Happy New Year! How fitting that it's the Year of the Rat, as this chapter is dedicated to good old Peryite, the Lord of Pestilence. Please review if you continue to enjoy!

"You are bold. I honor your independence. You are one to teach the gods their limits. I hope the bards will praise the glory of your death in song." - Dagoth Ur

The fog fell on them like a smothering blanket, cloying and warm. It was strange, unpleasant weather, unlike any Gelebor had encountered in his life, but it reflected well the growing dread inside him. It was simple enough to say you were going to do something horrible to yourself, but performing the act was something entirely different. The secret. It can't wait any longer. Once we reach the Telvanni, it will be too late. He'd once heard it said the anticipation of agony was sometimes worse than the agony itself. He dearly hoped this turned out to be one of those cases.

The shore was close enough now that Gelebor could hear crashing waves, even through the muffling fog. Eldrus walked to the right of him, behind Kharjo. Nadene had taken the lead as soon as the silhouettes of mushroom towers had materialized in the distance. None of them seemed to be as tall as Tel Mithryn or even Nadene's late homestead, but Gelebor considered it impressive the Telvanni had managed to grow anything at all on the blasted island. Or, he would have been impressed, had the towers not represented the end of the line. The secret! Waiting will only make it worse. Every minute that passes is a betrayal. Tell her, now, now, do it-

"Nadene," he said quietly. "I need to talk to you about something."

"What?" She glanced over her shoulder.

"It's a delicate matter. Best discussed alone, I think."

"Can it wait?" She nodded towards the horizon. "We're nearly there."

"No." Gelebor stopped. "It can not." Kharjo halted with him, but Eldrus continued on obliviously until he walked into Nadene's back. She gently steadied the boy and then looked at Gelebor, concern evident in her face.

"Okay. Kharjo, would you mind waiting with Eldrus for a minute?"

"No problem. This Khajiit and the young elf will stay low and watch the towers for movement. Our enemy has likely preceded us."

She handed him a tightly bound scroll. "Here. I don't want us to lose each other in the fog. I assume you know how to use one of these things."

"Yes. This one produces a fire bolt?"

Nadene shook her head. "Fire ball. Much bigger explosion. Either aim it at the sky, or aim it very very carefully somewhere else, if trouble comes. Gelebor and I will be able to find you, whatever you choose."

The two old elves left them, walking off into the fog with their hands clasped tightly together. To keep track of each other in the mist, more than anything, but Gelebor still found the warmth of her touch comforting in light of what he was preparing to do. These could be our final moments. If I have to choose between destroying our love or destroying the Snow Elves, is there really any choice at all? The terrifying thing was how difficult he was finding the decision to be. Well, it's about to be done with. For better or for worse.

They sat down on a large flat rock on the edge of the beach. The edge of the dark sea was barely visible. Through a patch of clear sky, the twin moons shone down on them: Masser, turned an unsettling shade of crimson by the Vvardenfell air, and Secunda white as bone scoured clean by fire. Gelebor raised his hand and found it to be trembling.

"What's wrong?" Nadene frowned, and reached out for him, but Gelebor shifted away. "Please. We promised each other there would be no more secrets between us, remember? Whatever's happening, you can tell me."

"I can't. Or, I don't want to." He couldn't look her in the eyes. "I'm afraid I'm going to ruin it all. You're going to leave me, or make me leave. And if that happens again, I think I just might have to die."

"There's nothing you could say that would make that happen." Nadene respected his wish not to be touched, but she moved closer to him and tried to catch his gaze. "I love you, endling. There are no conditions, no standards. Not any longer. Once I've made up my mind about someone, nothing as small as a conversation on a beach can change how I feel."

"You can't say that. You have no idea what I'm going to tell you."

"Remember who you're talking to." He saw her smile wearily, out of the corner of his eye. "I've suffered more strangeness than most who walk Tamriel. But I don't want to go into battle with this burden hanging between us. Tell me what's the matter. I promise I won't be upset."

Gelebor took a deep breath. His stomach felt like a ball of iron. "I've been having visions. For several days now. Someone has been coming to me in my dreams."

Nadene went very still. She spoke carefully, "Namira? Or someone else? Please don't tell me they were wearing a mask of some sort."

"No. She told me who she was." He swallowed. This is it. "The Prince of Dawn and Dusk. Azura. I'm sorry, Nadene, I know I should have told you earlier."

"Azura?" Nadene snorted. "What does that fetcher want with you, of all the mer in Morrowind?"

"She's offering a bargain. Azura showed me an island of Snow Elves, nearly untouched by time, hidden away from the rest of the world. Then she showed me what's going to happen to them, without my help. An Imperial scout ship will land on the island, and following a series of misunderstandings, the last of my people will be wiped out forever."

"Sounds like some serious misunderstanding. And what does the powerful and benevolent Lady of Twilight want in return for her timely intervention?"

Gelebor turned his head. The glow of Red Mountain was apparent even through the mist. He nodded his head towards the volcano. "A total massacre of the cult of Namira. None must be left to preach the words of Azura's adversary. She seems to have taken it as a personal affront that another Prince has decided to launch an attack on Nirn from what was once a major outpost of her own forces."

"Petty and merciless. Sounds like Azura, all right. So have you decided yet? Whether to kill them all, or not?"

He took a moment to respond. Hadn't expected to get this far, really. "That course of action would seem to run contrary to our earlier discussions. You and I were going to be the voices of mercy. I don't know how I feel about taking so many lives in the name of a Daedric Prince. I don't want to see any more bloodshed. But…"

"This could be your only chance to save the Snow Elves from extinction." Nadene sighed. "I see your dilemma. One could even reason that this is the reason Auriel has preserved your life for so long. Maybe it's your destiny to exterminate this band of cannibals."

"I have considered that. You've had close experience with Azura. What do you think I should do?"

Nadene reached for his hand again, and this time Gelebor let her take it. When she looked at him, there was a bitter smile on her face. A cloud passed in front of the moons, momentarily darkening the beach. The air smelled of ash and salt.

"I did everything Azura asked of me, to save Vvardenfell." She patted the blasted rock they sat upon. "And here we are. Here I am, again, back where it all started. If I hadn't destroyed the Heart of Lorkhan, if I hadn't killed Vivec, then Baar Dau would never have fallen on Vivec City. Thousands and thousands of lives would have been saved, Divayth Fyr's daughters among them. I don't know if what Dagoth Ur was planning would have been worse for Morrowind, after what the Red Year did to us. I don't know if I could have found another way to stop him. If Azura is telling the truth to you, and she can see the future, then it means she set me on the path that led to Morrowind's greatest ruin. And if she didn't see the Red Year coming, then she can't know for certain what's going to happen to your Snow Elves, either."

"You're right." Gelebor rubbed his forehead. "Of course you're right. But if there's even the slightest chance that she's being true with me, then refusing her could be the greatest mistake of my life."

"Well, at least it's your mistake to make. Beats guarding a shrine for five thousand years, by my estimate." Her eyes brightened. "No one could say the monsters we're hunting don't deserve to be wiped out. Whatever you decide, Gelebor, you have my bow. I'll follow you into Oblivion, if you ask me to."

A wave of relief washed over him. At best, Gelebor had expected her to banish him from her presence forever. I must remember why I love this elf. "Thank you. It means the world to me to have someone like you in my life. You're truly not upset?"

She raised her brow. "Of course I'm upset. You didn't ask to have someone come into your dreams and order you around, no more than I did two centuries ago. When we return to the Urshilaku village, I'm going to pay a visit to the Cavern of the Incarnate. Azura and I need to have some words."

He wasn't sure who to be more afraid for. Her acceptance warmed him from the inside out, and for a moment Gelebor just closed his eyes and basked in her comforting presence. She leaned against him, sighing softly. For a moment he could pretend they weren't on Vvardenfell, that they hadn't come on a one-way journey to a cursed island on what was almost definitely a suicide mission.

"Do you think if we believe hard enough, we might get out of this thing alive?" Nadene asked. "I just want to see something pretty again before I die. Is that so much to ask for?"

"No." Gelebor stroked her neck. Her glass armor was cold against him, but her skin was warm like the coals of a hearth. "That seems perfectly reasonable to me."

"I've thought more about where I want you to take me. After all of this is over."

"Someplace cold, wasn't it?"

"Mmm. Not so sure anymore." Her breath was smooth, steady, like a heartbeat. Gelebor imagined he could listen to it for eternity. "Remember what I said at Morvayn's dinner?"

"Oh, yes. I believe you mentioned Black Marsh."

"It's not the most frigid place on Nirn, I'll admit. But Divayth would be overjoyed to have us live at his new tower there, I just know it. He'd never admit it, but he was so happy to see us at Tel Mithryn. Happier than I've ever seen him."

Gelebor grinned. "I'm glad. I was pleased to meet Divayth, and his strange and beautiful family. I'd love to go to Black Marsh with you."

"Marvellous. It's a date, then." He felt her smile against his shoulder. "I have something else to ask you. You seem awfully fond of Eldrus. And Divayth's babies liked you near as much as Divayth himself did."

"Err, I suppose so. Eldrus seems to be an upstanding young mer, and I'd not seen infants in such a long time. They brought a sad warmth to my heart." Gelebor cocked his head. "And that wasn't a question, Nadene."

"You've caught me. Here's the question."

She never got the chance to speak. The sky lit up behind them, and they both turned around in time to see a massive ball of fire arcing through the sky.

"Kharjo," Nadene gasped, and rushed to her feet. Gelebor followed her, but they had barely taken two steps before the fireball exploded in the air and rained flames and rock on to the ash fields below. By the gods.

They hastened their pace, running across the ash as quickly as they dared. It was difficult to see the small cracks in the ground in the darkness, and Gelebor tripped more than once. Nadene was more adept at traversing the wastes, but his longer legs managed to make up the difference. He could feel her gathering her magic as they went, almost as an aura of power glowing against his side. It was like running next to the rising sun.

"Hold on," Nadene said, peering across the plain. Gelebor stopped, nearly panting. "I think I see them. Crouched down, over by that patch of fire fern. Let's approach carefully. Whatever made Kharjo use the scroll might still be lurking around."

"Good thinking." Gelebor drew his mace and stayed close to Nadene's back. They crept towards the two figures hidden like mudcrabs in the sand.

"Kharjo," He called out when they were close enough. "It's us. Don't attack, please."

"Khajiit is pleased to see you return." Kharjo stood up and sheathed his sword. Eldrus held a small dagger of his own, but did not yet put it away. He glared suspiciously at the night sky, barely sparing a glance for Nadene or Gelebor.

"What'd you see?" Nadene asked. "Was it the cultists?"

"No." Kharjo held out the fireball scroll, clearly unused. "He seemed to be a Telvanni. At least as far as I can tell. All Dark Elves look strange and do strange things, but this one was dressed in a more peculiar manner than most. Purple robes, long hair. Young, for one of the elf races."

"Doesn't sound like Neloth." She frowned, looking out at the dark wastes towards the mushroom towers shrouded in shadow. "Probably one of his retainers. It was this Telvanni that shot a fireball at you?"

"Khajiit did not see where the projectile came from. He was more concerned with running away."

Eldrus interrupted, "Um. I saw it, ma'am. It came from behind the elf we saw. He just stood there like a statue, didn't duck down or anything. Didn't even blink."

"Good looking out," Gelebor complimented him. "Well, it seems to me our only course of action is to go out and introduce ourselves. I'm certainly not interested in killing any wizards."

Nadene replied, "You haven't met Neloth yet. But you're right. We're exposed out here, especially at night. Everyone stay low and follow me. Kharjo, keep an eye on the path behind us."

Kharjo nodded, his whiskers twitching. "Khajiit will watch our backs."

The fog had cleared and the light of the moons fell on the four as they stole across the field towards the Telvanni properties. If someone had wanted to shoot an exploding ball of flame at them right now, they would certainly have a good shot at it. Nadene and Eldrus might emerge from the blast mostly unscathed, but Kharjo was covered in fur, and Gelebor knew from experience that Falmer were not generally fireproof.

"Praise Azura," Eldrus said quietly, looking up at the towers in wonder. "I've never been this close before. How do the wizards grow 'em so big?"

"The Telvanni keep the methods of their arcane construction a closely guarded secret," Nadene told him. "I figured it out from a few stolen books and spore pods. Mine grew funny, though."

"Funny how?"

"It was short and stout. Not many branches, either. A friend of mine, Divayth Fyr, said that no Telvanni's first tower ever turns out perfect. He told me it was kind of like making hotcakes. You get better on repeated attempts."

Eldrus' brow furrowed. "What's a hotcake?"

Gelebor could see the docks now, a series of long dark shapes stretching out into the dark waters of the Inner Sea. He strained his eyes as Nadene and Eldrus continued their whispered conversation. There were still ships docked here, which meant that most of the Telvanni had to still be around somewhere. Either that, or the cultists killed them so quickly that none had time to escape. From what Erandur had told them of Balmora's fall, that didn't seem outside the realm of possibility. Namira's followers had turned the Dunmer of the city against each other using vile poisons, and then they'd picked off the survivors who still chose to resist the call of their dark goddess.

Even still, Gelebor had expected to see some sign of struggle or warfare by now. They passed a small guardhouse with nary a scratch on the imported wood of its walls. There were no guars in the small pen attached to the side of the structure. Strange, and unsettling. He'd come prepared to fight. Combat was something Gelebor could understand, even if he disliked having to resort to violence. Yet no enemies were presenting themselves in this quiet little holding. No enemies, and no survivors, either.

"No walls to protect them," Eldrus commented. "I thought all outlander castles had walls."

Nadene scoffed. "No reason to waste the building materials. Everything on this island is supposed to be dead. Kharjo, do you see any sign of the mer from earlier?"

"Khajiit thinks we would have come upon him by now." Kharjo's eyes darted around warily. Gelebor envied him his night vision, not for the first time. Even with the moons light at full strength, he disliked the look of the shadows surrounding them. "No. The Dark Elf has moved. Into one of the buildings, perhaps."

The largest of the towers was on the edge of the perimeter, right next to the docks. The other two were further inland, but all of the massive structures were close enough together that walking between them would not be a chore. Smaller dwellings of stone and wood were dotted between them, some of which had fungal roots sprouting from their tops. Towers in the making, I presume. The simple dirt paths were strangely clear of clutter or debris.

"Where are the Telvanni?" Gelebor asked, a seed of dread growing in his stomach. "Something awful happened here, Nadene. I feel we should leave with all possible haste."

"We're almost to Neloth's tower." She had her bow at the ready. "If nothing else, the old fetcher will have some potions and scrolls we could use in the battles to come. I'm not leaving this place empty-handed. Okay?"

"Very well." He would follow Nadene anywhere, after their earlier talk on the beach. It wasn't as if she wouldn't do the same for him. "Do you remember that spell you cast, when we were scouting the bandit citadel on Solstheim?"

Nadene paused. They stood in the shadow of one of the smaller houses, just before the fungal walkway leading to Neloth's tower. "Detect life. Can't believe I didn't think of that. I'll need to concentrate for a minute." She knelt down, resting her back against an empty crate. Kharjo stood on her left, his sword drawn, and Gelebor covered her right.

The spell only lasted a few moments, but that was all the time Gelebor needed. All around the Telvanni property, silhouettes of shimmering gold lit up through the walls. In the house they hid behind, three life forms were standing motionless in the main chamber. There were enough beings around here to field a formal Redoran dinner, but the air remained deathly still and soundless.

"Wow," Eldrus said breathlessly. "Those glowy shapes are all elves? How're they staying so quiet?"

"A good question." Nadene accepted Gelebor's hand, and he pulled her to her feet. "Let's go ask them. Do you mind getting the door, love?"

"Wait." Gelebor whispered harshly. "I'm not absolutely sure...but I thought I saw something move in this structure. A flash of excitement, in the corner of my eye. I could've been imagining things."

Kharjo's hand rested on his sword hilt. "This Khajiit thinks it best we not take chances, where the servants of Namira are concerned."

"This Dunmer agrees with you." Nadene beckoned them all to step farther away from the door. "No harm meant, Kharjo, but I wouldn't trust that elven armor to stop anything sharper than steel. You should take the lead, endling. Tell us how we should handle this."

There was an unsaid offer in her words: if you want to wipe out the cultists, feel free to start with this one. It sent a surge of power through Gelebor to know how deeply she trusted him to act justly. But could this be merely a test? If I strike down this intruder in cold blood, will Nadene turn against me? There was no time to ponder on hidden meanings and verbal traps. Even now, the figure he saw could be heading towards them.

"Very well," he said quietly, his mind racing. "I have an idea. I'm willing to wager that whoever is in that house, they haven't yet heard us. Or at least I dearly hope so."

"Can I help?" Eldrus asked, already reaching for the dagger on his belt.

"Of course." Gelebor knelt down. He gently took the blade from the boy's hand and then looked into his large red eyes. "You are an essential part. I'm going to need you to be very brave, at least on the inside. Can you do that for me?"

"I…" Eldrus swallowed. In the shroud of darkness, if Gelebor squinted his eyes, the child could almost pass for Vyrthur. Perhaps I will end up killing this boy, as well. Is that why you've kept my alive, father? To cover young faces in dirt and graveworms? "I can do it. I'm not afraid."

"I know you're not." Gelebor smiled. "But I'm going to need you to act like you are."

The air in the house was stale and still, heavy with the scent of unwashed bodies and rotten food. Three Dunmer stood motionless in the main chamber, their eyes wide open but as dull and lifeless as chips of crimson stone. Their colorful robes marked them as definite members of House Telvanni. Whatever their affliction, they did not react when Gelebor and Nadene slipped into the room past the set tables and hid themselves in the armoire. They reminded him of the Dwemer automatons that made short work of his fallen brothers under the ground. He wondered if the three mer were looking back at him, somewhere in the tortured depths of their minds. Every place we go, we find more souls Namira has devoured. I have the power to end it all, and save my people in the process. Eldrus began to cry out from the hallway leading to the entrance.

"Help," he whimpered. The sound seemed deafening in the near total silence. "Please. Someone."

From the depths of the dwelling came the sounds of cautious movement. As Eldrus continued to wail, and no one appeared to save him, the movements became more frequent and more hurried. The figure from below approached like a fox warily entering a coop of chickens. The cellar door opened silently. Gelebor and Nadene watched through the crack in the door of the armoire. He could feel her heart beating against his side.

The bloodstained Nord crawled into view, his wide eyes like shining beacons in the red ruin of his face. He was built like a bull, short and stocky, and on his back was a shield shaped like a bowl facing out. The stink of him filled the house and sent Gelebor's stomach rolling. Like a butcherhouse left open to the sun. Thin wisps of brown hair extruded from the sides of his head at strange angles. In one of his meaty, blood-soaked hands: a long butcher's cleaver.

"Momma," Eldrus cried. "Help me. I hurt my leg, I can't move it no more."

The Breton crawled faster across the floor, his mouth hanging open. He was slavering like a starved hound, and crimson saliva dripped from his chin and stained the carpet beneath him. He was nearly to Eldrus, now. Gelebor reached for his mace.

"Someone, you have to-" Eldrus gasped. "Oh. H-hello. You scared me."

There was no response. Gelebor pushed open the door as quickly as he dared, and he and Nadene unfolded themselves from the armoire. Kharjo will do his part. He would not let Eldrus fall into harm's way.

"A boy." The voice of the Nord, simple and thick, like he was speaking through a mouthful of ground sausage. "Thought you was a boy. Ain't seen none of those around here. Guess them wizard fellows ain't much in the business of makin' whelps. Heh."

"Can you help me?" Eldrus asked, his voice shaky. "I can't find my momma."

Heavy footsteps, in the hallway. The Nord had risen to his feet. Gelebor and Nadene moved towards the hallway, with painful slowness.

"Your ma." The Nord chuckled. "If she was 'round here, fella, I probably strung her up downstairs by now. Put a hook through her grayskin back. Tell you the truth, I'm growin' mighty sick of eatin' gray. Meat's tough and dark. Too much muscle. But look at you, now. A fat little bird, sent from Namira just for ol' Hogni. Take off your boots, son. Let me get a look at those little toes."

Eldrus screamed. Gelebor rushed forward, Nadene close behind him.

Hogni stood over Eldrus, the meat cleaver held high. Kharjo fell on him from above, his sword flashing out like a sharpened claw. There was a shout of pain. Blood gleamed in the air like drops of ruby rain, but Hogni spun away with a curse, slipping past Gelebor, and pulled the strange shield from his back.

"Stay away," Kharjo snarled. Eldrus lay on the floor behind him, breathing heavily.

"Fuckin' grayskins and cats." Hogni spat red on to the carpet. There was a heavy cut on his side, but the hands that held the meat cleaver and shield were unwavering. "Where in the Void did you folks come from?"

"Doesn't matter," Nadene said, the air around growing charged as she prepared a spell. "You're outnumbered, and wounded. Give yourself up, and we might let you live."

"Heh." Hogni's face was wide and ugly, and when he grinned, the dried blood on his face cracked. "Got some magic, do ya? Some special little spell? So did these other greyskins, them that lived here." He turned to one of the petrified Dunmer and swung his cleaver. The mer's neck exploded in crimson, and he crumpled to the ground like a withered sapling.

The look of that shield…unsettling. Gelebor's eyes widened. "Nadene, wait-"

She fired the spell at Hogni. He caught the emerald orb on the bowl shield, and it dissipated across the surface in a flurry of sparks.

"No." Nadene took a step back, fear in her eyes. "That's...not possible."

"Why don't ya try it again?" Hogni suggested, and then he sprinted towards her. Gelebor rushed to intercept. No!

Too late. Hogni knocked Nadene's bow from her hands just before she could aim her arrow, and then came the cleaver, inevitable, impossible, an image burned into Gelebor's memory like a searing brand. Singing metal and slicing flesh.

Nadene howled, blood running down her face in rivers. Gelebor's heart burned like the stone that had brought them to this cursed island, and he saw the cleaver in the air again. Hogni moaned in lust and rapture. The fury burst from Gelebor all at once, like a fire birthed from dwarven oil.

He slammed into the thinly clothed Nord with the full weight of the Snow Prince's armor. Even so, Hogni remained on his feet. Gelebor's mace was on the ground, discarded. He gripped the wrist holding the cleaver and kept it from moving, as best he could. The cannibal's breath was on his face, hot and wet, like a hearthfire fed with the bodies of the young. Little by little, Gelebor was overpowering him. Nadene's sobs of agony filled his ears and tore his soul to ribbons.

Hogni's teeth came together an inch from his throat, once and then twice. He's an animal. Nothing but a bloody beast. The third time, he felt Hogni's chin brush against his, and his anger reached a boiling point. Gelebor swung back his head and then brought it forward like a battering ram. Teeth and other small bones were smashed under his forehead. The destruction he wrought felt just; it felt like what he had been put on Nirn to do, all those thousands of years ago. He did it again and again until Hogni went limp in his arms and blood covered the both of them like a red sheet. His head was buzzing in pain, and there were stars in the corner of his vision.

"Enough," Kharjo said sharply, and then Hogni fell from Gelebor's grasp. He stumbled away, dizzy and delirious. "We need this one alive, my friend. As much as it pains Khajiit to say it."

"Nadene," Gelebor said, the word ringing in his mind like a bell. He fell to his knees and crawled towards her. She sat against the wall, one side of her all covered in red. She was whimpering, or that might have been him. "I love you. What is happening? I love you, I love you."

Weren't those the words that were supposed to make everything better? How could she just sit there like that? The stars in his head suddenly demanded his attention, and Gelebor had no choice but to answer them. The carpet was sticky and wet under his hands. His arms no longer had the strength to keep him from falling. He let his face hit the wetness, his eyes fluttering.

There was a little boy in the hallway, and behind him a door opened. The Khajiit moved in front of the boy, holding something long and shiny in his hands.

"You will not hurt the child," the Khajiit said warningly.

"Please spare me your theater routine." A Dunmer voice, high and commanding. "My patience has been worn supremely thin these past few days. I'm not usually in the business of exploding strange elves and catmen lurking about my tower, but rest assured I'm quite capable of doing so. Where did all this blood come from? Have you any idea how much that carpet cost?"

"Your tower?" Kharjo asked.

The conversation faded away, the words like ghosts in Gelebor's consciousness. Darkness beckoned, and he went to it gladly, and then there was nothing.