seems we should be heading this way."
They walked eastwards through the ash-choked plains of Vvardenfell like ghosts lost in some boundless, formless afterlife. Without landmarks to guide their passage, time and distance seemed to lose all meaning. Habi felt as if they'd been walking for days, when certainly it couldn't have been more than an hour since they left her family's tomb. I wonder if this is something you can get used to. Maybe I'll ask Nadene in my next letter.
"Erandur."
"Yes?"
"Nadene said you used to be able to teleport from town to town on the island, and even create your own recall points if you were skilled enough. You ever seen anything like that?"
"Hmm." Their footsteps crunched in the ash. "The Empire banned levitation and teleportation over a hundred years ago, so it's become a lost art of sorts. The existing travel conduits on Vvardenfell would have been lost during the Red Year. I've never met anyone who knows how to cast the more personal forms. The Telvanni on the eastern coast, perhaps. Or your friend on Solstheim."
"Oh." Habi had some rudimentary talent with magic, but little hope of ever learning anything from the Nerevarine. She'd spent four years on Solstheim from her tenth birthday, back when father had still been alive, but leaving now would mean abandoning all that she'd worked so hard for. And there was little chance of Nadene coming to Vvardenfell.
Habi rubbed ash from her goggles. "B'vek, then. The solution is obvious. We ought to go visit the Telvanni. I'll have some time, after my trials but before the formal training."
"So sure you'll pass, now?" She heard the smile in his voice. "Didn't seem so confident when I first met you."
"I've learned a lot since then. Some of it thanks to you." She'd actually almost given up before Erandur's arrival on the island. Included in the trials was a test of Cyrodilic fluency, a requirement for any competent guardsman because of the outlanders that would someday be commonplace in Balmora. In reality, few foreigners even wanted to come to the city, and those that did were usually scared away by the invasive and lengthy vetting process. In her nineteen years, Habi had only met a handful of outlanders. That didn't mean she considered learning Cyrodiilic a waste of time, though. And without Erandur, she'd still be stumbling around in the dark.
"I'll think about it," Erandur said. They came across a steep incline, and he offered his hand. Habi refused and scrambled up the cliff. "I believe we'd need to charter a boat. The journey by land is likely impossible, given the proximity to the mountain."
"I see." She tried to hide the disappointment in her voice. Half the reason she'd wanted to go was to see more of Vvardenfell, particularly the parts few others had ever stumbled upon. If there were any other Ashlanders, they'd be in those choking wastes at the foot of Red Mountain.
A figure materialized out of the ash. He stood beside a massive boulder. Erandur raised his arm, stopping Habi in her tracks, and drew his mace.
"Name yourself, friend." Erandur's gravelly voice seemed so loud in her ear. She wanted to reach for her spear, but something stayed her hand. Perhaps it was the way the chitin-armored figure was watching them. They stood casually, without visible weapons, as if they'd been walking through a garden rather than one of the most ruined landscapes in Tamriel. A passage from one of the training books Habi came back to her: be wary of the brave elf who carries no sword, for the tombs are filled with guards pierced with blade unseen and spell unwarded.
"Ho, traveler." The figure raised a hand in greeting. The voice was male, and seemed odd. "You're that priest, ain't ya?"
"Yes." Neither Habi or Erandur were less suspicious now that they knew this elf was from Balmora. Everyone on the island were from Balmora or the Telvanni properties; they were the only places ships could dock, and only Redoran and Telvanni captains knew how to navigate the boiling seas of steam and hidden rock. "Strange, to see you walking alone. By Mara, I could have sworn the captain of the guard gave standing orders that none were to leave the city without escort or special permission."
"Huh. Guess I got that permission, then." The elf pointed past them. "Besides, I ain't alone. Brought a friend with me. Banuril Hlavos."
"I know that name," Habi whispered, touching Erandur's shoulder. "He attended classes with me."
"Alright." Erandur didn't take his eyes off the chitin-clad elf. "Go look. But be careful. If you find trouble, scream."
"Okay." Habi drew her spear and vanished into the murky haze. If I find trouble, I'm going to run it through. The thought of screaming like a handmaiden seemed beyond her ability. She'd almost rather die. But, probably better to avoid both. She counted her steps away from Erandur carefully. Unlike him, Habi had no tracking spell to guide her home. It wasn't long before she heard footsteps.
"Hello?" She called out into the nothingness, her spear at the ready. I'm no fool. This has to be a trap. But if someone thought they were going to rob or kidnap the last Ashlander so easily, they were in for a pointy surprise. "Banu?"
To Habi's astonishment, it was her old classmate that stumbled forward. Banuril looked a wreck. His noble clothes were filthy and torn, and his short red hair was going up in all directions. He wore no face protection from the elements. In his arms, Banuril carried a wrapped package.
"Habisunilu." Banu looked up at her, eyes hazy. "You shouldn't be out here. Too dangerous."
"What's that you're carrying?"
Banu looked down at the package, as if noticing it for the first time. He slid one hand past the wrapped folds and withdrew a handful of pink meat, dripping with unknowable fluids. Habi was glad her nose was protected by cloth. Her mask also served to hide her disgusted expression as Banu brought the meat to his mouth and noisily ate it, redness running down his chin.
"Hungry?" He offered.
"Um. No thank you." Habi lowered her spear. "By Azura, Banu, what are you doing so far outside the walls? Your mother must be worried sick. And who's that weird f'lah back at the boulder?"
"A friend. Helping me find the path." Banu tapped his forehead. "She came to me, in my dreams. Helped me see."
"See what?"
"Helped me see...what I always knew, I suppose. Or at least suspected. But now I don't have to hold back. It's wonderful!"
"Ah." Habi had a feeling this was some religious ritual she didn't understand. Although she left offerings for the Good Daedra at the Temple, like any Oblivion-fearing Dunmer would, her worship had always veered more towards her ancestors. "So you're safe, then?"
"Of course." Banu reached for more of his meat. "Sure you don't wanna come?"
"Pretty sure." Erandur's sharp whistle split through the air. "I have to go now. Bye!"
"Farewell!"
Habi sprinted back towards the boulder, her thoughts racing in all directions.
"Is there a problem here?" Another person had joined the chitin wanderer. She wore bonemold, like one of the city guards, but sounded like no elf Habi had ever encountered. Unlike her companion, she was armed with a long silver dagger.
"That is for you to decide." Erandur seemed tense, now. Habi knew that to be certain of victory, they should have at least two and a half times the numbers of their enemy. Now they were evenly matched, or outnumbered if Banu came at them from behind. No good. No good at all.
"These folks were just passing by, Liz." The chitin elf said. "Hey. Spear girl. You met Banuril, didn't ya? He seem okay to you?"
"I..." Habi swallowed. "I think so." Unless you poisoned him, or used some spell on his mind, or...
But she was in no position to make demands any longer. And the two of them must have known that as well, for they started to walk past Erandur without fear. Habi raised her spear to join with his mace, but the strangers paid them no mind. She watched as they vanished into the ash, their footsteps trailing off like the dying beats of an old clock.
Erandur stared after them for a long while.
"Are you worried about your friend?" He asked, eyes narrowed. What he was really asking was: do you want me to go kill those two and try to save him? But Habi couldn't be certain that the strangers had malevolent intent, and Erandur could get hurt or killed going after them. Besides, Banu was an adult now, just like her. He had to make his own decisions.
"He's not my friend," Habi replied. "And he seemed pretty clear-headed, now that I think about it. I think he's going with them willingly."
"Hmm." Erandur clipped his mace back on his belt. She stowed her spear. "That is all the more disturbing. I'll have to speak with Azarien when we return. He'll want to know about this."
"Azarien, huh?" She tried to keep the excitement from her voice, in light of their bizarre encounter. "I didn't know you were on a first name basis with the captain of the Redoran Guard."
"He's curious about the Aedra," Erandur replied. They resumed their journey east, a bit more cautiously. "We have tea every Middas and Loredas. I could put in a good word for you, if you wished."
"No. I want to beat the trials on my own merits, not because I had a friend who knows Captain Bedas."
"I thought you might say as much." Erandur grinned. "I think you'll make a wonderful guard, Habisunilu. The vagabonds of Vvardenfell have no idea what's coming for them. Your test starts just before midnight, correct? I intend to be your most vocal supporter."
"Yeah. I'm not the only one being tested. Living in Balmora gets awfully boring sometimes, so half the city shows up to these trials. But it's not a game of Redguards and Orcs. Vvardenfell Dunmer take these challenges very seriously. So please don't cheer for me, or I might die of embarrassment right there on the field."
"I'll try to contain my excitement. But no promises."
Habi rolled her eyes, but was secretly elated that Erandur would be watching her trial. Father had died only a year ago, and she had few friends who liked her enough to make an appearance. Passing the trials would be a personal victory, of course, and she needed no one else...but having a friend to celebrate with wouldn't hurt.
They continued the trek in silence. Gradually the clouds of ash cleared, and Vvardenfell faded into view around them. Small streams ran down the hills, lightly dusted in struggling grass. A few mushrooms towered over the road, likely planted by the first elves to return after the Red Year. This was where the swampy marshlands of the Bitter Coast had once met the western highlands of the West Gash. Now both regions were mere shadows of their former selves, but every year the Odai River rushed into Balmora higher and more clear of ash, and new and returning flora sprouted up outside the walls. Nadene had said to her once: ash is a damn good fertilizer. Habi had even heard talk on the street of rebuilding Seyda Neen, that historic little village where the Nerevarine had made first landing.
Habi had a vision of leading a group of settlers to the old swamp, and guarding over them as they rebuilt what had been lost. Sometimes she closed her eyes and could almost imagine herself standing on the new dock, looking out at the Inner Sea. That'd be some way to welcome Nadene back to Vvardenfell.
Lost in her daydreams, Habi nearly failed to notice how unusually quiet Erandur was being.
"What's wrong?" She asked. The beige stone walls of Balmora were in sight now, coming up around the bend.
"I've been pondering. The woman at the boulder." Erandur scratched his chin. "Her voice. Did it seem very...local, to you?"
"Both of them sounded strange. Maybe they were ill."
"Aye. I've been thinking...I think she was a Nord."
"Impossible. You and Akh'idzo have been the only outlanders to arrive in months. Neither of those strangers were Khajiit, I'm pretty sure, so they had to be Dunmer."
"I spent a long time in Skyrim, Habi." His eyes darkened. "Yes. I know a Nord when I hear one. And the other one, in the chitin, had the scent of death around him."
"I couldn't smell anything." But her instincts had told her to be wary of the strangers, and the Nerevarine had told her always to trust in her gut. "But...I suppose they both seemed a little dangerous. Maybe I should join you and the captain. I could help you figure out what's going on."
"No. You ought to focus on your trials. Let me worry about this nonsense." Erandur raised a hand in greeting. The guard at the gate returned the gesture, and signaled to his counterpart above to raise the portcullis.
"Your trip to the tomb go alright, Habi?" She recognized the voice of Dalvis Renobar. He'd been one of the guards who helped her get through the hard times, after her father died.
"Yup. Ash storms haven't been too bad, lately. Only took us a few minutes to clear away the door."
"Glad to hear it." Dalvis waved them through. "Good luck with your trial!"
Habi's response was lost in the noise of the afternoon market. Though only a few minutes had passed since the ash storm ended, merchants had quickly flocked to the streets to offer their wares. The speed at which a seller could set up their stall after a storm determined their success; her father had been particularly quick, even towards the end. Neither of them paid the hawkers much attention as they passed. Habi was consumed with thoughts of training, their strange encounter already fading from her memory, even as Erandur seemed to grow more troubled.
"Meet you later?" They stopped at the bridge into High Town district.
"Yes." Erandur smiled, though he still seemed distracted. "Before the trials, certainly. You'll be at the manor?"
"Yup." They moved aside to let a few Dunmer pass. "I don't have any spare energy to use on social interaction today, and I practice best in the garden."
"If you say so," Erandur replied, a knowing glint in his eye. Though they didn't argue about much, her chosen isolation in her family's old manor was a sore spot between them. "You're right. You should focus on tonight, and prepare in whatever way is best for you."
"Don't worry about dinner. I don't think I could eat, anyway, and there are some spare guard rations around I snagged from the barracks."
They went their separate ways. Habi watched Erandur go, his burnt orange robes vanishing quickly in the crowds. He was like no priest she'd ever met. The Dunmer in the Balmora Temple were old and decrepit, and shuffled around their shrines like bonewalkers. She was pretty sure they sometimes forget which Tribunal they were meant to be worshiping. Erandur was old, too, but in a different fashion. It had eluded Habi, for a while, who he reminded her of. Then she'd received her monthly letter from Solstheim, and everything fell together. Erandur carried his years on the inside, just like Nadene.
Can't waste time thinking about other people, today. She shook her head to clear her thoughts and continued into High Town. The aroma of freshly planted gold kanet from the community garden filled the air. For a long time, Habi had resented living in the wealthy part of town, considering it an affront to her family's heritage. She'd confronted her father about it, once, about a year before he died. The memory darkened her thoughts.
"Our place here," he'd said, stringing his harp, "was bought with the blood and tears of generations."
"But our ancestors roamed the ashlands with little more than the clothes on their backs." Habi waved her hands at the manor walls. "We don't need four bedrooms, or a kitchen, or harps!"
"What you need, Habisunilu, is a lesson on holding your tongue." Her father looked up. "The Nerevarine didn't save us from the choking ruins of our ancestral lands so that two centuries later some ungrateful wench could bay about how easy her life is."
"I'm sorry." She looked down at her shoes. Her father rose to his feet, harp string twisted between his fingers. "I didn't mean it."
Habi nearly ran into a guard, and the memory was banished.
"Excuse me," she said, and was surprised to see Captain Bedas looking down at her. "Oh, Mephala. I'm so sorry!"
"You're fine, girl." Bedas grinned. "A bit distracted, are you? Worried about tonight?"
"Um, yeah." Habi swallowed. She'd only spoken to the Captain a handful of times, and her nerves always got the best of her. "Err, my priest friend wanted to talk to you..."
"Erandur? Aye, we're having tea together in..." Bedas glanced at the sky. "B'vek. I'm late. I have to be going, applicant Habisunilu. Best prepare for your trials."
She watched him go, a dangerous seed of curiosity growing in her. Maybe I'll go pay Erandur a visit after I practice, and see what Bedas thinks about what happened. A good portion of the trials tonight would be scenario-based, and getting inside the mind of a veteran guardsman certainly wouldn't hurt her chances. And all the better if she could learn more about the strangers they'd encountered. Habi walked slowly up the steps to the manor, brow furrowed in thought.
Habi crouched low, her sore legs aching in protest.
"What you've told me, Erandur..." Bedas sighed. "You mustn't tell another soul. The truth is, the Hlavos boy isn't the first to go missing in this way. We've had almost a dozen elves leave the city since Last Seed."
"Abducted?"
"No. Otherwise, there'd be a crowd of people outside my office demanding answers. All these Dunmer made arrangements. The ones with families asked their kin not to report them missing. They slipped out between guard shifts, often at night."
"The more I learn about this, the less I like it." Habi heard Erandur sit down. "There's nothing out there in the wastes but certain death. What are these elves hoping to find? The Telvanni?"
"I sent the magelords a missive after we figured out what was happening. To my surprise, they actually responded, and said a few of their people had vanished as well. One of them was even a noble. Left his tower behind and everything."
"Have they had any luck searching?"
Bedas laughed, coming closer to the door. Habi held her breath and moved away slightly, looking down the hallway to make sure no one was coming.
"No harm meant, Erandur, but only an outlander would ask that question. Let me put in a way someone from Skyrim would understand: the Telvanni are a lot like the dragons. They don't usually bother one another, might even help each other out, every once in a while. But when a dragon's friend goes missing, he doesn't call his local guardsmen. He moves in on his friend's territory, and praises his own cunning."
"I think I understand," Erandur replied after a moment's hesitation. "So the Telvanni assume their missing are dead, or off conducting some personal experiments. Either way, they don't care. I dearly hope things are different here in Balmora. Have any of our dozen been found?"
"Two. One, a guard patrol discovered dead not far from town. Seems she was caught out in an ash storm. Another one we caught trying to steal supplies from the guard barracks. A fisherman from Labor District, had lived in Balmora his whole life. 'Twas from him we learned all we know."
"Was?"
"S'wit hung himself in his cell with his own pants. Never seen anything like it."
"Mara's mercy," Erandur said. "Surely there must be some dark forces at work here."
"Maybe so. The fisherman told us that a woman came to him in his dreams, told him his true purpose in life. He told us he'd been waiting all his life for someone like her."
"Dreams?" Erandur must have stood up quickly, because his chair shrieked loud enough to make her wince. "Tell me, Azarien. This is absolutely essential. Did the fisherman speak of dreams, or nightmares? I must know his exact words."
There was a pause before Captain Bedas' response. Perhaps he was as taken aback as Habi was, to hear the usually mild-mannered priest speak with such force.
"Dreams, he said. Spoke of them fondly, even when we had him thrown in a cell." She heard Bedas step forwards. "But know this, Erandur. I know we're friends, of sorts. But you don't know the history of Vvardenfell. If the Dunmer around here start hearing talk of dreamers, of people going missing in the night...there will be a panic. Riots, fights, chaos like you'd never imagine. There are still families here who lost cherished ones to the Sixth House."
"The Sixth House?" Erandur sounded as surprised as she felt.
"Aye. I've been reading over the reports of the guard captain back then. Say what you will about the Hlaalu, they're damn good record keepers. So far, there haven't been any shrines popping up in the dark corners of the city. And our fisherman didn't speak of dreamers or sleepers. But the first time I hear the name Dagoth Ur spoken on the streets of Balmora...I'm putting all of us on a ship off this island."
Habi shuddered. I need to tell Nadene about this. She was still writing her next letter, fortunately. It would go out with the rest of the city's mail in a few days.
"You have my word. Our conversation will never leave this room."
"Thank you. I don't usually care to swear over tea, but desperate times, eh? I'd better be getting back to it, now. Have some preparations I have to make for the trials. We'll speak more of this, tomorrow. Decide on the best course of action."
"Of course. Wonderful tea, as always, captain."
Habi scrambled to her feet, and made it around the corner just as the captain's door opened. She brushed off her pants and turned around just in time to greet Erandur.
"Good evening, Habi."
"Hi, Erandur. Fancy meeting you, here."
"Didn't you come here for just that purpose?" They walked down the corridor, passing the barracks. Through the open door, guards were strapping on bonemold plate and laughing. "Unless you planned to speak with the captain before your trials."
"Uh, no. Definitely came for you." Habi cursed herself. How can I outwit hardened criminals if I can't even deceive a priest of Mara? But Erandur still seemed distracted from his conversation with Bedas. "Woof, my arms are sore. I did so many spear drills I've got them down to an instinct."
"Truly?"
"If you handed me a mop right now, I'd sent it flying over the river without a thought."
Erandur chuckled. They left the guardhouse behind them. The blazing orange light of sunset peeked past Red Mountain on the horizon. Oftentimes, the ash from the volcano would obscure such a sight. She was glad to see the gods had made an exception for such an important day.
"You seem nervous," Erandur said. They came to a bench looking over the river, and he beckoned her to sit. A plaque set into the polished wood read: In Memory of Nerevar, who Led us Twice from Flame and Ruin. They were alone on the streets. Everyone else was preparing for the trials, or preparing to go watch the festivities. She was already in her training armor.
Habi bit her lip. She wanted so badly to ask him about what she'd overheard. No time for that, now. You can solve crimes when you've actually passed the trials. "I don't know what I'd do if I fail. Walk off into the wastes, probably. Become a mabrigash. Lure men into my camp, and steal their vital essences." Her good mood faded as she watched the waters of the Odai drift past. "Die alone, like the rest of the Ashlanders." Like father did.
"Don't despair." Erandur squeezed her shoulder. "Remember your name, Habi. I haven't learned Velothi half as well as you've done Cyrodiilic, but I know enough to be certain you aren't alone."
"Habisunilu," she said wistfully. "Habi, watched over by the ancestors."
"That's right. They'll all be watching you this night, and whatever the outcome, they will still love you when the sun rises. As will I."
"Oh." Habi leaned against him, her eyes stinging. "Erandur. What I said to you in the tomb, about not being a real Dunmer...I'm so sorry..."
"You have nothing to apologize for." He pulled out a cloth and gently wiped her face.
"My father was...I always talk about him like he was some great elf, but..."
"Hush. It's alright." Erandur held her tighter. "If you ever want to leave that empty manor behind, you'll always have a place beside me. Though I must warn you, I often sleep on the ground."
Habi giggled, and sniffed. "I wish...I wish she was here. Just for tonight. Even for just a few minutes."
"Perhaps we can visit Solstheim after your trials, instead of the Telvanni. I hear they're rather cranky, anyway."
"Yes. I'd like that."
They watched the sun fall behind Red Mountain, lighting up the volcano's silhouette in shades of crimson and amber. For a few minutes Habi forgot about the tests a few short hours away that would decide her fate, and about the disturbing happenings Erandur and the captain had discussed. For a few minutes, she just wondered if Nadene was watching the same sunset, half a world away.