AN: Hey everyone, finally back! I've started playing Skyrim over again and have an idea of where I want the next sections to go. I'm playing it alongside writing this, so I'll be able to update once I reach each mission.

ArtimuosJackson: I'm not planning on having Thera get stuck in Apocrypha, but I agree that it shouldn't get drawn out. After Dragonborn there will probably be only a five to ten chapter (at the very most) section detailing the last battle between the two of them and seeing what they will leave behind afterwards.

PS, I probably won't update as often as I used to, given that I'll update as I play the game, but at least I'm back, huh? It's... good.

A special thanks to hauserjohn6 and Ten-Tailed-God for alerting me to the fact that this fic updated with text code. I don't know why it did – I updated another twenty minutes before this one and it was fine.

Jul

Lucius

The salty air of the ocean had a familiar, enjoyable chill to it, immediately bringing back old memories I had not thought on in ages. Every breeze carried with it the scent of a different battle, every chill a reminder of a different night on the plains of Whiterun hold. I felt other, more painful memories begin to dredge themselves to the surface, and immediately crushed them beneath my heel. I needed to remain focused and battle ready, not despondent and thinking of a woman I may never find. I glanced over to Dorthe as I finished strapping on my light, but incredibly sturdy, travel armor and disguise. It was comprised of thin, enchanted ebony light armor as strong as Dragonskin. The chest piece was covered by a long, brown leather duster reaching down to my mid calves. On either shoulder of the jacket was emblazoned the sigil of the Imperial Aid Ambassador corp, an Imperial Dragon over a nine sided shape, each line representing one of the provinces of the Old Empire. Dorthe was dressed similarly, though her uniform had a symbol of lower rank emblazoned on the armor than my own. Ostensibly, I would be here as an agent sent to curry favor with the Families who ruled Morrowind. Which, when I defeated this Miraak, I had little doubt I would. "Well?"

Dorthe glanced over, frowning at me. She still wasn't happy that I'd unilaterally decided to go gallivanting away off on an adventure tens of hundreds of miles from the seat of an Empire poised to take over half of the known world. "'Well' what?"

"Well, how does it feel?" I asked as the boat moved around the octagonal rock outcroppings rising from the water. The brown and gray sky flashed deep red for a moment, bringing an evil chill down my spine. "We could visit the memorial site on our way home, if you want."

Dorthe glanced up at the sky. "No. No, that won't be necessary, E – Luc," she responded. Her gaze fell and she crossed her arms uncomfortably. "Riverwood isn't home anymore."

I nodded simply and let her assume she was over what had happened to her. "Of course," I replied. She had to face her past on her own terms, as did I.

"Wouldn't you rather visit Morthal, anyways?" Dorthe asked, looking over at me with empathy filled eyes. She held out an arm and placed it on my shoulder and I tensed up, staring silently towards the rapidly approaching port. "Luc, she's... alive, at least. That's a chance."

"One that is very far off," I muttered, moving towards the edge of the boat and stepping off just as it reached the port, walking towards the entrance into the settlement with my hands clasped behind my back. My wrists dragged against the tip of Auri-El's Bow at the small of my back as I walked on, its presence reminding me more and more of... something yet to come. "Besides, there is more for us to worry about at the moment. We should meet with the leader of Raven Rock to make our intentions clear. Perhaps we will even find out what he knows about this 'Miraak.'"

I led Dorthe into the home of First Councilor Lleril Morvayn, the leader of the Raven Rock settlement on the isle of Solstheim. He was a middle aged Dunmer with lighter eyes than most Dark Elves and bright orange hair. He was wearing fine furs that seemed to give him more in common with the Nords on the mainland than with his own sharp featured bretheren. Of course, that didn't mean he was any less arrogant. The Dark Elves are a very unique people, especially since the eruption of the Red Mountain. A people of Daedra worshipers who had turned in droves to Talos due to the missionary work of the Old Empire after their diaspora from their homeland, they made up a very special demographic that spread across both my Empire and Thera's. They retained their usual disdain for most other races, especially the other 'lesser' Mer folk, but had a tense acceptance of every race that allowed them their customs.

I had learned much about the Councilor himself, as Solstheim had already been a location of great interest. Despite the drying up of its Ebony mines, the town was an important symbol to the leadership of the Dunmer, a recognition that expansion beyond the borders of their homeland did not mean abandoning their way of life. If I set about helping the people of the island, it was incredibly likely that Morvayn – a respected member of the ruling Dunmer family House Redoran – would petition his people's council to throw their full weight behind the Empire. And if the Ebony mine could somehow be reopened, my military's strength could nearly double from such powerful materials. "And to what do we owe the honor of an Imperial Aid Ambassador marching unannounced into my home?" the First Councilor asked, eyes sparkling.

I bowed low, motioning for Dorthe to do the same at my side. My sword and bow clanked together as my chest fell and rose in turn. "Councilor Morvayn, it is our honor to stand before you and offer ourselves as your servants in any matter for which aid is necessary," I said before locking my gaze with Morvayn's. While many Dunmer preferred it when other races deferred to a Dark Elf's will, our information on Morvayn suggested something altogether different. He respected strong wills. "And also to inquire about a matter on this island our Emperor finds of the utmost import."

"We aren't selling the Ebony mines. They're empty anyways," the First Councilor stated. He smiled bitterly and crossed his arms in his chair. "They're as ashen and dry as this whole damn island."

"The Emperor has yet to express interest in taking the mines, regardless of how much the metals flow. At least, to the best of my knowledge. No, rather, an assassin was sent from this island approximately three weeks ago. His attempt on the Emperor's life was unsuccessful, but he mentioned a 'Miraak,' and information found on his body led us to your town. Might you know where I could find this cult leader?" I asked.

Morvayn frowned and looked at the floor. "Miraak... I am unsure. It seems as if I don't even remember if I have forgotten. I remember a... temple on this island. Yes, that seems right," he muttered before glancing up at me. "Fine. There is a temple, I believe. Speak with my guard captain just outside of the city's walls and he will tell you where it is. First, however, I intend to make use of your promise of aid. Many of our guardsmen and citizens are... indisposed as of now, and there have been troubling reports coming from beyond the walls of Raven Rock, Imperial. Captain Veleth will have all the information you need on this topic. Aid him, then do as you will regarding this 'Miraak,' Sera..."

"Lucius. Legate Lucius Ashcroft of Cyrodiil, Sera," I responded with a military salute. It wasn't a lie, really; Legate was the highest rank I had attained in the military before my ascension to the throne. "And this is my protegee, Quaestor Dorthe Bladesmith of Skyrim." I motioned at the unamused Blade, daughter of a blacksmith.

"Then thank you, Sera Lucius, Sera Dorthe. Tribunal smile upon you," Morvayn responded. He gestured towards the door; it was time for us to fulfill our promises. Dorthe and I bowed once more, then exited the building.

As we moved towards the main gate of the settlement, I felt something drifting in the wind. I turned and looked over my shoulder through the mostly empty streets. On the other side of the town, at the edge of the sea, was a black spire surrounded by stone. Dozens of Dark Elves worked tirelessly to build a web like skeleton which surrounded the spire, and even from as far as we were I could hear their indistinct chanting. So that is what Morvayn meant with his euphemistic 'indisposed.' I smelled the work of a Dragonborn in the air. "This bodes ill," I grunted as I whirled my coat and began to walk again.

"What has ever bode well with you?" Dorthe shot back as the remaining guards slowly opened the door of the gate. The chains creaked for a moment before there was enough room for my considerable height to exit. As soon as we cleared it, the door fell and slammed into the ground. Ash flew everywhere, tainting my armor a dull grey. Dorthe's fared little better.

"I -" I stopped, listening closely. I held up a hand to quiet Dorthe so I could focus, then drew my blade and ran off.

"Em – Legate!" Dorthe snapped, chasing after me with blade drawn.

I ran through the ash doggedly as the noise of spells and the ringing of a blade through the air grew ever louder. Flames danced across my vision and, for a moment, I could feel my heart begin to race as it once had. "Dii qeth paar daar!" I felt the rumble escape my throat before I could stop it, and the world suddenly shook. But it mattered little. With Dragonbane glinting in the dull light, I erupted onto the scene of the battle. Two dull and decrepit forms which seemed to be made of ash were attacking a Dunmer adorned in yellow-brown armor – Bonemold. The Dark Elf, despite being outnumbered, seemed to be handling himself well. Still, I wasn't one to not help.

Dragonbane ran forward before I could think, the weapon burying itself hilt deep in the chest of the nearest creature. It turned slowly, revealing a hideous mask of pain. It was obviously an undead of some kind, likely one of those who had died centuries ago during the eruption of the Red Mountain. The blade in its chest did little to deter it, however, and it turned to attack. I grunted and pulled my blade out, using it to slice cleanly through the ash and rock club arm that had come my way. "Fus!" I shouted, and the ash of the creature found itself spread by the winds. I turned before the other could attack and unleashed a stream of powerful Frost magick, freezing it solid. Slowly, the magickal flames on its skin died away and I was left to place my weapon at my hip once again.

"Well, Serah. I'll have to thank you for that!" the Dark Elf shouted as he walked up behind me.

"Really?" Dorthe whined as she ran up and saw the frozen creature. "I missed out on the battle." I smirked. Ever the Nord at heart, she was.

After a moment, however, I sighed and turned around. With a smile born from feeling at peace from battling to save another, I said, "Captain Veleth, I presume? I'm told you have a job that needs doing."

Fahiil

Thera

"Here in his shrine

That they have forgotten

Here do we toil

That we might remembered

By night we reclaim

What by day was stolen

Far from ourselves

He grows ever near to us

Our eyes once were blinded

Now through him do we see

Our hands once were idle

Now through them does he speak

And when the world shall listen

And when the world shall see

And when the world remembers

That world shall cease to be."

That was the mantra that echoed in my mind as my body moved as a slave's, slowly building up... something. I could only scream in rage and hatred at whatever force had rooted me in the spot since I touched the glowing stone just outside of Raven Rock. I could comprehend things that were being said, though they sounded far off and vague unless it was the same hymn that consumed my mind. No matter what I did, however, I could not escape the prison of my own body.

Until suddenly, I could. The air rumbled with a familiar power and the wind shifted in my hair. My golden-red eyes went from glazed over to clear as the wind that smelled faintly of Dragon scales collided with my face. "... just like the – Ah! So you appear to be able to resist the effect by exerting your will. Fascinating! I would not advise touching the stone again. The effects of repeated contact could be...Unless of course you'd like to contribute to my investigation. It could be very enlightening to observe you. No? Do you hear me? You there! Halfling. You don't seem to be in quite the same state as the others. Very interesting..." I turned towards the source of the voice. It was a Dunmer mage, dressed in the rich purple and golden robes customary of the House Telvanni. His hair was sheared short and his goatee tapered to a long point. His voice seemed bored, no matter what he said and it was clear he did not care at all what anyone else thought. "May I ask what it is you're doing here?"

I frowned momentarily, then nodded. "You may," I responded as my faculties returned to me. This one could be useful. "Not long ago, I met members of a cult that originated on this island."

"Ah, the Cult of Miraak is sending out missionaries now? I see the hospitality they take to on this island is just as well received in the Warlands," the wizard remarked dryly, using the popular modern colloquialism amongst the Dunmer for lands that were not owned by the Houses of Morrowind. "Who are you, target of Miraak?"

I considered that question carefully. To lie to a Telvanni wizard was a... perilous prospect. Rumor – likely spread by the Wizards themselves – said that they could use Daedric Magicks most other races had forgotten or destroyed in order to play with the fabric of one's mind and see the truth of the matter. A lie could easily result in him abandoning me for either not respecting him, or – if my lie was not grandiose enough and he did not care enough to check who I was – abandoning me for not deserving his time. That I could not afford, given his apparent knowledge of this Miraak and – likely – other matters on the island. On the other hand, the truth of the matter could be just as dangerous as well. Morrowind's ruling council was a bunch of backstabbing oafs who would sell me to the Empire in a second if they knew my whereabouts and decided it was in their best interests. It was a danger that I could respect, even if I despised being on the receiving end of it. I decided on a... half truth of sorts. "I serve the true Empress of Nirn," I said quietly, matching gazes with the Wizard. His bored eyes did not look surprised as he gazed upon my red glass armor. "I am her most secret shadow, her right and left hand. Her blade."

"A Vampire then," the Telvanni noted dryly. "I suppose you have a name, Shadow?"

"Shadow will do fine," I said coolly. No need to reveal too much to the man before he was indebted to me. A Telvanni wizard would have friends in high places on the Council, friends I could exploit to strengthen my position on Tamriel. "And you, Wizard? Who are you? What are you doing here."

"Neloth, the greatest Wizard in all of House Telvanni, Master of Enchanting, Seeker of Knowledge Most Profane, and most powerful Sorceror on Nirn," Neloth replied, his hand flourishing and raising to the sky to make him look as arrogant as possible. He looked down at me condescendingly. "I am here to rectify a gap in my knowledge. Usually I would stay home and conduct my research in peace. Everything's so much more convenient there. But, given that something seems to be taking control of the minds of all the inhabitants, I thought it worth investigating."

"And why do you share my resistance to this... presence?" I inquired as I stepped from the waters surrounding the Stone. "Great Neloth." I added with a small bow.

The bow seemed to get him to open up, and he smiled. "Good you know your place," he said, grating my nerves already. It had been long since I had to allow another to believe themselves above me, and I suddenly remembered why I had stopped. Still, necessity breeds terrible actions. "I have gone to some pains to ensure that I am immune to many forms of control. I cannot say for certain which is currently protecting me, but it bears further investigation at some point."

"Ah."

He studied me for a moment, but did not ask me why I was immune. Likely, he had guessed already who I was and decided my answer was truthful enough while also respecting the cleverness of my lie. "You wish to know more of Miraak's cult, yes?" he inquired after a moment. His head cocked to the side.

"The Cult? I have no use for fools and weaklings following a mortal," I responded earnestly. "If one would send Assassins into the Dominion, I have only eyes for his throat."

The Wizard laughed approvingly. "Well then, there is only one path forward for you: I will tell you where his temple is located on this Island. If, of course, you aid me in an endeavor first."

I growled low. "Why is it never 'I'll help you then you'll help me?'"

"Because I don't remotely trust a Vampire to aid me after I give them information," Neloth said simply as he turned on his heel. I, unfortunately, could not disagree with his logic. Perhaps this one could be useful beyond his mere connections. "Come along. I have need for an Assassin such as yourself, and I would be delighted to converse on why a simple human who died tens of thousands of years ago wants you dead, O Empress of Nirn."