The two of them had walked through snow and forest for several hours since the dawn of the day. Kelran had forced his wounds to heal through his own power and Elara had done the honours of hunting game each evening. Since the Inquisitor's incident at Windhelm, Kelran and Elara had been slowly travelling northwest through the southern reaches of the Pale and towards the Sea of Ghosts. Several days had passed since then, and hardly a word had been spoken.

Kelran trudged over the snowy ridge with Elara shortly behind him, longbow in hand. The Dunmer looked toward the sight that had just been unveiled; a vast expanse of snow and glaciers buried within a heavy blizzard. His elven eyes could only just make out the silhouette of a looming statue of Azura far to his right. He knelt down in the snow, placing down an open palm on the surface.

"Um, what are you doing?" asked Elara, her face a mask of confusion.

"Quiet." snapped Kelran, summoning forth energies buried deep within his body. Purple strands of light slithered their way through the snow like snakes to Kelran's hand before dissipating.

"The touch is light here. It's faint, but it's there."

The elf stood up again and brushed his hands of snow while Elara looked at him expectantly. The strong winds from the sea blustered forth fiercely across the white desert, causing Kelran and his companion to shield their eyes from the storm. The Dunmer stumbled forward against the wind while keeping a firm hand on his hood. Elara hurried in front of Kelran as they were enveloped by the blizzard.

"Which way are we going?" she shouted into the wind, her voice seemingly quiet against the raucous gales. Kelran pointed directly ahead into the haze of snow before her. Elara rolled her eyes. Kelran was always so keen to provide specifics.

Kelran took the lead again and struggled forward, the blistering cold piercing straight through his clothes. Looking down, he couldn't help but smile. His cold, black hands were covered in a thin layer of frost. The Dunmer suddenly stopped dead, the blizzard still circling around them. There was a familiar presence, a certain sensation in his gut. Narrowing his eyes, he tugged loose his ebony blade. Elara wandered past him obliviously and he pulled her back, raising a hand just as a black arrow flew through the air, shattering against Kelran's blue protective barrier.

"Stupid girl! Keep your wits about you or you'll meet an early end!" he spat, standing up straight and drawing his blade. Elara watched fearfully as the Dunmer stood with his sword outstretched to the side. The storm did not even seem to bother him now, almost as if Kelran had drowned out his surroundings through sheer will and focus. As he stood motionless against the storm, Elara watched as several dark figures slowly shuffled through the snow out of the heart of the blizzard. Their movements were rigid and their shapes slim with tell tale silhouettes of armour plating and bladed weapons. Then she saw their empty eyes.

"Kelran, they are Draugr!" she cried out to him over the howl of the wind.

The elf ignored her, his senses were finely attuned and he could feel the familiar sensation of magic coursing through them. If not for the blizzard, he would have sensed their cold presence ten minutes ago. Kelran's eyes snapped from one ice cold shambler to the next as they came into proper view, shuffling forward with their ancient blades held high and clad in black, battered steel from a bygone era. The Dunmer turned side-on to his foes as another black arrow whizzed past.

"Five in total; four with blades, one with a bow that I can't see...wait, no…"

His ears heard a shrill screech over the sound of the wind, one that was unmistakable. A lich. One draugr closed the gap quickly and swung from above with a greatsword, easily missing the swift elf as he sidestepped the undead. Quickly and efficiently, Kelran severed the head of the draugr before dashing to another two and easily cutting them down, their bodies falling limp in the snow. The elf span around and swung at the fourth with a diagonal slash. The draugr quickly parried the strike with a longsword before hitting him with its Thu'um, blasting him back several feet and launching his sword flying behind him. The draugr hurried forward to land the killing blow when a knife suddenly slammed into its left side. Kelran turned in the snow to see Elara crying out as she charged forward with a pair of daggers towards the draugr, leaping with both blades outstretched and burying them deep into its shoulders. The Breton then drew her bow and turned while still kneeling on the draugr carcass and began firing shots wildly into the blizzard. Kelran rushed forward to join her as a bright blue lance of ice shot through the snow, ripping through her gut and spewing blood over the sheet of white. Anger gripped the Dunmer as he gazed upon the girl, struggling and screaming into the storm. He turned his crimson eyes to the faint silhouette of his target, flexing his hands as he marched forward.

"Today, repugnant and vile lich," he roared, "you have trifled with the wrong Dunmer! Molad et Dradihn s'wit!"

Kelran outstretched his arms and allowed his emotions to take hold. Flames quickly curled around his body before being jetted forward in a great wall of orange and red. Over the roaring flames, he could hear the lich cry out in agony, its screams guttural and unnatural. Gradually, Kelran could feel his legs weaken and he dropped to one knee, however he was determined and kept his metal arms raised breathing fire over everything before him. Finally, Kelran's magicka reserves ebbed and he felt a wave of fatigue come over him as his flames died. After several seconds' recovery, he looked up and laughed manically as the blizzard dissipated. Everything ahead of him that had been alive was now a charred crisp, all the snow and ice had melted and slid down further towards the coastline. Kelran had always enjoyed demonstrating such power.

A spluttering cough brought his mind back to Nirn and he turned his head to a deeply injured Elara. Quickly, Kelran stood and rushed over to her. The girl was lying on her side, the bolt of ice lodged directly in her abdomen. Her eyes looked at him pleadingly.

"Elara, do your best not to move. We need to get this out of you." cautioned Kelran. Elara nodded and pulled at the ice lance, screaming out in pain and causing more blood to gush forward. Kelran winced and averted his eyes, then caught himself.

"What am I doing that for?" he thought.

Kelran shook his head, gripped the lance and gritted his teeth. Yanking backwards on the bolt, he slowly slid the ice lance out of her gut with Elara crying out in excruciating pain constantly. Eventually the entire length of ice came free from her body and she slumped back down in the snow, clutching her stomach.

"Elara."

The girl looked at him with uncertainty, dreading what he was going to say next.

"You know what needs to be done…" he said, kneeling next to her with a hand outstretched.

Her eyes went wide with fear as her dread became reality and she began shuffling backwards on her elbows.

"No! No, no, no please don't, I'm begging you!" she pleaded.

"Elara…" he sighed.

"Don't even try it! Please-"

Kelran punched her straight across the face, knocking her out and causing her head to drop back into the snow. Then, he turned his attention to her wound. It was messy, but nothing that couldn't be fixed. Carefully, the Dunmer lifted Elara into a seated position and then he put an ebony hand on both sides of the wound and pressed in. Very slowly, he poured heat through his hands and into her body at just the right temperature to seal her blood vessels but not too hot to do any further damage to her tissue. Satisfied, he laid her back down before repairing her body with his magic as purple energy seeped into her. His work completed, Kelran slumped backwards with exhaustion. Mending wounds, especially fatal ones, was certainly not his speciality. Struggling, the Dunmer got to his feet and glanced about, his eye catching a glimpse of his blade lying in the snow quite a way away. He shuffled through the snow and retrieved his sword before returning to where Elara still lay, sheathing it in its ornate scabbard at his hip.

Biting his lip, he looked down at the unconscious girl. Elara's skin had become pale, she had lost a lot of blood and wouldn't be fit for travel even if he woke her up. Kelran slid off his mask and dropped his hood, taking a look up into the sky and then quickly surveying his surroundings. The blizzard had completely cleared now, the cold blue sky of the Pale was a refreshing change. He sighed and wiped a cold hand over his face. It wouldn't be too long until the sun fell below the horizon.

"You're in no state to travel, girl." he said, looking down at her still face, "but then neither can I also take you with me. Time is too precious."

Kelran crossed his arms and furrowed his brow, then he drew his sword. Slowly, the Dunmer walked a circle around Elara, using his blade to trace a large glyph around her in the snow. The circle complete, he muttered a brief incantation and the glyph burned with fire.

"This is the best I can do for you. It will keep you warm and should ward off any attackers." he said.

"Farewell, Elara Ashcroft. We'll cross paths again, I am certain."

With that, Kelran turned and started off back towards the Sea of Ghosts, struggling to stop himself from looking back. Moving through the heart of the Pale,where snow fell to ice, Kelran stopped as the ground directly ahead gave way to a crevasse. Even with elven agility, his steps were hesitant. The crevasse extended deep into the abyss so far that his crimson eyes could not see the bottom. Quickly the cold weather picked up again, hitting the coast with powerful winds and dusting snow and ice into the air.

"After all of this, I am not going to fall down some hole to my death. That would be an absurd way to end. What would old man Neloth think?"

Kelran looked at the opposite side of the crevasse. The gap was quite large; it would take a Khajit to jump that distance. Bracing himself against the wind and shielding his eyes, Kelran reached behind him and drew a balanced knife from a set of small scabbards at his lower back. Gripping the knife in a black hand, he infused the cold steel with quiet incantations, bringing to life a small blue rune etched on the blade. Taking the knife by the blade between his thumb and index finger, he hurled the blade across the crevasse, watching as the blade slammed into the ice on the opposite side. Kelran cursed, the blade had not even gone over the chasm. Shaking his head, he took a deep breath and then slammed his open palm against the ice, blue light shrouding his body as it reappeared on the other side of the crevasse, his right hand gripped firmly around the grip of his knife.

The Dunmer looked down as he hung over the abyss and began laughing nervously. The sensation of hanging inches away from death was thrilling to the dark elf. Kelran looked back up and squinted his eyes against the light. He slowly reached behind him with his left hand and tugged another knife free, holding it in reverse. Kelran pulled up slightly with his right arm, checking if the knife was strong enough to take the extra force. Feeling a lot more comfortable when the blade held, he reached up further with his left and planted that into the ice. Over the course of ten minutes, Kelran slowly traversed the wall of the crevasse, finally reaching the top. As Kelran clambered back onto the surface, he fell forward in the snow. Hanging for so long had put immense strain on his arms. He sat up and grimaced as he checked where ebony met flesh. Just as he thought, the seals had begun to bleed. Standing up he rolled his shoulders and soldiered on into the harsh wind.

Finally, Kelran's dark boots left snow and touched dirt, sand and ice-cold water. Once again, he planted an open palm against the ground, summoning forth more purple strands of light through the surface.

"Yes, there it is. It's very close now. A door hidden in plain sight…"

The Dunmer stood up and looked around. Before him lay the Sea of Ghosts, the vast expanse of water and ice that stretched between the northern coast of Skyrim and ancient Atmora, the homeland of the first Nords. Behind him lay the desert of snow and ice, but along the coastline itself was littered with rock, debris and the occasional mudcrab. Kelran reached into one of the pockets adorning his bandolier and produced a black soul gem, still emblazoned with purple runes.

"Bandits are just so arrogant…" he smiled, as he held the soul gem in both hands, almost like he was trying to smother it. The Dunmer spoke lightly under his breath, then he let go of the soul gem. The stone hovered as the purple runes burned with unnatural fire, enveloping the gem entirely. Kelran gazed at the stone with a certain admiration for himself. Never before had he seen a wizard manage to pull this off so easily. Eventually, the stone shattered, releasing a burst of purple fire which then seemed to take the form of a man.

"Why have I been called, Dra'gaharihn?" spoke the man, its voice deeply ethereal and unnatural.

"Find the door to the Soul, spirit." instructed Kelran with authority.

The spirit nodded and broke apart into three purple orbs that flew in different directions. After several moments, the orbs returned, circling each other as one entity. Kelran raised an eyebrow and folded his arms. The orbs then split, turned and collided, reforming the figure of a man.

"The entrance moves with us, Dra'gaharihn. As of now, we are the door." spoke the spirit.

"Then open it before I keep you locked in the Soul Cairn, or would you prefer Oblivion?" threatened Kelran.

The spirit groaned in annoyance and then split into the orbs once more. The orbs arranged themselves in an inverted triangle across the ground before the wizard, pale purple lines of light linked them together. Almost immediately, the ground quaked, shaking up dust and snow and startling Kelran. As he brushed himself off, the triangle glowed with power, giving off a loud hum.

"Thank you kindly." he mocked, briskly stepping into the triangle. The elf's vision of the coastline was replaced with that of a large cavern. A strong metallic taste rested on his tongue as he walked forward, seeing the triangle still behind him.

The cavern was immense, it was round with the walls reaching around forty feet high and curving inwards at the ceiling towards an open gap that allowed a single beam of light to stream down onto the object that he had been seeking. It was almost as if the cavern had been carved out by a gigantic hand, but with great precision. Each ridge in the walls was elegant and graceful, smoothly curved and etched with ancient runes that he did not recognise. Directly in the centre of the cavern stood a large set of stairs set into the side of a great stone, and atop the stone rested a pedestal.

Kelran approached hesitantly and started up the steps, each footfall echoing throughout the cave. Reaching the summit, he walked towards the pedestal and gazed upon it with relief. The Soul of Trinimac.

Kelran reached forward slowly, picking it up in an ebony hand. The Soul was locked in a perfectly spherical white stone. It was glassy in appearance, but like most Aedric artifacts, Kelran knew this would be nigh on impenetrable. Kelran found the stone surprisingly light, but he could feel the power locked inside. The very soul to the champion of a god.

"Strange how a simple looking stone could bring about the end of the Empire-"

His train of thought was cut off as something sharp pierced his chest. Kelran looked down and saw, in a mix of surprise and fear, an arrow protruding from his body. His body collapsed and he felt his power wane as a woman stepped over him.

"No…"

Elara bent down and picked up the stone, giving a quick smile to Kelran.

"Thank you for doing all the work for us, mysterious Dunmer."

Kelran's eyes followed her as he tried to speak. Elara quickly walked back down the steps and towards the triangular portal where three men cloaked in black robes, accented with gold, stood waiting. The lead man locked eyes with Kelran. An elf, sharp features, golden skin, blond hair and a power hungry visage. An Altmer.

"You have done very well, Dra'gaharihn, or should I say, 'death mage'." he called to him, holding the stone up high, inspecting it with keen eyes. "The Thalmor were never going to be beaten at such an easy game as this!"

The Altmer laughed and left through the portal with the other two and Elara.

Elara.

A Thalmor Agent.