Morndas, the 19th of Morning Star, 4E202

Dark.

My eyes open and I see nothing. The sky is empty and starless. The ground feels cold under my head.

I try to stand up, and I feel a suffocating weight press down on my chest. I try to touch it, but my hands pass through. Black on black, I see nothing, but somehow I know that it's a boot.

I cough. I'm not lying on the ground anymore. A hand lifts me by the throat and I feel gloved fingers press into my neck. Two eyes watch me from the dark, unblinking. As though the dark itself is watching me behind a mask of gold.

It feels angry.

Saya gasped sharply and shot up in her bedroll. Her red eyes fluttered wide open, not a hint of sleep in them. She reached up to her neck and felt the collar of her shirt, drenched with cold sweat. It was a dream. Just another dream.

She sighed and fell back into the bedroll, looking to the side. Serana was still asleep. Slowly, the events of the previous day began to emerge in her memory. The Water Stone. The fight with Dukaan. The aftermath. Saya's face remained unmoving, but there was a certain hardness to her expression now. I should get ready for the day, she told herself as she closed her eyes and turned away.

Saya made a mental checklist of things she had to do as she rose to her feet. The first thing she did was grab her backpack and search for a new shirt to put on. She grimaced when she saw the massive torn hole in the shoulder, dried blood caking the cloth into a solid chunk. Saya had made the decision to camp just outside Dukaan's barrow because she was far too exhausted to make the trip back to Raven Rock yesterday, so she couldn't really blame anyone but herself for the consequences. Still, she wished there was some part of her that would've reminded her to do the laundry.

Saya tossed the dirty shirt aside and pulled on her boots and cloak. She could bear the cold with that much, at least until she could get a bath and a new change of clothes. She grabbed an iron pot on the way out of camp, humming some nonsensical melody. If only armor were this easy to replace, she thought. Her chestplate was definitely banged up, though it was nothing unfixable. Her left pauldron, on the contrary, was utterly unusable - at least until she got back to Eorlund.

If only I had a Skyforge on hand. Maybe then I could dry my shirt in a reasonable amount of time.

She stopped just as she reached the rushing stream just south of their camp. Then, Saya knelt down and carefully filled the pot with water before putting her hands inside. She felt a shudder run through her body before she managed to focus. She breathed deeply and slowly, allowing the magicka to course through her arms. Not a minute later, she opened her eyes and saw the snow melt beneath the pot as the interior filled with comfortably hot water. With a smile, Saya scooped up a handful of water and began to wash her face.

When she returned to camp, Serana was already awake and dressed. Most of the things that needed to be put away have been, leaving the two of them alone with each other and with the dreary silence that hung in the air. Without a word, Saya gathered what was left of her things and began putting on the armor. Serana watched her for a while until the quiet discomfort grew too much to bear.

"Do you need help with…?" Serana trailed off as Saya turned towards her. There was a cold look in her eye, one that almost made the vampire wish she hadn't said anything. Saya looked conflicted.

"If you want," she eventually said. Her voice was hoarse and monotone, throat still somewhat aching from yesterday's fight. Or maybe she simply caught another cold. It would be appropriate, given her recent luck.

Serana was almost a bit too eager on the uptake as she stepped up to the Dragonborn and began helping her out with the various straps and buckles on her armor. Saya mostly stood still, occasionally shifting around to allow Serana better access. This gave the vampire something to occupy herself with, but did precious little to alleviate the tension in the air or in her mind. Serana flipped back and forth between sneaking glances at Saya's face and completely avoiding her gaze whenever she realized that Saya was staring at her the whole time, a heavy expression on her face.

"Okay, and… done." Serana stood up, letting Saya stretch and move around to get a feel for the fittings. Once everything seemed in order, Saya gave her a wordless nod of approval and went to collect her sword. Immediately, Serana's smile faded as silence took hold once more. She shuffled awkwardly from one foot to another, struggling to find a way to start the conversation. "...hey, Saya?"

Saya stopped and turned around, looking at Serana. She looked tired, in far more ways than one. The dark circles under her eyes have only gotten worse over the past few days, but even the eyes themselves looked… wrong. There was a weight to her gaze, a scorn that she really wanted to voice but couldn't permit herself to. She didn't have the energy for it. And even if she had, she knew better than to think it would help anything.

"If you want to talk about yesterday, then I'm gonna stop you right there." There was a finality to Saya's tone that left little room for argument, so Serana simply stood and watched as Saya strapped Stormblade to her waist. For a few seconds, it looked as though she was struggling to maintain her composure. With a heavy sigh, she eventually said: "I'm mad."

Serana pursed her lips, bowing her head down in shame in habitual motion. "I'm-"

"I'm not finished." Saya turned around and Serana raised her head, flinching from the volume of her voice. The elf's eyes were practically gleaming with a cold, biting fury that made the vampire feel pathetically, terrifyingly small. "I know what you're going to say, so I'll save us some time. I know that you did what you thought was best, and I understand that without your plan we could've died. That's not what I'm mad about."

The Dragonborn took a step forward.

"I'm mad because you lied to me." Saya grabbed Serana's shirt by the collar, clutching the fabric between her fingers. Her brows were furrowed and her lower lip trembled, but still she spoke. "I'm mad because you knew. From the very beginning, you knew what would happen, you were fucking banking on it. But you didn't tell me. You didn't warn me. You just let me watch you die."

Serana's eyes widened as the Dragonborn's voice cracked, her last words echoing in her ears. "Saya, I…"

"I don't fucking care!" Saya shouted, letting go of her with such rage that Serana nearly fell over. Saya paced back and forth, taking uneven breaths as she could feel herself choking up. "You knew what would happen, and you lied to me. I told you everything, and you lied." Her voice was shaking, pain and anger seeping into every word so much she could barely contain it. "I took you to her grave, and you…!"

Saya's arms dropped limply at her sides before drifting to her face, the Dragonborn taking one more deep breath and exhaling into her hands. Her face felt hot and numb at the same time. Her throat burned. Her eyes felt like nails on Serana's skin.

"...and you just let it happen again."

Serana did not know how to respond. All she could do was stand frozen in place, realization sinking into her mind like a rock into water, sending waves and waves of disorderly thoughts crashing into each other until her mind was nothing but noise. "I'm sorry," Serana whispered. Saya looked back at her and saw the vampire trembling in her boots, as though she were bracing for something. For but an instant, her expression softened somewhat in sympathy, or perhaps in guilt.

"I know." Saya closed her eyes and turned away. She picked up her backpack and slung it onto her shoulders, walking past Serana as she stepped back onto the trail and walked away. "But sorry doesn't make me feel better."

As Serana stood there alone, her ears caught a faint sniffle growing ever farther from her.

We were at Raven Rock by noon. First things first, I got myself a bath and a new shirt. Should last me until the one I was wearing is out of the laundry. I also got my shoulder checked at the Temple, I took a potion yesterday but it still needed some work before it stopped aching.

Lastly, I made the decision to buy some medicine from… who was it, Ienith? Don't remember the first name. I figured that if I do get a cold, I might as well have something to nip it in the bud. Just hope I don't crush the bottle by accident while we travel.

The mine seems to be up and running again. At the very least, I think I saw some fancy-looking inspectors hanging around and talking about things with Crescius and the councilor's second. All in all, there's more bustle to the town. Feels nice to see. Reminds me of my days on Vvardenfell a little bit.

We left Raven Rock somewhere around three in the afternoon. With two Stones cleansed, nobody in Raven Rock seems as bothered by the dreams anymore. The few that still see them were the ones who spent a long time near the Earth Stone. One of them even said that the dream "felt angry" tonight. I can only guess that Miraak isn't very happy about our progress.

I think that a visit to Storn is warranted. From what I can see, the Earth Stone doesn't seem any different from when I last saw it, but I'm no expert. Besides, looking at the map, it seems like every other All-Maker Stone is on the eastern side of the island.

What was the one that Dukaan mentioned, was it the Wind Stone? It's a spit's distance away from the village, maybe I'll visit that one next.

Fresh snow crunched under Saya's boots. It has been a few minutes since Serana and she left the village for the Wind Stone. It was supposed to be a fast trip, there and back, hopefully without anything particularly troublesome guarding the obelisk in question. And perhaps it would have been, had Storn not insisted that his daughter should come with them.

Now, the tension in the air was palpable as the three of them walked in practically utter silence, stepping off the bridge and back onto a barely-visible trail in the snow. Frea made no attempt at disguising her dislike for the duty she'd been assigned. Her ice-cold glares made that very clear. Though mainly aimed at Saya, Serana had received her fair share as well - their conversation from a few days ago still very fresh in their minds. And while Saya seemed to shrug them off just fine, Serana's facade was definitely starting to crack.

"The two of you are quieter today," Frea eventually commented. Saya's ears twitched at the tone of her voice, that polite curiosity that reeked of know-it-all condescension. Internally, Serana was praying that Saya wouldn't snap back. "Did something happen?"

"Would you like a song and dance?" Saya's own words were seeped in sarcasm, though the tired hoarseness made her sound a bit more hostile than perhaps intended. Or maybe she was actively looking to start something. Frea certainly seemed to take it as the latter. "Last I checked, we were here to get a job done." Frea crossed her arms, falling silent for a while. From the twitch in her eye, Serana could tell it wouldn't last.

"If that is so, then do try to actually succeed this time. Bigger things than you are at stake here."

Saya immediately stopped in her tracks and slowly turned around with a disdainful look in her eye. In contrast, Frea didn't so much as pause her step and walked past the Dragonborn, barely acknowledging her presence. Serana's eyes darted between the two of them as she tried to think of a way to defuse the situation. She practically jumped out of her shoes when Saya suddenly grabbed Frea by the shoulder, stopping the much larger woman in her tracks.

"Alright. What the hell is your problem?" Saya asked in a low, hissing voice. If her earlier tone could've been reasonably mistaken for mere tiredness, the malice dripping from her tongue now was beyond doubt.

"I am looking at her." Frea's brows furrowed and she pushed Saya's hand away. The two women stood there, glaring daggers at one another. Then, her eyes shifted to Serana as she approached the two of them with a nervous step.

"Now, I think this is rather uncalled for-"

"No, no. Let her talk," Saya interjected, sticking out a hand to keep Serana at arm's length. Her eyes were completely transfixed on Frea's disdainful grimace. "If our dearest guide has a stick up her ass, I'd love to hear how she manages to blame me for it. Go on."

Frea watched her silently for a few moments. Then she shrugged and said: "Very well. I do not trust you." She crossed her arms once again, looking down at the much smaller woman. "My father does not know what he encourages by allowing you to walk in Miraak's steps. He was not there at the temple when you were seeing things, or when you read that accursed book. Even now, its stench pollutes the air around you."

"Frea, please." Saya was about to respond but Serana stepped in between them, placing her hands on their chests to break them up somewhat. She looked up at the Skaal, who regarded her with a scornful look. "Haven't we done enough to prove that we want to help?"

"How?" Frea chuckled grimly, raising an amused eyebrow. "Do you mean when you went around using the very magic Miraak used to corrupt the Stone to 'cleanse' them? For all I know, you merely traded one corruption for another. Have you even thought of that possibility?" Frea turned to Saya, who quietly clenched her fists under her cloak. "Of course you have not. The moment you got your hands on that power, everything else ceased to matter to you."

Now it was Serana's turn to be interrupted as the moment she opened her mouth to speak, Saya lightly pushed her out of the way and took a lazy step towards the Skaal. "Ah, I see what this is about now. Well, if we're playing reminder, then let me remind you of something, too." She took a lazy step forward, eyeing Frea with a hostile look, and poked her in the chest. "I'm cleaning up your mess. You can talk to me about failure when it wasn't your people who failed at their one job and got their sacred relics fucked up beyond helping."

Frea's expression warped with indignation at the Dragonborn's words. She grabbed Saya's wrist, her own gauntlet scraping against her bracers. "Watch your tongue, outsider. You are only alive to speak to me now because I overlooked your greed once before. But make no mistake - back then, it was only your life at stake. This time, my father risks the lives of our kinsmen by trusting you with this task." She released Saya's hand. "Know this: I do not trust you, nor do I share my father's leniency. This time, there shall be no second chances."

Saya's brows furrowed and the playful gleam in her eye vanished, returning to the same cold stare from before. "Consider that mutual." She pulled her hand back and walked past Frea, shoulder-checking her on the way.

Serana could do little more than watch her leave. Her mouth tightened into a line, knuckles paling around the fabric of her scarf. "...that was uncalled for," she eventually said to Frea. The Skaal looked at her curiously. Then just as quickly, her expression shifted to disappointment.

"And still, you take her side." Frea sneered and shook her head. She turned away. "I should have known better than to expect outsiders to listen."

And with that, Serana was once again left alone.

The wind howled against the snow-capped cliffs along the river. The clouds above were soft and light, nothing like the grey curtain that covered the sky the night before. On any other day, it would have been the perfect time for a walk. Instead, the Skaal around the Wind Stone were toiling away in snow-covered furs, erecting a shrine by a will other than their own, bereft of the very idea of rest. Pity, Saya thought.

She turned around, surveying the area. There was not much open space to maneuver around, aside from going back to the bridge. The steep hill could prove a good avenue of escape if nothing else, but there was no cover aside from flimsy scaffolding and the shrine itself. Perhaps the most impressive was the sheer number of workers present at the shrine, comparable if not greater than the ones at the Earth Stone. If she looked closer, she could even see a couple of rieklings among them.

"Well, what are we waiting for?" Frea said from behind and Saya's expression soured again. She turned to see the Skaal tapping her foot impatiently, an expectant look on her face. Serana stood beside Frea, shooting her the occasional nervous glance but otherwise staying quiet.

The Dragonborn sighed. "For you to quit yapping and get your axe out. This might be a big one." She turned back toward the Wind Stone. The pale glow emanating from it felt familiar, though somehow slightly different from the rest of the Stones. The one thing that stayed the same was the darkness undulating on the surface. It was almost hypnotizing to look at… Saya took a deep breath.

"Gol."

Her voice shook the very air and earth around her, like a pulse of energy reverberating through the atmosphere. Both Frea and Serana lowered into combat-ready stances, watching the blackness in the Stone swirl and congeal, growing deeper and darker with each passing moment. The water around the Stone grew restless, rising in uneven waves as the winds picked up all around.

And then, all was calm again, as though nothing even happened.

"Did… Did it work?" Saya blinked and glanced around, rubbing her neck to more quickly rid herself of the lingering ache. Then, as her vision cleared, she cocked her head in confusion as nothing seemed to change. The other two seemed about as confused as Saya was.

"Is everything okay?" Serana called out from behind. Frea gave her a side eye, but made no comment as the vampire stepped closer to inspect the Stone. "Did something go wrong?"

"I'm… not sure." Saya rubbed her chin, inspecting the Wind Stone up and down. Unlike the other cleansings, it seemed to be completely unaffected by the Shout she used. The enthralled Skaal didn't stop even for a second, continuing their work as they were.

Serana touched Saya's arm and she glanced back at her. "Will you try again?" Saya nodded. "Okay. Take your time." With that short exchange over with, Serana returned to where she previously stood. Saya waited for a couple seconds longer to even out her breath and concentrate on the Shout.

"Gol."

Once again, a pulse of energy rushed across the area. The ink-black corruption on the Stone's surface rippled with this new disturbance, and the ground itself felt unsteady under their feet. The water no longer moved in waves but practically defied gravity as it rose upward, stretching into unsteady spikes before it came crashing back down. Saya blinked, and all was back to normal once more.

"Gol!"

Again she shouted, and this time the pulse felt more like a rumble. The shimmer on the Stone was barely noticeable anymore, almost consumed by the pure black that solidified in response to Saya's voice. Out of the corner of her vision, Saya could've sworn she saw the workers pause in hesitation. The winds had gone still around them and Saya struggled to breathe in, the pain echoing in her throat and burning in her lungs. Her ears rang with a cacophony of noise. Despite herself, she tried again.

"GOL!"

For an instant, all fell quiet and still. Saya's eyes were wide open, locked onto the Wind Stone with full attention. And in that moment, she heard a faint whisper reach out to her mind and speak into her ear:

"Not this time, Dragonborn."

With those words, she saw the image of a golden mask flash in her mind. Immediately after, she recoiled and fell to her knees, head in hands as a surge of agonizing pain burned behind the eyes. Her skull throbbed and her knuckles turned white, nails sinking into her scalp and drawing blood. She didn't hear her own screams over the blinding noise in her own head. She did not know for how long she stayed that way, only that she faintly heard Serana and Frea shouting behind her when she came to her senses.

"-telling you, calm down! Something went wrong, we have to… Saya!" Serana quickly rushed to the Dragonborn's side when felt her eyes upon herself. "What happened? Are you alright?" Saya could only groan in response, Serana's words falling on her ears with about as much grace as a cymbal dropped off a mountain.

By the time her vision regained a semblance of focus, she saw the shimmering blue axe-head of Frjoskal pointed straight towards her. With a tired sigh, she lifted her eyes to look at the frenzied Skaal who stared her down as though she were a wild animal to be put down. "Get away from her, Serana!" Frea shouted and Saya suddenly felt the urge to punch her - only partially to shut her up.

"Again with the axe? I thought we already did that one," Saya mumbled as control of her breath slowly returned to her. Serana slid an arm under her shoulder, helping her stand up. "What crimes against humanity am I charged with this time?" Saya asked the vampire, completely ignoring Frea's presence altogether.

Serana grimaced. "You… might want to look for yourself." Saya looked at her with confusion before the two of them turned around. Immediately, the Dragonborn's red eyes widened.

She saw the Wind Stone, just as corrupted as when they first arrived. She saw the shrine, the stone arches of it bent and twisted in shapes she didn't recognize, somehow both recoiling away from the Stone and stretching towards it. Her eyes drifted down and she saw shapes reaching out of the soil, at once humanoid and unalike, unnatural, disproportionate digits of snow-covered soil reaching for the Wind Stone only to fall apart the moment they approached the shrine.

"What…" Saya whispered involuntarily and recollection flashed before her eyes. The vision from the dragon skull, the fragmented shapes and blurred impressions that made the hairs on her skin stand on end. Then just as quickly, it was interrupted by the burning imprint of Miraak's mask staring her down. as though mocking her from the Wind Stone. She winced as another sharp pang of pain stabbed her temples. "What the hell happened…?"

Frea's rage only seemed to grow stronger at the confused statement. "That's it, I am tired of this insanity!" She moved closer, holding her weapon in front of herself. Saya was just about to reach for Stormblade on her side when she saw a flash of magic coming from her side. Frea's eyes widened as she saw an ice spike hovering over Serana's hand.

"Not a step further," she said in a low tone, and Saya glanced at her with surprise. The vampire's expression was hard as steel, and her determined eyes didn't let Frea out of sight for even a moment. This standoff of theirs continued for a couple of seconds, the Skaal visibly conflicted.

Eventually, Frea's frustration boiled over and she roared, lifting her axe into the air. Then, just as Serana braced for impact, the Skaal turned around and threw the weapon into a nearby rock, the stalhrim blade sinking deep into the stone. A tense silence fell upon the three of them as Frea's breathing slowed and she seemed to slowly regain her composure. Finally, she walked over to the point of impact and roughly yanked her weapon out before putting it away.

"You have a lot of explaining to do to my father," she growled, and stormed off without so much as looking in their direction.

Serana waited until she was completely out of sight before releasing her spell. She sighed and turned towards Saya. "Can you walk?" Saya nodded, though it was a gesture devoid of confidence. Serana smiled wryly. "Should I help?"

Saya gauged the vampire with tired eyes. Even with her clouded mind, she could see the motive behind Serana's eyes. Their conversation from that same morning came drifting back into her consciousness, and she couldn't help but release a tired sigh.

"...until we get to the bridge is fine," she murmured. Serana nodded, her smile growing just a bit happier.

With unsteady steps, the two of them began to walk back to the Skaal village.

I'm pretty sure I could split my head open with a hammer and it would hurt less. Motherfucker. Guess I should've known he could pull something like that. My one consolation is that Storn didn't fare much better than I did - I asked him to do his shaman thing and see how the other Stones were faring, and he couldn't feel any of them either aside from the ones we've been to. Silver linings.

I guess we're going to Neloth next. I don't have any other ideas. Storn and I talked for a while, but all we could really agree on is that whatever defenses Miraak's put up, one word of power won't be enough to smash through. And I do still have that Black Book lying around from Dukaan's place, so maybe that could help, or at least get me in touch with Hermaeus Mora so I can get help from him instead.

Honestly, I just want to fall over and sleep the day away. It's been like two hours and the headache still hasn't gone away. And then there's Serana…

I can tell that she's trying to make it up to me for yesterday. It's like she's itching to talk but terrified of it at the same time. I'd think it was cute if it didn't make me feel like utter rubbish. I don't know how to tell her that I need to be left alone for a while without making her more upset but at the same time, it's not like I can just… put this whole mess off to the side and go for a mental health break.

Oh well. Off to read a demonic book, I suppose.

The horizon burned red by the time Saya and Serana reached Tel Mithryn. The waves crashed rhythmically against the ashen coast in a pleasant backdrop against the trilling sounds of netches that drifted by. The moons were already bright in the sky, overlooking their journey with a soft glow in the corner of Saya's eye that she couldn't help but be irritated by. Like a silent mockery that loomed over her head. She tried not to think about it too hard. Serana already commented on the wrinkles on her forehead once.

The levitation glyph on the inside lit up with a soft purple glow as it brought them upward to Neloth's chamber. The wizard was poring over yet another ritual of some sort, clearly very focused on it, but not to the point that he wouldn't notice their presence. "Leave the tea on the table, Varona," he said in that usual haughty voice of his, not even glancing in their direction. Then, a couple of seconds later, something clicked in his brain and he turned around. "Wait, Varona is dead. Then who… ah."

Serana immediately bowed in greeting while Saya gave him a casual wave. Neloth's nose wrinkled in a mildly annoyed frown and he stopped the ritual, turning fully to approach them. Then, with all the grace and courtesy of a person way beyond caring, he grabbed Saya's face and began to inspect her features. "...hello to you too," Saya said in an unamused tone.

"Stand still," Neloth commanded as he placed his hands on her forehead and pulled up her eyelids. Once he seemed satisfied with what he saw, he turned to Serana and began to do the same. A few moments passed before his brows furrowed. "This one has been touched by Mora. The influence is vestigial, but present." Neloth let go of her face and stepped back before turning to Saya. "You have been tinkering with the Stones, haven't you?"

"You could say that." Saya cast a side glance towards Serana. The night when she woke up and tried to kill her came to mind. "It's why we came, actually. We need your help."

Neloth allowed himself a sardonic chuckle as he returned to his desk, inspecting the site of the aborted ritual and scribbling down notes across multiple open books. "Of course you do. Well go on, then. I am dying to hear what you need from me this time." One could practically hear the smug smile coming through his voice. It vanished just as promptly as it appeared when Saya placed not one, but two new Black Books on his desk with a loud thud. Neloth's eyes widened briefly because he looked at Saya with a mixture of indignation and utter bafflement. "Dagon's eyeballs, you just keep running into these, don't you?"

"Hard not to." Saya shrugged, watching with amusement as Neloth inspected the two artifacts with bewilderment. After verifying they were genuine, he gave her an expectant look, urging her to go on. "I managed to discover the Shout that Miraak uses to control people. I've been using it to cleanse the Stones near Raven Rock, but it's not working anymore now that Miraak's taken notice." She shifted her weight to one foot and nodded towards the Black Books. "Does our leading expert on Mora have any suggestions short of diving balls-deep into these?"

"Cleanse them? With a Shout?" Neloth raised a curious eyebrow and straightened his back. He seemed to be deep in thought as he stood next to her, stroking his beard and looking at the Black Books intently. Eventually, his face warped into an irritated frown. "Knowledge like that is very specific. Looking for it in Apocrypha would be like trying to find a needle in a haystack. You'll need to be more precise in your search."

Saya crossed her arms, her frown mirroring Neloth's. It was as she feared, then. If it came down to blind luck, she could read damn near every Black Book under the sun and still not find the word of power.

It was then that Serana spoke up. "What if the search could be narrowed down?" Saya and Neloth both turned to her and she stepped closer between them, gesturing to the books. "If Miraak learned his Shout from Hermaeus Mora, then we do not need to search all of Apocrypha for it. We only need to find out which Black Book Miraak read to find it." Serana then turned to Neloth. "I've heard of such scrying rituals before. Would you be able to perform one?"

The magister narrowed his eyes, as though wondering if she was questioning his ability to succeed or merely asking if he was willing to try. Thankfully, he settled on the latter. "In theory, yes. But it would require a lot of time, and more importantly - something of Miraak's possession. I don't suppose you would have found anything of the sort in his temple?" He looked at the two of them. With a deadpan expression, Saya reached towards the table and put her hand on one of the Black Books. Neloth pursed his lips in annoyance. "...ah, but of course."

"How long will this take?" Saya asked, putting Dukaan's book into her backpack again.

"However long it requires. Multiple hours at the least," Neloth said simply, picking up the remaining Black Book in his hands. Saya's shoulders sagged at the answer. "But I will suffer no distractions in the meantime. Both of you, shoo." The pair exchanged a quiet glance and complied, gathering their things.

"Thanks," Saya said as she was heading out of the lab. Her ears twitched when she heard Neloth chuckle.

"Keep your thanks. You will be repaying me once this is finished."

We decided to stay the night at the apprentice quarters since Neloth didn't say we couldn't. Scared the life out of poor Talvas, I think. He really never expects to see us, you'd think he would know better by now. At least he gets along well enough with Serana that she had someone to keep her company while I unpacked.

I'm tired. Like really damn tired. Not even just from traveling, but from… all this. Serana, Frea, the Stones, Miraak, and then Neloth and his "repayment" - it's all just too much for one day. I want to go home, make myself some dinner, get drunk, and just forget about all this for a while.

Just as we were about to fall asleep, Neloth came in shouting for us. When I asked what happened, he shoved a pair of stone amulets into my hand and told me and Serana to put them on while we slept. Something about an experimental enchantment he wants to test. As long as my head doesn't blow up in my sleep…

Tirdas, the 20th of Morning Star, 4E202

Well, I'll be damned. I actually slept pretty well tonight. I asked Neloth what the amulets that he gave us were and, after his little examination, he said that they were protective talismans he made out of heartstone after Talvas told him about what happened with the Ash Guardian back at Frostmoth. He noticed that the Ash Guardian immediately became unresponsive to commands after consuming the heartstone, and also that none of the All-Maker Stones had any ash spawn working on them. So, he put two and two together.

The working theory is that something about the energy inside the heartstones makes entities resistant to mind control. Of course, he had no guarantee that it would work, so instead we got involuntarily signed up as test subjects. I guess I can't complain too much given that they actually worked.

Anyway, Neloth told me about his findings over breakfast. In his words, the Black Book we found at the temple was in no one's possession except for Miraak's for pretty much thousands of years and so, it had a very strong "auramantic imprint". As Serana explained later, it basically meant that the book remembered who owned it. Using the Black Book as a reference, he searched for another strong imprint outside of Miraak's temple, and ended up finding another Black Book in a nearby Dwemer ruin called Nchardak.

Which, coincidentally, was also the place Neloth wanted to send me to as "payment" for his help. He'd known about the ruin for a long time, and that it had a Black Book in it. The issue is, he hadn't been able to actually get the book out because of the defenses inside, and figured it was too much of a bother. So now we're going there together.

Three, grant me patience.

If Saya were to describe Nchardak in a single phrase, it'd be 'fucked right up'. Granted, she'd seen Dwemer ruins in worse shapes - one was barely a pillar in the middle of nowhere - but none of them were located in the Sea of Ghosts, with everything but the barely reachable entrance submerged hundreds of meters into ice-cold saltwater. The only saving grace was that some of the bridges were still just intact enough to come over from the shore, thanks in part to the bandits who made the ruin a temporary residence and tied together some planks to reinforce the flimsy walkways.

The actual door to Nchardak was locked behind solid metal bars. Saya was already winding up to give it a go with Become Ethereal when Neloth lifted his hand to stop her. "A moment. I will unlock the door." As he spoke, he procured a small cube-shaped device from his robes and placed it down on a small pedestal by the door. Immediately, the cube lit up with energy and rotated on the pedestal like a key. The bars descended into the floor within moments, leaving the entrance unblocked.

Without much further ado, Neloth pushed the door open. Saya and Serana exchanged a quick confused glance and followed. "What's that?" Saya nodded towards the cube in his hand when she caught up with him. The magister gave her a curious look.

"A control cube that I found during my last visit," he said simply, as though it were an obvious universal truth. "I was here alone then, so I only explored a small section of the ruins. I find that an assistant is crucial for this kind of dirty, dangerous work."

Saya raised her eyebrows. "Ah. Cannon fodder, then. Glad to know we're being put to good use," she said in a deadpan monotone. Neloth chuckled in amusement and continued onward through the dark corridor.

Eventually, the entrance tunnel opened into a wide cylindrical chamber. Saya's gaze naturally drifted upward, to the circular bands and tubes stretching across the ceiling and wrapping around themselves. The floor itself mirrored this appearance, cold grey stone banded with golden brass rings and massive green-blue lenses encrusted into the surface, all encircling a single round window beneath which rested a familiar, nigh-featureless black tome.

"So tantalizingly close, is it not?" Saya turned sharply at Neloth's voice as he approached her. "But trust me, no magic will open that. If it could, I would've already had the book. The Dwemer have gone through great lengths to protect it."

Saya hummed. "You'd think if that was their goal, they would've put it a bit farther from the entrance." She rubbed her chin in thought. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Serana kneeling next to one of the lenses, poking away at it. "Notice something, sunshine?"

The vampire lifted her head, pulled out of her thoughts. Realizing Saya was talking to her, she motioned for her to come closer and then pointed down at the crystalline object. "Those lenses here, they are similar to the ones we found in Tower Mzark, with the Elder Scroll. I think this might be the same kind of lock, but…" She pressed her hand to the lens again, as if unsure, and frowned when her concerns were reaffirmed. "I feel no magic coursing through them, like the mechanism is powered down."

"And we have no idea where the controls are, either," Saya finished for her. Now that she looked at it from closer up, she could certainly see the resemblance. She turned back towards Neloth, who appeared all too happy to eavesdrop on the fascinating conversation. Saya already mentally prepared herself for thorough questioning on the topic later. "I don't suppose you would have any ideas on where to start?"

Without another word, he placed the cube onto another pedestal and the pair watched as the bars lowered on yet another door - an elevator, as it turned out. As they descended for multiple long minutes, the muffled sound of rushing water began to undeniably reach them through the walls. Eventually, they reached another vestibule, much more dilapidated than the last, with crumbling walls and the ever-present sound of water dripping against metal grating the ears.

Finally, they reached another brass door and as they entered, a massive natural chamber opened before them. Gargantuan brass pipes stretched down from the ceiling, various control panels and switches lining the interior. At the end of a narrow platform, a number of familiar square pedestals overlooked the flooded ruins below. "There it is. Nchardak, the City of a Hundred Towers," Neloth proclaimed in a somewhat sarcastic voice while the pair looked around.

"What in the world happened to this place?" Serana muttered involuntarily as she looked down over the pedestals. She could faintly see the outline of sunken pillars and statues beneath the water that streamed down from the many openings that lined the walls, only a fraction of them actually intended.

Neloth was all too happy to answer the rhetorical question in his usual condescending manner. "Old stories describe Nchardak as the largest of the Great Archives of the Dwemer. It is said that when the Nords came to invade it, the Dwemer would submerge the city underwater and defend the only entrance until the invaders simply gave up. Dramatic, as legends are wont to be." He shrugged, walking over to the pedestals. "But in spite of any doubts I might have, one cannot refute that we are indeed underwater."

"And isn't that… y'know, kind of concerning?" Saya crossed her arms. Neloth glanced back at her and without a word, he inserted the control cube into one of the two pedestals. Immediately, a low rumble rolled across the city as the chamber filled with the sounds of machinery coming to life. Within seconds, Saya and Serana watched one of the massive pipes begin to do its work, rapidly draining water from the chamber and exposing an entire second floor beneath them.

"The control panels here show that the other cubes are powering the pumps on the lower levels, likely to control the flooding. If we can retrieve them, we can power up the boilers in this chamber and provide power to the chamber above us, where the Black Book is kept." With those words, he popped the control cube out of its slot and offered it to Saya. "After you. That door on the side should lead you to the workshop. Should be as sensible a place to start as any."

Saya took the cube with a measure of confusion and followed his gaze to another barred door on the far right of the chamber. Then she looked back at the cube in her hand and scratched her head. "And you're going to…?"

Neloth's eyes narrowed suspiciously and he raised a skeptical eyebrow, as though he was seriously doubting Saya's mental capabilities at the moment. "I am going to follow from a safe distance, obviously. What good are assistants if I am the one standing in the line of danger?"

Saya rolled her eyes and put the cube into her pocket. For a moment, she wondered if it was too late to take the elevator and leave him here.

I think I'm gonna have a bloody migraine again. I faintly recall Neloth saying something about his steward being dead and by all the sixteen hells, never have I felt so envious of a dead person. Thank the gods that Serana doesn't feel the cold, or I'd definitely come down with a fever if I had to do all that swimming. In the middle of winter. In ice-cold water.

It has been two hours and we have four out of five cubes. At this point, I am more than a little tempted to shove Neloth's goddamn face into one of those pedestals just to see if it works.

If I have to spend another minute with Neloth in an enclosed space, I am actually going to kill him or myself. Brelyna, if you can hear me wherever you are, I am so fucking sorry.

As the elevator came to a gradual stop, a familiar sight opened before Saya's eyes: the very same room they saw when first entering the ruin was now filled with light that reflected off the crystalline surfaces, and the air felt undeniably more humid as steam rose from the many vents all around. True to Neloth's word, their efforts in the ruins below seemed to do something. All that was left was to see if it would be enough.

Serana looked surprised when Saya turned to her and gestured to the glowing button in the corner of the room. "You did the honors last time. Go for it." The vampire blinked and then smiled, nodding. She stepped over to the button and placed her hand on it, pushing it down with a small click. The three of them watched as the hissing machinery began to move, the rings in the stone floor shifting and spinning around like massive gyroscopes adjusting some unseen mechanisms just out of sight.

Until eventually, everything settled into final position and a low hiss came from the glass pane and it slid away, a small metallic pedestal bringing up the Black Book into full view.

Saya felt a small involuntary shiver when she saw it. Even though she knew this was what she was working up to this whole time, she was still stuck by a peculiar nervousness when she saw the Black Book before her with a naked eye. The memory of her last encounter with Miraak was still quite fresh in her mind. What if she ran into him again? What if Miraak was baiting her to come by defending the Stones?

Her mouth tightened into a thin line. She was frustrated at herself for getting cold feet now, of all times.

"Ah, and there it is." Ignorant of Saya's inner mess, Neloth walked up to the Black Book with a self-satisfied smile. Saya wanted to physically tear that smile off his face, but she restrained herself for the time being. "Well then, go ahead. Be my guest." He turned around to face Saya and gestured towards the book invitingly. That act was enough to shake the elf out of her thoughts a bit.

"Not going for first picks, Neloth?" She snarked, picking up the tome from its pedestal. Now that she looked a bit closer at the cover, she could've sworn she saw it writhe at her touch.

Neloth scoffed. "Oh please. You are the one who wanted to read it." He stroked his beard, taking a few steps back for safety. "And besides, these books carry an unacceptable risk of damaging the reader's mind. I prefer not to expose myself to such influences unless it's absolutely necessary. Someone like me can find plenty of other uses for such an artifact." Saya raised an unamused eyebrow and flashed him a cold look. Neloth promptly cleared his throat. "Oh, but don't let me dissuade you. In fact, I am quite curious to see how my amulets fare under such direct exposure."

Serana sighed and shook her head. "I think what he means to say is, we'll be here if anything happens. Go ahead, we're keeping an eye on you," the vampire said with a sympathetic smile. It almost made Saya feel a bit better before Neloth cut in.

"Yes, and I'll be sure to take careful notes. Go on now." He made a shooing motion, visibly impatient. Saya decided it wasn't worth the time to respond and simply sighed, turning to the Black Book and opening it on the first page. Before her eyes appeared another title: 'Epistolary Acumen', by the Transparent One.

She turned the page.

I write these words with a heavy hand knowing what comes next for me. For many years, I have dutifully and unwaveringly served my Lady. I have shepherded many to her cause, bringing them purpose where there is none and offering them a guiding hand when darkness consumed them. Their voices tremble with respect and dare I say, adoration, when they call me by the many names they have created. To me, they shall always be my children. For I am a priest, and it is a priest's duty to guide others to find purpose.

Saya lifted her head to see a small, dark room in the middle of the night. The twin moons were full and shone brightly, their light bouncing off the marble floor and walls of the interior. In front of the window was an alder desk, behind which sat an elderly man dressed in golden robes. His back was hunched in a tell-tale manner, leaving much doubt to whether he could sit up straight at all. Most of his face was covered by a hood of the same golden silk, only a long discolored beard remaining visible to Saya's eye. Before him, on the desk, lay a scroll so long it stretched down to the floor.

He raised the quill in his hand and dipped it into the inkwell. The elderly voice in Saya's mind continued to speak.

I am not who I was when she first found me. I was young then, foolish and aimless. To this day, I know not what it was that she saw in me. Six decades have I offered in service to her. My body was the first to fail. And while my mind is still my own, I wish to commit what wisdom remains in me to paper. The day of my Purification nears. I hear the whispers in the halls - my children fear the loss that comes. They do not understand my decision, but I understand their pain. It is for them that I write this, so that my words may guide them even when I am no longer here.

Saya wandered around the room, inspecting it with a curious eye. There was a door leading out of the room at the back, and her first idea was to try and peek outside, as leaving the author's proximity was not something she tried last time. As soon as she touched the door handle, her hand phased right through. For a moment, she wondered if she could simply step through, like with Become Ethereal, and promptly hit the door face-first as though it were a brick wall. With a disappointed sigh, she returned to the old priest at the desk and peeked over his shoulder as he wrote.

I first met my Lady when I was struck with grief. I wandered homeless, young and broken-hearted. I left my town of no one's will but mine - but there were things I wished I could abandon. The sound and smells, my lover's lips on mine. Their voice that whispered in my ear sweet nothings. The days we spent together, and the dreams we shared - deep in the night, when no one else was looking. The fantasies and worlds drawn in the sand, beyond the stars, beyond the light and dark. The first love burns the brightest, I was told. And now I know, for it has left its mark.

Once again, the landscape shifts before Saya. She watches two young souls lie in the grass, giggling, whispering promises into each other's ears. One of them is a young man with long, wavy golden hair. No matter how Saya struggles to focus her vision on the other, she can't discern a single definite feature. And yet, there was a strong sense of familiarity in that figure, a subconscious feeling of beholding something beautiful. Perhaps the priest himself no longer remembered how they looked.

Then, a flash of lightning. Heavy rain falls from the sky. The young man stands before a town square, watching from afar as his lover lay motionless, encircled by a crowd. He runs. Day changes to night and back to day so many times he long lost track of it all. The difference itself matters not to him. He wishes only to be as far away from it all as possible. The sight is simply too much to bear.

Solace found in solitude was fleeting, this I knew, but little could be done to soothe my sorrow. My love was gone, my home forever ruined, and with them perished all of my tomorrows. Or so I thought, until I met her once. Then twice, and then she came by every eve. She asked me once what happened to my eyes. And when I answered, both of us would grieve.

Saya blinked, and she was back in the priest's study. In the light of the candle on the desk, she suddenly noticed that his eyes were covered with a solid white cloth. Blind. Still, his hand continued to effortlessly drift along the piece of paper. She looked down at the text once more and the world shifted around them once again. The man is older now, yet his Lady hasn't aged a day. He tells her stories, and she replies with song. Her voice is melodic and even, cool and soothing to the ear. And yet, there is no warmth behind her eyes whenever she looks at anyone or anything. Except for him.

Saya watched as days turned to months and years. The man has disciples of his own now, telling them of his Lady and her wisdom, but they look only to him for mentorship. They stand as one before his blind gaze but the moment he retreats to his chambers, doubt enters their minds. Only two ever truly stuck by his side. One was a hot-heated young man with bright red hair, as fiery as his temper. The other was a kind young woman with sky-blue eyes, who patiently held the Father's hand when he stumbled. It was only with him that they were ever found together, for they could not stand each other's presence otherwise.

A faceless face and nameless names, blind as sheep you follow still. My words are heard yet answered not - if I don't lead, then no one will. And yet I long for something absent, for something I had thought long gone. My Lady sees me, and she answers: she says I simply long for home.

Saya watched the priest pouring over countless books, maps and schematics unfolding on his table in an incoherent mess of shapes and symbols. His children look upon him and they whisper among themselves. There are too many voices to count, too many to hear. Before long, the young man leaves his side in fury. Before long, he can no longer feel the young woman's blue eyes upon his face. He feels alone. He feels cold. Almost like when he was…

A canvas torn to paint a void, an end where all can have a start. Two souls once meant to be conjoined, now scattered and bereft of heart. Lay waste to heaven, let it fall down into bone and drooling dirt. Transform a rib into a cage, imprison them in dark and hurt.

The priest stops writing and lifts a hand to his forehead. He throws back his hood and Saya struggles to look at his face. He opens his mouth and his voice becomes multiple, wailing and laughing and crying and screaming with rage.

With a click, the door behind him opens and a woman enters the room. She appears human, but only just. She wears the same yellow robes as he does, though hers shimmer with a cold, colorless light. Her hair is gold. Her eyes are silver. She looks disappointed.

Forget the joy of parenthood and let their children rot as well. They wanted to create a home, and they instead created hell - devoid of voids, devoid of light. Away from mind, away from sight, forget it all and run it through. When they are gone, we'll start anew.

Saya watches as the old priest claws away at his blindfold until the dry skin gives way to flesh. He grabs the quill with trembling fingers and gouges them out, burning blood spilling down his face. The woman shows no sign of fear at this, only letting out a disappointed sigh as she approaches the priest who screams with manifold voices.

So bring ye forth the lovestruck mute who preys with vigor on his love, and set the sky alight with all who dare to struggle 'gainst our move.

In his madness, the priest knocks over the inkwell on his desk and black liquid spills all across the scroll, yet the text on it is somehow still readable. Its words echo in Saya's mind, drowning out the priest and his Lady as she asks him something in a stern voice. The priest only screams louder at her inquiry, his fingertips slowly turning transparent.

For we are they who own the night, and all who dwell without as fall; we drink the mind-grapes formed of thought and wail a tumult on the wall.

The priest falls to the floor and weeps bloody tears. The marble walls around them turn to cold granite, a dreary cave surrounding them. His hand reaches where his beard ought to be and finds nothing but a stubble. He screams for his children to come, for his son to help him to his feet and for his daughter to take his hand. No one answers. No one was ever there to answer.

To sweep away the hungry black and bitter white that burns without, to shed the shackles of potential and plunge it all to greying doubt…

The woman reaches down to touch him and he slaps her hand away. Immediately, her expression warps with rage and alarm. Her guise weakens at the loss in concentration and a bright light fills the room, emanating from the woman's figure. She grabs his wrist, hissing angered words in a language neither Saya nor the priest can understand. An instant later, her eyes widen as she realizes his wrist fell apart to dust in her fingers.

…for love yet lives in waking terrors, where words can't say what fear has wrought. And if our love can't save this nightmare, then let it burn to null and naught.

Everything froze.

Once again, Saya remained the only moving thing in the chamber. She watched the inkwell keep spilling out onto the scroll, far more liquid leaving it than such a small vessel could possibly hold. The ink formed into shapes of its own accord, forming arcane patterns and geometric shapes that are far too correct to be accidental. In the center of it all was a large, perfect circle. A moment that felt like an eternity passed before it split in half, opening into a double-pupiled eye.

Saya watched a tendril reach out from the scroll and the priest disappeared the moment it touched him. Immediately after, the Lady's unnatural radiance vanished, leaving Saya one on one with total darkness.

She blinks. The darkness blinks back. A familiar presence speaks to her, its voice coming from nowhere and everywhere at once.

"Welcome back, Dragonborn."

Saya watched calmly as the darkness around her slowly pulled away. Soon, there wasn't even a hint of the marble temple, or the town, or anything she saw. All of it blurred to little more than a distant memory. "Hello to you too," she muttered in a tired voice. Her sword left its sheath with a quiet hiss and she stepped forward.

For once, she couldn't really blame Neloth. In hindsight, she wouldn't want to have read this either.