"Is she still gone?"

Serana barely turned to glance at Frea when she came back. She nodded. "Yes, though it has only been a few minutes. I doubt she will be returning soon." Frankly, she did not expect Frea to return either, considering the way she stormed off earlier. It was a pleasant surprise that she did. "I heard a rumble when you left. Did you find something?"

"A hidden exit. Miraak must have used it to enter and leave his temple in secret." Frea sighed and leaned on the wall. "I stepped outside and looked around. My village is not far from that exit. We can use it to leave and go there to stay the night."

Serana hummed noncommittally in response. She hadn't thought ahead quite that far, especially with Saya still gone. Besides, she did not know if the Skaal would even permit a vampire in their midst. Frea's kneejerk reaction to the book certainly made her hesitant to ask. "I see," she murmured, hugging her knees and turning to look at Saya again. The Dragonborn had a serene expression on her face, almost meditative. Her red eyes were half-closed, though still visibly running across the pages back and forth.

Serana flinched as Frea sat down on the floor a couple steps away from her. She seemed to struggle for a bit to collect herself before she spoke: "I wanted to apologize for earlier. That outburst was unworthy." Serana turned to her, surprised.

"O-Oh. That's, um…" She stammered, scratching her cheek. Her eyes unwittingly drifted over to Saya again. "Thank you, but… I'm not sure if I am the person you should be apologizing to," she finally answered. Frea watched her for a few seconds before nodding.

"I understand."

The two of them sat in silence for a while afterwards. Serana felt a certain discomfort, sitting next to a person that held her at weapon-point mere minutes ago, but she tried not to think about it. She wondered how long Saya would take this time. Neloth had told her that time does not always flow the same in Oblivion as it does on Nirn, but there was never a way of telling for sure without going there on one's own.

"May I ask you a question?" Frea once again pulled the vampire out of her thoughts. Serana glanced at her briefly, thinking for a moment before she nodded. A distraction would've been quite welcome, given she did not have the library of Tel Mithryn at her disposal this time around. "Are the two of you always like this?"

Serana blinked. "I beg your pardon?"

"Earlier, you told me that you two were friends, did you not?" She asked and the vampire nodded hesitantly, still visibly puzzled. Frea's brows furrowed. "Then I do not understand. I thought you meant that you trust each other as equals. That is not what I have seen throughout our venture in this temple."

Serana quirked an eyebrow. She kept her expression neutral, though beneath the facade she didn't really know how to feel. "What did you see, then?"

"You follow her," Frea said simply. Serana cocked her head, even more confused. "You do not stand as equals. Whenever a decision must be made, you turn to her to pass judgement. And whatever she decides, you obey without question. Does that not strike you as odd?"

"What?" Serana stared at the Skaal stupidly. Her immediate reaction was to deny it. It was an outrageous claim, of course she questioned what Saya told her. "You must be mistaken. Saya asks for my opinion constantly - even in this temple, don't you remember us discussing our plans together?"

"I do." Frea nodded. Her expression was unchanged, the same steely look on her face that drilled into Serana in a very uncomfortable way. "And I remember that even then, she only turned to you if she wished to hear your opinion. In the end, the final decision always rested with her, no matter what." The Skaal crossed her arms. "Even when you spoke your mind, you sought her approval every time. Why is that? Does she seek yours the same way?"

Serana's shoulders sloped down and her expression shifted as the question lingered in her mind. Did Saya really turn to her so infrequently? Was that really how it looked from another perspective? Serana wordlessly released the breath she was holding. Somehow, the fervor to defend her friend suddenly diminished. She glanced at Saya who was still standing there, holding that book in her hands, there and not there simultaneously. Serana's chest tightened.

"...I am no adventurer," she finally spoke. Her voice was quiet, uncertain. She sounded defensive, not because she wanted to protect herself but because she did not want to hurt Saya, even if she wasn't really there. "I am inexperienced in many things, and I owe much to her. I would not be alive right now, if not for her." Serana finally turned to Frea, a look of conviction in her eyes. "I follow because I trust her judgement. Nothing more."

"Do you not trust your own?" Frea immediately fired back and Serana flinched. The vampire appeared well and truly shocked, no longer able to even try to hide her offense at the question. "You did not want her to read the Black Book any more than I did, yet you did not stand your ground. Even when you completely disagreed, you still surrendered to her choice."

Serana frowned. "Frea-"

The Skaal didn't even pause, her tone only growing more imposing. "When was the last time you told her 'no'? Better still, when was the last time she actually listened?"

"Frea, please-"

"What if her choices cause harm to befall the two of you? What will you do if-"

"Would you just shut up already?" Serana finally snapped, turning sharply towards Frea with an icy glare. The Skaal's diatribe came to a grinding halt and she blinked, genuinely shocked at the vampire's reaction. A heavy silence hung in the room for a couple of seconds before Serana's expression softened just a little and she shook her head. "I'm sorry. I do not want to talk about this any longer."

"...I understand." Frea quietly bowed her head down and fell silent.

Serana gave her another bitter look before she sighed and turned away. Her mind was a jumble of thoughts now and she was too tired to try and sort them out right now. She felt indignant, insulted even. She wanted to tell Frea she was wrong, to voice everything she was thinking, to storm off and slam the door behind her. Alas, that was not an option, and so she simply sat there hugging her knees and staring blankly at the nigh-motionless Saya, the only movements in her body being the jittering of her eyes across the pages.

"Will she be gone for long?" Serana shot a glare at Frea when she piped up. Although it was a fair question, she was fresh out of patience for more conversation with her. Seeing that she was not accepting silence for an answer, however, she eventually caved.

"I don't know. Last time, she was gone for six hours. She may return sooner this time," she said in as politely distant voice as she could manage. There was also the possibility that Saya would take even longer, of course, but she tried not to think about that too much.

"I see. Let us hope her journey is swift, then." Serana had to physically fight the urge to roll her eyes, then immediately caught herself on the impulse and winced. Perhaps some of Saya's habits were rubbing off on her after all. She tried to enjoy the few seconds of silence that followed when Frea piped up again: "Is… that supposed to happen?"

Serana sighed. "What are you…" She lifted her head and froze. There on Saya's face, painting an unmistakably distinct dark line along her mouth and chin, was a streak of blood flowing from her nose. The vampire stood up hastily. "She must have gotten injured," she muttered under her breath as she stepped closer to inspect the elf for any injuries. Last time, they all showed quite well - and sure enough, there was a rather visible bruise on her forehead.

Then, seconds later, Saya's eyes rolled back and shot wide open.

Serana all but jumped back in horror at the sight. "What's going on?!" Frea asked her, walking up beside her with hurried steps. Serana looked at her with terrified eyes, shaking her head. Even if she knew, she wasn't sure if she could put it into words at that moment. Frea cursed under her breath, some word in a tongue unknown to Serana, and reached for the amulet hanging around her neck.

"W-What are you doing?" The vampire asked, but received no answer. Frea traced her fingers along the amulet and began to mutter some kind of mantra, her words falling like deaf noise to Serana's ringing ears. She could only watch as Frea's chant grew faster and louder, the Skaal approaching Saya and reaching out towards her with one arm. "W-Wait, that's just going to-"

Instead of passing through, as Serana expected, Frea's hand made contact with the Dragonborn's forehead. There was a flash of light, first from Frea's palm and then from Saya's eyes. A moment later, Frea recoiled violently as the Black Book fell out of Saya's hands and onto the floor with a loud thud, and Saya herself suddenly drew a sharp breath as she returned to consciousness.

Without a moment's delay, the vampire rushed to her friend's side, all but catching her into her arms when she collapsed onto her knees. "Saya? Saya, what happened?" Serana called out, shaking Saya by the shoulders. In response, she slowly lifted her head and looked at the vampire with eyes that sent a chill down her spine. Serana swallowed nervously, trying to support the elf with her arms. "Saya…?"

Saya opened and closed her mouth a couple of times, but no words left her trembling lips. Her whole body was shaking like a leaf, and something broke inside Serana when she saw the tears welling in the corners of her eyes. Serana glanced over at Frea, watching the fury fade from the Skaal's expression upon seeing the state Saya had returned in. The two of them exchanged a silent glance, neither of them knowing what to say or do.

In the end, Serana never received a response. Only a pair of small hands clutching the fabric of her shirt with panicked desperation, and choked sobs hiccupped into her shoulder until the tiny elf in her arms had lost consciousness once more.

Fredas, the 16th of Morning Star, 4E202

When Saya's eyes next opened, she found herself somewhere unfamiliar. Beneath her was a simple bed of animal furs, which creaked unpleasantly when she sat up on it. A wave of dizziness immediately hit her. She lifted her hand to her forehead, groaning. The memories of what had happened earlier were slowly returning to her, though she would much prefer if they did not. Once she found her boots standing by the bedside, she stood up on unsteady legs and headed for the door.

A sharp, though not entirely unpleasant chill washed over her face as she exited the hut. Saya saw that she was in a village of some sort - the Skaal village, she guessed. Fresh snow covered the ground and crunched under her feet. From a distance the settlement looked somewhat large, but she soon found it was much more deserted than it first appeared. On the opposite end of the village, she saw a bridge leading over a half-frozen river. Farther still, she saw a faint pillar of light stretching into the sky. An All-Maker Stone, she figured.

"You're awake!" Saya turned when she heard Serana's voice beside her. She barely opened her mouth to reply when the vampire all but jumped onto her and pulled her into a hug. Saya managed an awkward smile, which almost immediately turned into a wince as she felt a sharp pang of pain in her ribs. Thankfully, Serana backed away before it became a problem. "I was just about to get you, the shaman was hoping you would join us."

"The shaman…" Saya echoed quietly, following Serana as she led her by the hand. Her headache had yet to subside, so she was extra careful not to stumble on the way down. "When… How did I get here?"

"We arrived yesterday evening," Serana replied without looking. Saya couldn't quite understand the tone of her voice. She sounded happy, relieved, but at the same time there was a tinge of uncertainty that rubbed Saya the wrong way. "Frea and I carried you here when you lost consciousness. The people here tended to your wounds as best they could. How are you feeling?"

Saya thought for a moment. "I'll live, probably." Serana gave her a look and she chuckled before immediately cringing and placing a hand on her side. Yep, that's definitely cracked. "...okay, I guess I'm not doing too hot. I'll probably be fine, though. Just need to visit a healer whenever we have the time."

Serana's gaze lingered on the Dragonborn for a moment longer before she turned away. "I will hold you to that." The two of them walked the rest of the way silently. Eventually they came upon a great hall that overlooked the village square, and before it was a small circle of villagers, all of them focused in meditation. They seemed completely unbothered by the cold, kneeling in the snow and wearing about the minimum of clothing one would expect for such weather - thick fur coats, pants, and boots heavy enough to bludgeon someone.

It was Frea who noticed them approaching first. "Ah. You're finally awake. Father?" She turned to the elderly man on her right. He opened his eyes and turned his head to the two of them, looking at Saya's face curiously. "This is the woman I spoke of, the Dragonborn," Frea explained.

The man hummed, nodding. "I see." He stood up and cleaned himself off, snow falling from the furs he wore. Saya did not even want to imagine how long he'd been sitting there for it to gather. He faced his villagers, speaking: "My friends, maintain concentration. I will return shortly. Outsiders, come with me." He then turned around and pushed the door open, inviting the two women into the hall. Without comment, they followed.

Once inside, Storn walked up to the nearest chair and propped it up next to the fire in the middle of the room. He picked up a large blackened stick that lay nearby and reached into the crackling flame, picking through the coals. Not sure what else to do, Saya and Serana seated themselves on the opposite end of the firepit and waited.

"I would like to apologize for my daughter's behavior," Storn said without turning toward them. Saya blinked, surprised. "I understand that you had a disagreement regarding the Black Book. She spoke of it when she returned, and your friend mentioned it as well. I hope you do not harbor any ill will towards her for it." He looked up, looking directly at Saya.

The Dragonborn shrugged and shook her head. "My life's in danger on a daily basis, what's one more threat for the pile." Storn gave her a curious look and she sighed, the smile fading from her face. In a more serious tone, she said: "She meant well. I get it."

Storn nodded, satisfied with that answer. He set the stick aside and sat down in front of the crackling fire. "Frea is my daughter, and so she will take my place as shaman of our village when the time comes. She has learned much from me. Unfortunately, some lessons cannot be taught. She knows to fear and respect evil, but she does not yet understand that sometimes, one must appease a lesser evil to achieve a greater good." Storn tented his fingers, a heavy silence hanging in the room for a while before he let out a tired sigh. "But I have wasted enough time. This book you read," he nodded over to the side. Saya's gaze followed - there, on a shelf, stood the Black Book they found at the temple. "What did you see in it?"

Serana glanced over Saya as she seemed to freeze up. She lifted a shaky hand to her own mouth, as though she suddenly felt physically sick at the mention of it. Serana thought she saw cold sweat appear on her forehead. "...Miraak. I saw Miraak. He was in Apocrypha, plotting with his allies."

Storn looked at her with surprise, but then his expression gradually fell into one of solemn understanding. "Then it is as I feared," he said quietly. "We were foolish. I should not have hoped that our elders would be wrong."

"What do you mean?" Serana asked him. Storn lifted his head at her question.

"We Skaal are an ancient tribe, older than Miraak's time on this isle. We do not keep written histories. Instead, we live by the tales passed down from our elders, from generation to generation." He sighed, shaking his head. "Few legends survive of Miraak and his fate. Most end with his death at the hands of a fellow dragon priest. There is one, however, which the shamans learn but seldom speak of." He gestured to the Black Book in the room. "It tells instead of Miraak's escape - that when the time came to strike the final blow, the Demon of Knowledge himself appeared to whisk his apprentice away and rescue him from his doom."

Saya crossed her arms. "Well… good to know which stories are wrong, then," she joked half-heartedly to try and lighten up the atmosphere. Judging by the silence, it didn't exactly land. She leaned back in her seat. "He wants to come back. From what I gathered, the Stones play into it somehow. He's using a Shout to control the minds of other people, and then commands them to create shrines around the Stones to extend his influence."

Serana hummed curiously. "How many has he corrupted, then?"

"All of them," Storn answered before Saya could. Both women looked at him in surprise. "As the shaman of the Skaal, it is my duty to maintain our connection to the All-Maker and his gifts. It is stronger in some, but I sense a presence in each and every Stone on Solstheim."

"Have the Skaal attempted to cleanse any of them?"

"We have, though unsuccessfully." Storn nodded. "We have performed numerous rituals, but it availed us nothing. It is how we lost the first few of our people, the ones most exhausted from the attempt." Then he suddenly turned toward Saya, looking her straight in the eye. "But you. You are Dragonborn, are you not? Am I to understand that you wield the same kind of power Miraak has used to corrupt the Stones?"

Saya did not answer immediately. Recollection flashed in her mind: a bright searing pain, her vision white and black as pitch, ear-splitting noise in her ears, the taste of blood. Involuntarily, she lifted a hand to her mouth as she nodded. "...yes, that is right." She swallowed a lump in her throat as she answered, trying to push down a wave of nausea. "Though, I don't know the actual Shout he uses to do it. I was hoping that reading that Black Book would help me, but…" She sighed. "I guess my only other option now is to just keep looking for others."

"What? Absolutely not." Serana immediately got up from her seat, standing in front of her. "Have you forgotten already that Frea and I had to carry you here after you read that thing? And what about your injuries?"

The Dragonborn sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. She could not argue, she still felt like shit, and she definitely wasn't looking forward to another visit to Apocrypha. But if that's what it took… "I'll just have to deal with it. I'll be fine."

"Fine? You would have died if Frea hadn't been there!" Saya winced, half from the words and half from the way they were spoken. Her temples did not appreciate the volume.

"What do you expect me to do, then? Just sit tight and hope everything resolves itself while I'm having an afternoon nap?"

"No, of course not, but-"

"But what?" Saya stood up to face Serana, though it did not quite have the desired effect because of the height difference. "Do you think I want to go crawling through Oblivion? That I'm waving my soul around in front of a primordial demon like a shiny coin just for the hell of it? If there was any other way to go about this, I would pick it in a bloody heartbeat, but that's just now how it is. Or do you have some secret method up your sleeve that could magically solve all those problems in one go? 'cause if you do, I'd like to fucking hear it- ack!"

Saya gasped, putting a hand on her side as a jolt of pain ran through her ribs. The apprehension in Serana's eyes briefly changed to concern and she reached out to help her sit but Saya pushed her hand aside, all but dropping into her seat. The vampire awkwardly stepped back, her expression indescribable. Saya felt a tinge of guilt when she met her eye, but Serana immediately turned away and sat back down on her chair. A heavy, tense air hung in the room.

"...the allies you mentioned," Storn suddenly spoke up after a long bout of silence. Saya lifted her eyes to look at him. "Did you happen to catch their names while they conversed? How many of them were there?"

Saya blinked. The question caught her somewhat off-guard, though she did appreciate the change in topic. She rubbed her chin, thinking. "I saw two, though I think there was supposed to be a third. Miraak called one of them Dukaan, but the other barely spoke at all."

Storn thought for a moment. The name did not seem to ring a bell. "Let me rephrase. Did any of them carry a large sword?"

"Do you mean the Bloodskal?" Serana interjected. Storn appeared surprised and nodded. Serana smiled wryly. "That would be the priest we killed some days ago under Raven Rock. He also called himself Skathrald, if I recall…?"

There was a flash of recognition in the old shaman's eyes. He stroked his beard, permitting himself a small smile as he did. "I see. That is good. He was a dangerous man. It brings me peace of mind to know he will not threaten Solstheim again." Storn then paused and looked at the two of them. "Are either of you familiar with the tale of Skathrald?"

"Not the details," Saya replied, shuffling a bit in her chair to sit more comfortably. The pangs in her chest didn't quite disappear yet, but she could manage. "We saw a word wall in his tomb. The dragons say he was an outcast of a heretical tribe and a traitor to the dragons. He was executed for killing a dragon and trying to eat it."

"Skathrald was one of our people many ages ago," Storn said, clasping his hands together. Leaning over the fire like that, he almost looked like a grandfather telling a story. "We, the Skaal, believe that the world was created by the All-Maker, who resides in the world of spirit while we, his children, reside in the realm of his making. Thus, he allows us the use of his six gifts: the earth, the waters, the air, the sun, the beasts, and the plants. Frea must have mentioned this to you, yes?" Both Saya and Serana nodded in unison. "This is the basis of our way of life. Skathrald, however, believed there was one more gift that the children of the All-Maker should be entitled to, as the pinnacle of creation."

Serana, who was genuinely starting to get into the story, leaned forward in her seat. "What would that be?" Storn smiled kindly at her interest.

"Flesh." The vampire blinked, taken aback by the casual answer. Storn chuckled. She was far from the first he had surprised this way, it seemed. "Skathrald believed that the very flesh our spirits inhabit was sacred for it, too, was created by the All-Maker. He thought that by consuming flesh, one may learn about the spirit residing therein and grow closer to the All-Maker's power. He was exiled by our ancestors when he killed one of his kin, seeking to prove his faith before the rest of them."

Saya hummed. That would certainly explain the following of cannibals he seemed to have amassed at that barrow of his. Though, there was still a question at the back of her mind: "Is there a reason you're telling us this? Did something happen to him afterward?"

"Patience, Dragonborn," Storn told her. Saya shuddered with disgust. He looked a little too much like Arngeir for her liking when he said that. "The dragons that ruled the world in those ancient times were as shrewd as they were cruel. Unlike the Skaal, no teaching was too forbidden to them, so long as they could use it. And so, one of them accepted Skathrald as his apprentice. Skathrald studied under his master's wing, learning what he could, until eventually his ambition outgrew his master's generosity. He slayed the dragon and partook of its flesh, hoping to steal its divine power and wisdom for himself." He glanced at Saya with a knowing look. "Does that sound familiar?"

A flash of realization passed through Saya's mind. She exchanged a look with Serana, who seemed to have come to the same conclusion. "You don't mean to say…?"

"He wasn't Dragonborn," Saya immediately said. Serana turned to her, puzzled. "If he were, I would've absorbed his soul like I do with dragons. He had to be a regular person," she explained. Serana frowned, rubbing her chin in thought.

"That is right," Storn said with a nod. "He was not Dragonborn. But you are correct in your observation - his actions bear an uncanny similarity to what one would attribute to a Dragonborn warrior, such as Miraak." He leaned back in his chair, his eyes drifting to the fire as he kept talking. "As I've told you, we Skaal pass our lore from person to person. Sometimes, this means our tales become warped, distorted, while others spring up in their turn." He rose to his feet and stepped up to Saya. "Would you happen to have a map?"

"Hm? Oh, yeah, one second…" Saya reached into a satchel on her belt, pulling out a folded-up map of Solstheim she'd purchased in Raven Rock. She handed it to Storn along with a pencil. "Here."

"Thank you." The shaman then stepped to the side, where a small table stood by the wall. He placed the map down on it and squinted, searching for something. "I may be but one shaman of many, but I always considered this particular legend quite odd. Especially so, when considering Skathrald's allegiance to Miraak." Having finally found what he was looking for, he marked off a location on the map and handed it back to Saya.

"Skathrald's Doom…?" Saya looked up at him. Storn nodded. "What is this place?"

"Many today know it as Saering's Watch. My people know it as the place where Skathrald killed this dragon that eventually spelled his ruin," he explained. Immediately, something clicked with Saya and she opened her mouth to respond. However, the shaman confirmed her theory without her even saying it: "The Dragon Cult has done much work to remove all information about the First Dragonborn from this world. They were no strangers to rewriting history if it suited them. It is thus my belief that Miraak may have had a hand in this dragon's killing… perhaps even his first. Go there. Retrace his steps. Maybe then, you will glean something that Mora might withhold from you."

Before Saya could properly respond, the door to the great hall was opened and Frea barged in. "Father!" Everyone in the room turned to face her. "The barrier is failing. You must return at once!"

"Thank you, daughter. I shall be there soon," he said with a faint smile. Frea nodded and disappeared behind the door once more. Storn sighed. "I am afraid I must return to my duties now. Good luck to you, Dragonborn. Know that the Skaal stand with you."

"Thank you." Saya smiled. Storn smiled back, bowed his head slightly as goodbye, and stepped outside. Saya's gaze lingered on the door for a few more moments before she let out a deep, tired sigh and glanced over at Serana. "So… moving out in an hour?"

Serana stared at her silently with a look bordering on a glare. Then she wordlessly stood up and walked over to the Dragonborn's chair, sitting down on the armrest and putting a firm hand on Saya's shoulder. "Actually…" She leaned in, whispering in a voice that made the hairs on the back of Saya's neck stand - and not entirely in a good way. "I believe I have a booking for a little retribution."

Saya swallowed the lump in her throat. "I was hoping you'd forget."

Serana smiled. "I know. That's why I didn't."

It has been an hour and I still have the slap mark on my face. At least, it sure feels like I do. I am very glad that nobody questions my wearing a mask while we travel around. I can only hope that nobody heard what she said to me, either.

I guess I can't complain. Earned every bit of it. Part of me wishes Serana didn't look so cheery about it, though.

As was unofficially agreed upon, we moved out an hour later. We had breakfast at the village, humble as it was. The Skaal can't really afford to send out too many people to hunt, so they make do with little. I offered to go out and find something, but they declined. Didn't want to rely on the kindness of an outsider too much. Kind of stupid, if you ask me, considering I'm already trying to deal with the Stones they can't do anything about. Well, whatever.

According to the map Storn gave us, Saering's Watch (or, well Skathrald's Doom) shouldn't be more than maybe two or three hours away. The map is kind of shit, and there's no proper roads, but I think we can find our way around decently well. Some of the folk back at the village warned us that we might run into some rieklings - goblin-like little things that live in the north of Solstheim. They do little but hunt the local bristlebacks and harass any nearby humans, but apparently they're also no strangers to killing travelers if it's a small enough group.

Still, I'm told they're pretty skittish. Maybe some fire and loud noises will be enough to scare them off.

"BAAAI! BABAAAAI!"

These ear-stabbing, barely intelligible shrieks surrounded Saya and Serana as they walked into the riekling camp at Saering's Watch. The Dragonborn watched with disinterest as the little creatures ran around, panicking and fetching their weapons as their tents caught fire from her pyromancy. Every once in a while, one of them would be brave enough to throw an unwieldy spear in their direction, which was easily enough dodged and occasionally even thrown back in the owner's general direction - mostly to scare rather than to harm.

"The chief's tent should be ahead," Serana said, and Saya lifted her eyes. True enough, in the back of the camp she could see a tent much larger than the others. Not that it meant much, given how tiny the creatures were. Most of them lived in tents similar to this one, crafted out of bear or bristleback hides, which looked almost comfortable were it not for how cramped they were.

"Want to leave him alive, I'm guessing?" Saya asked without looking, tossing another ball of flame somewhere behind her. Serana flinched at the distant explosion, followed almost immediately by more terrified screaming.

"I, uh… yes." She winced. She had been advocating for the seemingly more diplomatic option of not slaughtering the rieklings for simply existing on the way. Unfortunately, the road to hell is paved with good intentions, and the alternative required the rieklings to be scared away instead. Saya seemed to be having a little too much fun doing that. "If only so that his followers do not have one more reason to attack us."

Saya hummed noncommittally and ducked under another javelin thrown in her direction. "I still think that a beheading or two would've sent a stronger message," she said. Another riekling charged her with an evidently stolen dagger and she caught the creature by the wrist, taking the blade from its hand and tossing it aside. "By the way, you're not thirsty, are you?" She turned to the vampire, still holding her assailant, completely ignoring his futile attempts to break out of her grasp.

"...Saya, please let the poor thing go," the vampire sighed. Saya shrugged and released the riekling, letting him run off like most others. Serana shook her head, refraining from further comments. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see that the rest of the blue-skinned little folk were watching them with cautious curiosity. At the very least, they did not seem to be intent on attacking them any longer.

It was around that point that they'd finally reached the chief's tent. The noise around the camp more or less died down by then, only the distant crackling of not-yet-extinguished flames serving as a backdrop to the surreal situation. Saya and Serana exchanged a glance, not sure which of them should step into the tent first - but the Dragonborn drew her sword just in case. In response to that gesture, one of the rieklings released a shrill scream before a resounding slap from one of his kinsmen shut him up.

A few seconds passed. Then, the tent parted on its own as the chief stepped outside with a self-important stride. He wore little aside from a half-mask crafted from a wolf skull adorned with a multitude of mismatched feathers and a snow fox pelt wrapped around his hips like a loincloth. A thick bear hide he was dragging on the floor appeared to serve as a kind of oversized cape, the light brown somewhat complementary to the white warpaint his entire body was covered in. In his hand, he carried a ceremonial spear - that is, one that was very obviously a battleaxe with a spiked pommel in another life, but has since had the bladed section completely chopped off due to its weight.

"YU!" The riekling chief shouted, pointing at the two of them accusingly. "LEEVA! ELV BEEG, HURT RIIKLING. NO HURT RIIKLINGZ! NO FAIT! LEEVA, FAA RAWALA!"

There was a moment of awkward silence as the two women exchanged a puzzled look. "...did you know they can speak Tamrielic?" Saya asked. The vampire shook her head. "...huh." Saya looked back at the chief and crouched down to be at eye-level with him. The chief maintained his composure, lifting his hooked nose in hopes of appearing more authoritative. The Dragonborn sighed, suppressing a sensible chuckle. "Fus."

As soon as her lips parted, a wave of force spilled from it that had the riekling chief stumble back and fall over clumsily. All of a sudden, every riekling that had been watching them with full attention jumped back in horror. Serana pinched the bridge of her nose and let out a long, heavy sigh. "Saya, please stop bullying the rieklings."

"Killjoy," Saya mumbled and turned back to the riekling chief. He was staring at her with wide, confused eyes, as though he was completely and utterly baffled at the fact that he was standing just a second ago, and yet now he was sitting instead. "Hey, you." She pointed at him. "You. Leave. We go in, do our thing. When we leave, you come back. 'kay?"

The chief blinked, scurrying back up to his feet. He needed a good few seconds to process what was being said to him. "IF RIIKLING GO, BEEG ELV NO HURT RIIKLING?" He looked up at Saya as he spoke and she nodded, still staring directly at him with those red eyes of hers. The chief nodded back. "RIIKLING GO DEN. RIIKLING KOM BAK WEN ELV LEEVA."

Saya allowed herself a small smile. "That's a good little man," she said and rose up to her feet. Then she turned to Serana, gesturing towards the tent. "Let's go, while we're allowed." She chuckled and the vampire rolled her eyes, giving the riekling chief a small polite bow before the two of them finally entered the tent.

The interior was about what one would expect from a tent: a number of bowls and baskets, evidently not made with riekling hands judging by the absence of appropriate tools, some empty and unopened bottles of various alcoholic drinks with mismatched goblets, and so on. All in all, it seemed rather unremarkable at a glance - that is, until they turned their eyes upwards.

Immediately, the reason for the tent's odd size and shape became clear: there was not a single wooden support around the entire thing. Instead, the entire tent was being held up by a massive, completely hollow torso of a dragon. The ribs were half-embedded into the ground, supporting the multitudes of furs and cloths comprising the tent itself while the creature's spine created the central ridge. Saya whistled in surprise.

"Well… this seems to be it, right?" Serana asked hesitantly, turning towards the Dragonborn as she walked around, exploring the place. Now that she looked a bit more closely, Saya could definitely see pieces of dragon bones lying about, even spotting a crude knife carved from what was once a claw. "I do not suppose this dragon would still have its soul, would it?"

"Not if Miraak had a hand in it," Saya said and tossed the knife aside. Just to check, she placed a hand on one of the rib supports and closed her eyes. She tried to reach out with her mind, to sense that ethereal warmth she'd always felt when absorbing a dragon soul. She sighed. "Empty. Figures it wouldn't be that easy." The Dragonborn turned around to face Serana. "We should look around, maybe there's something else around here that can help."

"What about that?" The vampire pointed over Saya's shoulder, and she turned. In the far back of the tent, just behind a large firepit, there stood a throne very much fit for a chief - if only because the 'throne' was really a dragon skull set on the floor, jaws open and stuffed with cushioning. The two of them stepped closer to inspect it. Most of the teeth were still in place, though there was some visible damage to the skull.

"A slashing weapon," Saya concluded. "Probably the killing blow. Look at the way the crack runs down the nose." She dragged her finger across what would've been the roof of the mouth were the flesh still there, showing it to the vampire. Then she felt a certain familiar tingle and pulled her hand back, blinking. "...the hell?"

"Is something wrong?" Serana asked. Saya did not immediately respond. She motioned for the vampire to step back and then pulled out her dagger, carefully removing the supports holding the jaw in place. Then, she pushed the top half of the skull, causing it to fall forward and the jaws to snap shut. It was then that Serana noticed what startled her friend so - written right at the center of the dragon's forehead was a word in dragon language.

"It says 'Gol'," Saya answered the question preemptively. "It means 'earth'. Ground, rock, stone, that sort of thing. But mostly just… earth." Saya rubbed her chin, thinking. She'd expected to see a word wall somewhere around, but this…

It was certainly not unheard of. The Greybeards and Gjukar have all shown the ability to carve words of power into other surfaces with their voices. The thing that unsettled her was, funnily enough, the color - the word was pure black, as though it was branded or burnt into the bones, but the outline of each letter was also surprisingly clean, as though they were painted on instead. And yet despite the color, it almost felt like the word was glowing…

"Well, here goes nothing," Saya muttered as she closed her eyes and placed her hand on the carving.

From the moment her fingertips touched the skull, Saya became acutely aware of every single bone in her body. It was like a subtle vibration running from her nails, through her fingers, reverberating in her wrist and traveling up the arm. Every ligament, every muscle felt solid and dry, like even the slightest movement would prompt it to crack and crumble into dust like sandstone. Her ribs locked up, a cage closed outward, her legs immobile as the ground beneath them and her heart going still for a single instant.

Her mind drifted. She was walking across a landscape, as beautiful as it was incongruent. The ground rippled beneath her feet, splitting and flowing in inconstant patterns like a sea of directionless inertia. The sky above her swirled, paint mixed with brush-bearded tongues that spoke in meat and metal. Blood and aether flowed and flowered in pumping motion through invisible capillaries and voluminous chambers, tunnels, cavernous hollows permeating the within as well as the without.

A wail rippled through the air, cascading unto the supports that folded around themselves, and one by one they snapped and crashed into one another, burning, fuming, bubbling with urge.

The snake-spines that slithered ceaselessly stopped, their fingers reaching for a heaven that wasn't there, crystal teeth gnawed in chase of storm-breath that fled their stone lungs and fell like waves, crashing, screaming and laughing in joy and grief, bleeding, hearts gone still, coiled and lobotomized, a self-cannibalizing spring mapped upon a wintered painting of amnesiac choreography, demented, ensnared, slipping, spirited away, a chorus rhyming dissonant howls weeping to go back, back to what was before only to reconvene here once again as though none of it ever happened at all.

Gol.

Ba-dum. Saya startled at her own heartbeat. She blinked, stumbling forwards and immediately catching herself. She felt Serana's hand on her chest, supporting her. Saya's head turned - indeed, there she was, giving her that all-too-familiar look of concern. A weak smile emerged on Saya's lips. "I'm okay," she mouthed, voice too weak to say it out loud.

"Can you stand?" Serana asked her. Saya responded with a nod. The vampire watched with pursed lips as her friend leaned on the skull for support, straightening her back and standing on wobbly legs. Cold sweat appeared on her forehead and Saya reached to wipe it with a trembling arm. "Did you see something?"

Saya paused. A moment later, she nodded. "Yeah. 'Something' is right," she mumbled as she rubbed her eyes with the heel of her hand. I'm going to be pissed if this gives me another migraine… She sighed. "Give me a minute and we can go."

"Don't strain yourself," Serana said. "You are still injured, remember?" She looked down at the Dragonborn, who lifted a hand to wave her off. As if on cue, she immediately felt a spike of pain run through her side. Serana smiled wryly and shook her head. "Just rest for now, I am sure another couple of minutes without exertion wouldn't hurt." Saya groaned and she chuckled, crossing her arms and sitting next to her atop the dragon skull. "What did you see, anyway?"

Suddenly, Saya froze and her eyes opened. Serana's expression shifted to concern once more. Saya was staring into nothing for a couple of seconds before she sat up straight, blinking in confusion. She lifted her hand, looking at her own fingers and flexing them as though she'd forgotten how to do it. Her brows furrowed.

"Saya?" She turned to her side and saw Serana looking her in the eye. She touched Saya's forehead with the back of her palm, checking for a fever. It was pleasantly cold. "Is everything alright? What did you see?"

Saya remained quiet, looking back at her hand. There was still a faint remnant scratching at her mind, something she couldn't quite describe but felt so distinctly it almost hurt to acknowledge. She drew a sharp breath.

"I… honestly can't tell."

I'm still tingling a little from the whole thing. I feel like I should lay down, but I'm also so awake that I'd just be tossing and turning the whole time. It was like having an itch scratched without knowing it was ever there, and now it's just… irritated. I'm trying to remember, but all I have is fragments. Feelings. I can't put it into words. I don't think there are words to describe something like that, not without using too many of them.

According to the map there should be a more or less straight shot from here back to Raven Rock. I could use some hot stew, and maybe visit the temple for that healer. Or hell, just find a place for Serana to make a decent potion, if not just buying one from the store. Once I'm a bit more coherent, I can try this new Shout on the Earth Stone, maybe.

Alright, maybe a straight shot to Raven Rock was a little too ambitious. We stopped about halfway there to make camp, it's bitching cold and dark as all Oblivion - not to mention the ice and mountains that are hard enough to navigate during the day. Serana found a little clearing that should be good enough for a campfire and a couple of sleeping bags.

On the way here, we also saw some reavers just… going about their business. And I don't mean banditry and such, but just a couple of guys walking around with construction instruments in the wilderness. They didn't even react to our presence when we passed them by, so I'm willing to bet they're probably brainwashed. Guess we're doing night watches in case they come around.

I'm just looking forward to finally eating something hot again. Can barely get a fire going in this cold, let alone cook anything decent. What I wouldn't give for a bowl of stew…

"Saya, it's your turn."

"Mmm… 'm up, 'm up…" Saya mumbled, covering her mouth to yawn. Serana watched with unconcealed amusement as the Dragonborn sat up in her sleeping bag to stretch and then immediately snapped awake when she felt the cold air around her.

Saya was not naturally a light sleeper - it was a skill that life taught her the hard way over the many years she spent traveling alone. Like any other skill, though, it required constant use to stay sharp. In Serana's opinion, those past few months left her quite rusty.

"Of course," the vampire chuckled as she sat down on the other side of the fire, so weak it was barely a flicker by now. She looked up to the sky - it was just a couple of hours past midnight. "Don't forget to wake me before sunrise." Serana glanced over at the groggy Saya as she finally stood up and adjusted her clothes. There was something a bit endearing about the way her red hair stuck up at odd angles when it wasn't properly brushed, especially since Saya herself seldom noticed it.

"Yeah, yeah…" Saya suppressed another yawn. Serana smiled and lay down on top of her bedroll. She initially protested against Saya's idea of doing shifts, given that she was a vampire and didn't really need to sleep to begin with, but the tiny elf insisted she was 'getting rusty' and needed the practice. Serana didn't care much either way. With any luck, she'd be asleep in minutes. "Goodnight," Saya murmured in a sleepy voice just as the vampire was drifting off. Her smile grew just a little wider and her eyes closed.

And then, there was silence.

Not just the absence of conversation, but true silence that made Saya's own thoughts feel loud. There were no rivers to flow, no insects or birds, even the winds had quieted down with their ungodly howls for a time. Saya was left alone with herself, the fading campfire, and the thoughts swirling about in her head. She looked out into the darkness, watching the reflection of the moons flicker across the sea waves. Pretty, she thought.

A few long minutes passed. Her ears twitched when she heard a quiet rustle coming from behind, Serana shuffling in her spot. Saya snickered. She always looked so peaceful when she slept, like something out of a fairytale. She was very still, too - if Saya ever caught the exact moment that the vampire fell asleep, she could safely expect that she would remain in that same position for hours to come. It was always calming, in a way.

Saya blinked with surprise when Serana unexpectedly sat up. "Trouble sleeping?" She asked, giving a sympathetic smile. Serana did not respond, only slowly turning to face the Dragonborn with a tired, listless expression. For a brief moment, their eyes met.

Saya did not have time to register that something was off when an ice spike came flying straight for her head.

The veil of sleep over Saya's mind vanished without a trace. The dodge was clumsy, a handful of red hairs scattering in the wind as the projectile just barely missed its target. "What the- Serana? What's going on?" She scrambled to her feet, adrenaline making her heart race. She watched as the vampire stood up and straightened her back. Her face was still just as blank and serene as a moment ago. She almost looked bored. "Serana?"

Once again, no reply came. Instead, Serana unsheathed the dagger hanging at her side and drew it across her palm. Then, she stepped forward and slashed towards Saya in the same continued motion, the blood from her hand splattering outward in an arc that followed her cut, massively extending the range. Saya's eyes widened in shock and she fell onto her back, getting away with only a small graze.

"Serana, stop! It's me! What's gotten into-" Saya's words stuck in her throat as in just a couple of inhumanly swift steps, Serana closed the distance between them and got on top of Saya, plunging the dagger down towards her throat. The tiny elf grunted as she struggled to hold back the blade that practically touched her neck, Serana's entire body weight put into that single strike.

Saya looked at the vampire with terrified eyes, struggling to find the right words or the breath to speak them. Her mind was utter chaos, horror and panic mixed with shock and hurt. She didn't betray her, she couldn't have, she would never. Did she fall asleep? "Serana…!" She called out, gasping when the dagger broke the skin between her collarbones. Still, no reaction. Serana watched her with hollow, uncaring eyes of a stranger staring at an inanimate object.

Saya's blood ran cold when she realized what was happening. With all the strength she could muster, she drew a shallow breath and mouthed a single word that made her skin crawl as it left her lips: "Gol!"

Suddenly, all resistance from Serana's side disappeared without a trace. Her entire body went still, like a jolt running through her spine after stepping into cold water unprepared. Her eyelids fell half-closed over unfocused eyes. The vampire's entire body fell slack as she moved away, sitting on Saya's stomach with an empty gaze. Saya drew a shaky breath, cold sweat running down her face. Did it work?

A moment later, Serana blinked as though she'd just woken up from a deep, deep sleep. "...Saya?" Serana mumbled, her tongue heavy and sluggish in her mouth. "Is it time for second watch already? Why are you…?"

Then, the vampire froze up. She saw Saya below her, pinned to the ground, a bleeding cut on her cheek. She felt her chest rising and falling in shallow, terrified breaths, cold sweat dripping down her forehead and between her red eyes, fluttering wide open with indescribable emotion. Her hands felt wet. She looked down and saw one hand clutching her knife while the other bled from a cut so fresh it still ached.

"...S-Serana?" The vampire felt a dull ache in her chest at the way Saya's voice shook when she called out her name. Their eyes met and Serana's lips trembled.

"I- I didn't… I didn't mean-" Serana stammered on the verge of sobbing, the dagger falling from her hand and onto the ground beside them. She reached to touch Saya's shoulder.

Saya recoiled.

The two of them remained completely motionless. Little by little, the tears that welled in the corners of Serana's eyes began to stream down her cheeks, and Saya felt the urge to claw out her own eyes just so she wouldn't have to see it. Her lips pursed, her face shifting from fear to relief to paranoid suspicion, and Serana didn't know which of them hurt more to see. Slowly, Serana moved back and got up, giving Saya the space she desperately needed but didn't know she could ask for. And then she simply stood there, wordless, her shaking gaze drifting to the knife that lay beside Saya, its silver blade smeared with two bloods.

"Serana?" Saya asked quietly as she sat up. Serana looked at her, fighting the urge to turn away in shame. "Is… is it you?"

A shaky nod. A pause. The rustling of cloth as Saya stood up to her feet.

Closer, into her ear: "...okay."

And then, Serana felt a pair of trembling arms wrap around her, Saya's face buried in her shoulder. When Serana hugged her back, her only response was a choked sob.

Neither of them slept any more that night.