While I lead our forces against the Thalmor blockade said to be outside of Windhelm, I wish for the five of you to purge the Thalmor Embassy. Burn it to the ground if possible, and make it very clear how willing we are to accept the elves into our province. Leave no Thalmor elf alive for any reason, even if they beg or offer you obscene amounts of money; Talos does not look favorably upon those who show mercy to His own enemies.

-Heimskr

She watched the blockade from afar, eyes narrowed as she searched for the best way into the city. She didn't even want to be here, but she'd had a very compelling reason to come.

Najati glanced down at a golden pendant with a flawless sapphire at its core, hanging around her neck, which, as of late, had been glowing a pale blue. The pendant had also been tugging her in the direction of Windhelm for quite a while now, although she didn't know the destination until she'd drawn closer.

En'zhar had told her, once, that if the pendant glowed in such a manner and tugged her in a direction, it meant he was dead, and that she was to retrieve his body from the location he died at, no matter how it may pass. He'd said the pendant was important to him, and that was why he left it with Najati. 'It is safest with the loveliest kitten possessing the most dangerous claws', he had said at the time.

While she'd been flattered to be trusted with something of such great importance to her love, she had to admit she didn't find anything special about it herself. She'd mostly worn it as a good luck charm, provided to her by him. She'd never given much thought to why it was so important to him.

Her gaze flicked back up to the blockade. If he was dead, though, then someone would pay dearly for killing the man she loved. The two Khajiit may not have always seen eye-to-eye before, but that didn't mean they disliked each other, simply that they were looking out for one another's best interests. At least, that's what Najati was doing whenever she was so critical of En'zhar.

She watched a pair of people slip out from the bridge leading to Windhelm, chuckled as they approached the western barricades. The Thalmor intervened, of course, trying to keep them from leaving - as a blockade should do - but they seemed adamant on slipping past. When the Thalmor drew weapons, a couple dropped almost instantaneously, much to the Khajiit's curiosity. The two hadn't drawn weapons yet, had they? Or had they, and Najati simply hadn't seen it clearly?

Even Najati could hear the very faint shouts from where she stood. They were male and elven - Thalmor, most likely. They were trying to raise an alarm. Soon, the pair would be overrun by Thalmor from the camp further to the east. Najati contemplated her options; could she possibly slip by while the blockade was defeated in the west, and slip into the city from there?

She decided to try. She slipped from her hiding spot on the cliffs overlooking the western fork in the road, carefully descended the rocky cliff face, and rushed for the city, all the while keeping an eye on the few Thalmor that remained standing in the face of this mysterious duo.

As she drew nearer, she recognized one of them, and managed the first grin she'd shown in a long while. "Well now, you have been busy," she chuckled, slowing gradually until coming to a stop; the last of the Thalmor had fallen scant moments before she'd spoken.

Her rival, Mia, was standing with her hands on her knees, catching her breath a bit. She glanced up at the familiar voice, and smirked at Najati. "Aye. Gotta keep meself busy somehow, or else I lose me mind."

"So attacking the Thalmor blockade is the best means of keeping yourself busy. Seems reasonable." She climbed over one of the wooden barricades. "I've been watching and waiting for the best opportunity to get into the city. Thank you both for creating that opportunity for me." She glanced at the second figure. The elf from the Nightgate Inn, whom En'zhar had tried to have killed not long before then; although she was no longer in elven armor, there was no mistaking the hair, the face, or the mace at her side.

Adalla, her name was. Najati had to think a bit for the name, but it came to her eventually.

"You two ought to get moving," Najati commented. "I heard the Thalmor's alarm from my hiding place back there, so there's no doubt in my mind the rest know something is amiss here."

"Aye." Mia was already straightening up and starting for the city once more. "That were more tirin' than I thought it'd be. We gotta look at this another way, Adalla, or else we gonna get killed tryin' t'break this here blockade ourselves."

"The fact that you two are trying to break it yourselves may be a problem," Najati murmured. "Once I get what I came to the city for, perhaps I might help?"

The mer looked at the Khajiit warily. "What are you here for?" she asked, her voice confirming she was indeed Adalla.

"That's my business. Or do you mean to tell me you'd tell me why you two are here, if I asked?"

Neither one spoke up.

"Exactly." Najati glanced toward the bridge leading to the city. "Let's get to the city, then. We're in danger the longer we linger here."

The first thing Elenwen felt was her fingers twitching occasionally, against her will. She could only imagine the shock magic Vernanye had subjected her to was still affecting her. Her eyelids felt heavy, but she was still able to force them to flutter open.

She had not been expecting the sight to greet her eyes to be Runael. She also hadn't been expecting to still be in the small, stony chamber she'd led Runael to. She wasn't sure what she'd been expecting, either; she certainly hadn't been expecting to still be alive.

"Elenwen," Runael said softly. As the Arch-Mage's arms squeezed the former First Ambassador, Elenwen became aware that her body was being held up by Runael's arms, her head upon... something soft. "You're... awake."

"What...? How...?"

"I... saved you," Runael murmured. "From Vernanye. I stopped her from... from turning you to ash."

"Why?" Elenwen was genuinely confused; was this still the same Runael who'd condemned her to death once already, and the same Runael she'd tried to paralyze and throw to the Thalmor? Why was she being so... benevolent?

"I'm wondering that myself," she mused.

"Runael..."

"I'm kidding." Runael paused for a moment. "I suppose... because now, I realize how important things are."

"'Things'?" Elenwen was wondering what encompassed 'things'.

"Well..." The younger mer looked thoughtful for a moment; Elenwen was now aware of the fact that Runael's fingers were running through the former First Ambassador's hair gently. "Us, I suppose is the best way to put it. I've been doing some thinking... you already know about the Augur, and..." Her voice trailed. "...What if I pushed you to the betrayal he warned me about? You trying to turn me in would be the betrayal..."

Elenwen sighed heavily, and tried to move her body. It was sluggish and mostly unresponsive, but she was able to shift a little. "You're going somewhere with this, I'm assuming..." she muttered.

"I am." She pulled her fingers away from Elenwen's hair. "This entire thing... it's all my fault. I can't even bring myself to fault you for trying to turn me in. You wouldn't be..." She sighed. "...I've had time to think that maybe it's right if my fate is decided by you. I've betrayed you twice now... abadoned you twice, possibly even three times now... so maybe this is the right thing to do." She stood slowly, and grasped both of Elenwen's hands in her own, then, with some effort, pulled the other mer to her feet; her hands looped around Elenwen to hold her up.

"So just... just like that...?" Elenwen muttered. "You'd trust your fate to my hands?"

"Yes." Runael let go of Elenwen only once the former First Ambassador's balance seemed perfect - or very close to it, at any rate; Elenwen was still feeling a bit woozy. "So what will you do? I won't resist, whichever way you choose."

Elenwen's mind reeled for a moment. She didn't know what to do. Ultimately... "I want to turn you in, Runael. You have betrayed not only me, but my trust as well, several times. I just... I know it won't make my own punishment easier, but I want to make things right."

Runael nodded lightly, and relaxed visibly. "I understand."

"And yet..." Elenwen trembled a bit. "I can't. I want to, but I can't bring myself to. I want to forget about you, but how is someone supposed to forget the one they love? I just..." She gave Runael a forlorn look. "Why, Rune? Why did you defect in the first place...?"

"A reason won't make this any easier, Elenwen. In the end, all that matters is that I did. I had my reasons, that's for sure, but they're meaningless now. We... no, I need to look to the present, and the future."

Despite the situation, Elenwen chuckled softly... bitterly. "We may not have a future. Thellias has blockaded the city's entrance, after all. The only way out of this is the break the blockade... or turn ourselves in... and even then, they may not lift the blockade just because they have us. Starve to death, become prisoners of the Dominion, or fight likely impossible odds..."

Runael sighed softly. "We don't have great odds, no. We'll pull through somehow, though, I just know it. We've pulled through... worse, I think?"

Elenwen chuckled quietly. "Not really. Nothing like this." She calmed after a moment, and stared at Runael for a time. "...No matter how this ends, Rune... I don't want to have regrets. I don't... I don't want to be the one to determine your fate. That should be your decision, not mine. I want you to make the best decision you can for yourself, as well."

The Arch-Mage smiled warmly. "For what it's worth, Elenwen... I'm sorry. For defecting, for... for everything, really."

"I can't say 'it's alright', but... I think I understand."

"Do you?"

Elenwen sighed and shook her head. "No... not really. I don't think I'll ever understand, either. I don't know that I can ever forgive you... but I may be willing to forget, somehow. I don't know how someone forgets something so... so dire as what you've done to me... but... well, love makes people do crazy things."

"It does, yes." Runael's hands rested upon Elenwen's hips gently. "...So, ideas...?"

"You mean on how to get out? No, none." It was Elenwen's turn to rest her own hands upon Runael, though her hands went to Runael's shoulders. "Though... how long has it been since we've been truly alone?" she added in a low tone.

"Quite a while. Several months, I'd think." Runael stepped closer to Elenwen, just a couple of small steps.

Elenwen thought they were enough, and she closed the rest of the distance, her front pressed gently to Runael's. "Then are you thinking of the same thing I am?"

"I might be. I have a question, though... how are we going to do this?" She swept an arm about the stony chamber. "There's no bed-"

Elenwen silenced Runael by pressing her lips to the Arch-Mage's own lips firmly. The kiss was held for several long moments; in that moment, Elenwen knew she was making the right decision, not turning Runael and herself in to Thellias and the Dominion.

It had been... all told, a surreal experience for Najati. She'd been forewarned about the pendant and its current behavior, and what it entailed, but she still couldn't quite believe she was seeing En'zhar's dead body, a savage wound at his throat. It also looked like his chest had been... it looked like someone or something had carved his heart from his chest. It was troubling, to say the least. What was she supposed to do? It had guided her to his body, but she didn't know what to do.

She contemplated rolling the barrel his body was stored in somewhere more secluded, somewhere she wouldn't be asked questions. Right next to the gate to the docks was hardly a fitting place.

And yet, where in Windhelm would be best? Where could she roll this barrel holding his body without drawing attention? The only places she could think of were alleyways and similar locations in the residential areas, not the dark elven slums.

Almost as if reading her mind, the pendant tried to tug her away from the barrel and the body. Unsure of what was happening now, she decided to just go with it, and followed the glowing pendant to its chosen destination.

It was hardly secluded in the truest sense of the term, but guards didn't seem to patrol it. She'd recognized the Free-Winter house and the Aretino Residence as she'd passed them both, and was now in the small turn leading to the Palace's courtyard; the pendant had stopped her in the corner of the turn, which meant she had some sort of privacy, at any rate.

A shame, what happened to that body. I was quite well-adjusted to it. En'zhar's voice filled her mind now, and the pendant seemed to pulse with the words. Najati didn't know what was going on, or if she could communicate with-

You can. I am reading your thoughts, and speaking into your mind. This is a practice I have perfected over several decades. Ever since I was first killed.

Najati wondered wildly what that meant. Was En'zhar undead?

To a point. My body died, but my soul... ah, my soul, I stored in a safe place... a place none thought to look. You wear that 'place' about your neck.

Najati glanced down at the pendant, still glowing and hovering in the air.

Precisely.

She wondered what was going to happen. If En'zhar was undead 'to a point', what exactly did that mean? Was he a lich, or a ghost, or something similar?

Lich. I was a necromancer of formidable skill decades ago. I was stopped, however, by the now Jarl Balgruuf the Greater and his friend and now-Housecarl, Irileth. Well, I say 'stopped', but they didn't stop my ascension, nor did they defeat me. Indeed, my first true defeat didn't come until exactly a decade after my ascension. My original body was destroyed, but because of my phylactery, I survived. I was able to project my soul from my phylactery long enough to peruse my old notes once more, to try and figure out a way to restore myself to glorious life... or rather, to a physical, living body.

Najati wondered if she'd ever known the true En'zhar.

Yes and no. My personality matches my original self, to an extent, but I have tried to avoid magic altogether in my present incarnation. It has a tendency to draw unwanted attention, you understand. Anyway, on to business. You did well, bringing my phylactery to my body... unfortunately, it doesn't seem as though I'll be able to reunite with myself, not this time. I would surely die again if I tried. There is another solution, however... and it involves your aid.

The Khajiit wasn't sure she liked where this was going.

No, you wouldn't. You see, yours is the closest body nearby for me to possess. In order for me to possess you, I would need to oust your soul. You will technically die, and your body will become my own.

She grit her teeth. This was completely unfair; he gets himself killed, and she was just supposed to roll over and let herself die just so he could stand and get himself killed again?

I don't expect you to understand, Najati. I've been at this a lot longer than you... and as such, I know when the price of a live sacrifice is justifiable. In this instance, your sacrifice for my own sake is very justified. You did, after all, once say that you would gladly die for me... or were you lying to me?

Before she could even think of an answer, she felt something like a hand close around her heart from within. She gasped out, and collapsed to a knee, eyes wide in both pain and shock. The grip... it was both physical, and yet at the same time... spiritual? Was that even possible?

It's easier if you just accept me, Najati. Don't resist, and this won't hurt as much.

She clutched her chest with one hand, her claws digging very faintly into her own body as she did. The sensation was... bizarre, otherworldly. She knew she didn't like it, and was determined to fight it.

Why would you fight it? This is for my sake, after all. With your sacrifice, I will continue to live, and your noble memory will live on forever in my own actions from here on out. You will not be forgotten, Najati.

Her free hand brushed against the hilt of one of her daggers, and her gaze went down to it. She thought for but a moment about how best to free herself of this accursed fate.

You wouldn't dare.

She gave her 'reply' by yanking the pendant from around her neck and casting it to the ground as hard as she could. It clattered noisily on the stones, but didn't break; almost immediately after she removed it, she felt that icy grip around her heart loosen... but it persisted still. Did she have to actually break it in order to free herself?

Deciding it was worth a try, she drove her dagger into the center of the pendant, trying to break it. The glowing light flickered in an agitated manner, but there was no mental communication. Feeling empowered by the assumption he disapproved, she continued to try and destroy the pendant with her dagger.

The harder she tried, though, the tighter that grip on her heart became. Eventually, her blows to the pendant became weaker and weaker, so great was the pressure. It... hurt. So much. She wasn't sure there were words to describe just how much it hurt.

What hurt the most, though, was the fact that En'zhar had used her, in the end. She had simply been a place to hide the pendant, under the guise that it was a gift for her, yet something to keep safe regardless. She wondered idly if he ever actually loved her, or if he had deceived her from the very beginning. The sting of his betrayal of her trust was what hurt, ultimately. She had entrusted much with him - secrets, thoughts, opinions, and several physical acts of trust, as well... was he really going to just throw it all away?

Rather than devote herself to the series of repeated stabs to the pendant, Najati decided to put all of her remaining strength behind one final blow; if this worked, she would be free of his influence... but if not, well, she was only ever that strong to begin with, and was a fool to think she was stronger. Panting in equal parts weariness and discomfort, Najati rose the dagger over her head, clasped it with both hands, and brought the tip down as fiercely as she could upon the pendant.

The effect was noticeable: although the pendant didn't shatter on impact, or even split in half as she'd hoped, a series of cracks did spread from the point of impact, a sure sign of just how much damage she'd done to it. And yet, even though an ethereal, blue-green substance of some sort seemingly oozed from the cracks, as if bleeding, the pendant appeared, all told, to still be intact. Was it hopeless to try and destroy something of this nature? Had he enchanted it to be unbreakable, or some such? Did such an enchantment exist?

She saw a figure... no, two figures approaching the Aretino Residence. Although she'd been hoping for secrecy at first, she hoped they could see her and would investigate, would realize something was amiss. She wanted to tell whoever they were that En'zhar wasn't truly dead yet, that he-

She blinked as the gripping sensation around her heart loosened almost instantaneously, then released her heart altogether. She gasped out and collapsed to her knees, one hand on the stone path, the other clutching at her chest, as if doing so would ease the internal suffering she'd just endured. She glanced up to see an arrow buried in the center of the pendant, the cracks made more evident by the impact. The pendant still seemed to be intact, but En'zhar's soul seemed to have given up the effort... or was far too weakened to be of any further threat to her.

The first thing she'd noticed about the arrow itself was that it was... exquisite. Not a simple iron arrow, nor a crude arrow as the draugr used... but the arrowhead itself bespoke fine craftsmanship. It was...

"Ebony..." Najati murmured, voice cracking from both disuse and the pain she'd just endured.

"Oy." Mia stepped closer, her bow in hand, yet being replaced at her back; it had been her rival that had saved her life from En'zhar's sinister influence. "Ya alright?" Her eyes went to the pendant. "...What in Oblivion- a pendant? I thought it were some strange creature what were threatenin' ya... but pendants don't bleed, do they?"

"Not usually," the second figure - Adalla - murmured. Although she'd had no weapon at the ready on her approach, she was reaching for her mace now. "Though... am I right in assuming you're trying to destroy it?"

"Yes." Najati shot a venomous glare at the pendant. "It was not what I thought. In the end, it was simply a tool for betrayal... and I, the betrayed. I would sooner see it destroyed than let its original owner get away with what he planned."

Even damaged as it was, the pendant pulsed faintly, as if in defiance.

"Then allow me." Adalla stepped forward and, with one heavy blow, brought the mace crashing down on the pendant. All three heard the sound of the pendant breaking; Najati knew she saw several pieces of it fly away from the point of impact. She was also aware that none of the pieces bore that unusual substance upon them, which made her worry.

"So what were that 'bout?" Mia asked softly, once Adalla had lifted the mace to make sure the pendant was indeed done for.

"First, we gather the pieces up and bring them to the smelter in the Stone Quarter," Najati said. "Only once they are molten will I discuss it."

How long had it been since she and Elenwen had lay together beneath the stars? Runael couldn't remember the last time, but was fairly certain it hadn't happened since they departed Alinor for Skyrim. At the time, they'd simply been acquainted and flirtatious - or rather, she'd been flirtatious, while Elenwen had been... well, simply receptive. When they found out, days later, that they were going to be sent to Skyrim to 'maintain a Dominion presence' there, they'd seen it as some sort of... fate. That flirtatious evening in Alinor had been but a precursor to what they'd ultimately get up to in Skyrim itself.

She wondered if they'd ever get to see the stars again, for that matter. They were still in the stony chamber, away from the prying eyes of the guards and other passersby who happened to have business at the stables - or managed to slip by the blockade. They had to content themselves with the stony ceiling overhead, instead, and had to settle for the cloudy skies shown through tiny slits in the wall - ancient Nordic ideas of 'windows', no doubt.

Her fingers trailed along Elenwen's sides gently, and she closed her eyes slowly. The former First Ambassador had nodded off quite some time ago, despite her protests that she still had energy to spare. Considering the two hadn't done anything yet, Runael knew it was simply general exhaustion presumably catching up with Elenwen. In a way, it was cute.

Well... as she looked both Elenwen and herself over, she came to amend her prior thought. They had decided to strip down to their undergarments. When Elenwen had nodded off, though, Runael had decided she'd adorn her Arch-Mage's robes once more, and had covered Elenwen's otherwise exposed figure with the fine clothes she'd been wearing beforehand. They were, for all intents and purposes, still outside, after all, and the cold night air of Skyrim reminded her of that fact. She had contemplated a fire of some sort, but had to dismiss that notion when she realized there was no fuel for such a fire nearby... and that trying to split firewood in the city would be impossible, thanks to the guards barring them re-entry into the city. At least, she presumed they would bar them entry; she wondered idly if they'd drag her back to the Palace of the Kings, where Ulfric would make good on his threat to kill them both, or if they'd deliver the two mer to the Thalmor directly. Probably the latter, although she wouldn't put it past Ulfric to give his men and women the order to bring them back so he could kill them both.

She felt Elenwen's figure tremble slightly next to her, and her attention was redirected to the one she once loved... to the one she, all told, still did love. Recent developments had been chaotic, and had made them question each other's loyalty - and in Runael's case, her own loyalty - but in the end, they'd decided that they were both more than willing to work past the first actual fights they'd had since they'd... well, become an item. Another tremble brought Runael back to the present, and with a faint chuckle, she silently berated herself for losing herself in thought when Elenwen clearly needed warmth.

She did too, of course, but she suspected she would endure. Her first instinct had been to wrap Elenwen up in her arms and hold her close and tight, but that wouldn't provide enough warmth to either of them... although it would be quite romantic, all told. No, she needed to get an actual fire going, somehow.

As she wracked her mind for a possible solution, Elenwen stirred next to her. She heard the former First Ambassador groan lightly, and felt the other mer move to hug herself. "Did... did I nod-"

"You did, yes." Runael rolled onto her side and propped herself up on an elbow; it was the very definition of 'uncomfortable', because they were laying upon cold stone, but she would endure. "You must have been exhausted."

"I... was. I still am, I suppose..." Elenwen's hand covered her mouth for a few moments; Runael didn't have to hear or see anything to know she was yawning, though. When Elenwen's gaze shifted to Runael, the first thing she noticed... "You got dressed again."

"Well, I didn't know how long you were going to be asleep," the Arch-Mage admitted. "I didn't want to freeze myself to death waiting. I'd have dressed you more properly, if I didn't care about the fact that you were sleeping."

"Sweet as ever," Elenwen commented with a soft chuckle. "So a fire was beyond the great Arch-Mage's capabilities?"

"Conjuring firewood is something I haven't yet learned to do," she replied wryly. "I doubt such a spell exists, too; no doubt I'd have to create such a spell myself."

They were both silent for a time. The realization that they were still trapped, with no food beyond whatever rested in the few barrels surrounding them and with no heat source, had gripped both of them once more.

"Rune... I've been thinking..." Elenwen began slowly. "Life in Alinor is... impossible for both of us now, given..."

"Right."

"...As much as I don't care for Skyrim, there is a sort of... wild beauty to it I've come to appreciate. So perhaps... we could and should live here, together, from now on?"

Runael reached out with her other hand and gently smacked Elenwen's cheek. "Are we sure you're awake? I was fairly sure that was the plan in the first place. I'm the Arch-Mage of the College, after all... I sort of have to live here."

"But what about-"

She leaned forward to gently kiss Elenwen's lips. "I'm not going to abandon you again," she murmured quietly. "You would, and will, be most welcome at the College. As a guest, an apprentice-"

"Excuse me?" The thought of Elenwen being an 'apprentice' was apparently appalling, for her tone and expression were both of pure disbelief.

"Even I started as an apprentice to the College. It's not the most glamorous title, I know, but if you truly have a grasp for magic, you will soon ascend that degrading title in favor of something better." She ran a finger up Elenwen's side, and grinned softly as the former First Ambassador shivered at the touch. "My point is that no matter what it takes to officially welcome you to the College, you will forever be welcome there."

Elenwen's smile was faint, but still there. "Thank you." She shifted to wrap her arms around Runael, but stopped once her clothes, still draped over her own figure, slid away and exposed her skin to the cold air. "Agh... too cold to..."

"Find me some firewood in our immediate surroundings, and I'll fix the problem," Runael commented. "In the meantime, you could get dressed to help with the issue of the cold."

Elenwen silently chose the option to get dressed, and soon, both mer were again in their respective clothes once more.

"...Would I really be welcome at the College?"

"What do you mean?" Runael asked, not sure where Elenwen was coming from with the question.

"The others there... would they accept me?"

"If not immediately, then with time, yes. They accepted Vernanye over time; it's just a matter of earning their trust, and not breaking it."

The name made Elenwen bristle; apparently, mentioning Runael's older sister was going to have a negative impact on Elenwen from now on.

"Sorry."

"It's... I'll manage." She sat up and hugged her knees to her chest. "I just don't-"

As someone came into view at the entrance to the chamber, they both fell silent and both became very alert; Runael had a spell at the ready, flames crackling between her fingertips and in her palms.

"Good. Then ya can light these here logs and whatnot and get us a fire goin'," came the now familiar voice of Mia, who had been the one to enter the chamber first; in her arms were several pieces of firewood. "We got more, too, so as not t'freeze our asses off overnight."

Adalla filed in behind Mia, carrying an assortment of wood in varying shapes, sizes and density; apparently, she'd recognized the need for smaller wood to get a fire to catch in the first place. She offered a smile at Runael, who returned it.

When the Arch-Mage turned to Elenwen, to comment on their good fortune, it was to find the former First Ambassador's gaze was locked upon the third who entered, her face etched with equal parts hatred and fear.

The female Khajiit who had been with E at the Nightgate Inn strode into the room, holding firewood as well... except now, she appeared as if she'd just endured some horrific trial. The Khajiit looked at Elenwen for a time, and allowed her tired expression to be replaced by a condescending smirk.

"What is she doing here?" Elenwen asked, her voice practically a whisper, finger pointing at the Khajiit.

"She's here t'help us get outta Windhelm," Mia said, glancing back at the Khajiit. "I know she ain't the most trustworthy person in Skyrim-"

"I am right here, you know," the Khajiit pointed out.

"-but ya can't go wrong with Najati helpin' ya get somethin' done; I can attest t'that meself." Mia had finished as if Najati hadn't spoken. "And t'be honest, we'll be needin' all the help we can get, aye? Adalla and I poked the western barricade... what, few hours ago? Needless t'say, she and I ain't gonna be enough t'break this here blockade they got set up."

It took Runael and Elenwen both a moment to register what Mia was saying. "You don't mean..." Elenwen murmured.

"Aye, I do." Mia dropped her load of firewood on the floor, and reached into a small pouch with a piece of paper stowed away within it. She unfolded it, and smoothed it out on the floor.

It was a map, though Runael recognized what little writing it bore as Adalla's own. It looked to be a map of the immediate area outside of Windhelm...

"We're gonna break this here blockade, one way or another. With five of us, it ain't as crazy as it would be with just Adalla and me. And we're gonna do it afore sunrise, so listen up, aye?"

A.N. - I'd like to hold a moment of silence for Flames.

...

There.

This is because, as of this past weekend, the final chapters of Flames are written. This one, plus the three to follow, are the final chapters of this story. It has indeed been a long road, and I have been met with much writer's block, but on the whole, it's been a fun story to write.

En'zhar was the lich. Does it have any real relevance to the plot? Well... perhaps not so much. It was a loose end to tie up, and I figured this chapter before the big, three-part 'the end' chapter was as good a place as any. I will admit, it feels kinda... rushed, and I don't feel like I alluded to it enough throughout the story, but he'd been the lich since it was first introduced. Does that mean he's done for, seeing whereas his pendant - the phylactery - was destroyed? Well... I'll leave that up to speculation.

One of the biggest points of self-debate was whether or not to go full-on sexual with Runael/Elenwen's scenes. I heavily contemplated it, and then decided against it, then thought 'well, it could be...' The end result is what you see here. It's not that I have an aversion to writing it, I just wasn't sure if it was something I wanted to include. I do have two stories tailing Flames, and will probably write/update both alongside each other - and one of them will have a more brazenly sexual scene in it. Which one?

That's telling. ;)

On to the next chapter!

-Spiritslayer