And Nerevar certainly was furious.

"I gave you both explicit instructions," he said; it was only by virtue of spending the past few years as a leader that he wasn't yelling–the Neht that Vehk had met several years ago wasn't quite so good at tempering his passion, good or bad. Even so, his tone was snappish and short. "I told you to keep your heads down, and you get into a fight."

"It was my fault," Vivec said quickly. "I left the room and–"

"I don't care whose fault it was, you both ignored orders and put yourselves at risk," Nerevar interrupted. Alandro, standing just behind him, crossed his arms and tsked.

"I don't know what you expected, Nerevar," he said dryly. "This is what happens when you conscript children."

That sent Vivec's hackles up. "Just because we're young doesn't make us useless. Even if we're still learning, we–"

"You cock it up because you don't have any lived experience," Alandro shot back.

"And what would you have done, Sul, if you had been in my…"

"Stop. The both of you, stop," Nerevar said, holding up his hands. He let out a sharp breath, rubbing his face before he looked up at the ceiling with a very quiet, "Azura help us."

Amidst the arguing, Voryn–who'd been tasked with explaining to the family why there were suddenly five of them in the house when they'd only expected two–had slipped silently back into the room. His arms were folded as he watched the scene, and he looked down to Sil.

"Did you kill them?" he asked plainly as the room went quiet.

Sil, nose still bloodied and slightly crooked, sniffed and shook his head. "I don't think so. Vivec stabbed one."

"Not lethally; just to his stomach. Easy to heal," Vivec added.

"Pity."

Nerevar let out a long breath, light eyes narrowing at Voryn as he swept over to Sil. "There's a time and place for killing; that wasn't it."

"No? Certainly seemed like the Nords thought it was." He tilted Sil's face up. "This will hurt." Before anyone could intervene, he tweaked the younger mer's nose back into place, with a flash of gold healing magic quickly following. Sil, to his credit, didn't so much as yelp; he never seemed to make any noise when in peril, Vivec was noticing. He shook his head once Voryn let him go. "Did they take anything from you?"

Sil glanced down at the scrap metal he was still cradling. "My bag. It had…" He glanced over at Nerevar and Alandro before he looked back to Voryn. "...tools in it. From the dwemer."

"Mm." Voryn straightened up, a flick of his head sending a wave of dark hair over his shoulder casually. "I'll go alert the authorities, then."

"The authorities aren't going to…" Vivec's argument died as Voryn glanced at him, a dangerous flash in his dark eyes, though it wasn't directed at him. Ah.

"Sil, come with me," Voryn said, crooking a finger. "You've shown you have a good memory; I want you to tell me what these Nords look like, for my report. We can clean your face up a bit as well."

Sil glanced up at Vivec, who nodded for him to go along. As the two made their way out, Vivec turned his attention back to Nerevar and Alandro. The latter was still watching him coolly, and the former had taken a seat as he rubbed his forehead. When he did finally look up at him, Vivec suddenly felt much, much younger, once again a boy picked up by a wandering rebel and neck-deep in a world he wasn't prepared for.

"So what did you find?" Nerevar asked.

Vivec blinked once. "What?"

"I'm going to assume you were scouting. It wouldn't be like you to wander without any purpose." Neht beckoned him over to sit. Cautiously, Vehk did so, pose stiff as he waited for the chiding he felt was on its way. Despite his own tension, he noted the curve of Nerevar's mouth as he added, "At the very least, come up with a good story for me."

Vivec swallowed, eyes darting between Alandro and Nerevar. "Like I said when we came in, the slums are where the most truths are," he said. "I was looking for information, no place is more honest than a skooma den when you have enough gold on you." He hesitated before adding, "I knew you three wouldn't want to go there. It's better that you don't, really; optics are everything, and whispers of a drug-addled mind only work for philosophers, not warriors." He tapped his thumb against his knee, a nervous gesture. "But I can be anything; I have no house to shame and no people to lead. So…I thought I was the best one of us to go out, and that it was better I do it sooner rather than later."

"Yes, but what did you find?" Nerevar repeated, leaning forward. "You haven't said that."

Vivec swallowed. "Desperation. Allies. People who will…" As Nerevar raised his eyebrows, he let out a bitter sigh. "I…didn't find anything. Just as I started talking with the owner of a skooma den was when the Nords arrived."

Alandro scoffed. "Of course you didn't. You were too busy play-acting the hero to really do anything worthwhile." This time, Vivec didn't argue, and Nerevar didn't immediately step in. Alandro looked between them both, then gave a sigh as he went to drop into the last open seat between them. "Here's the thing, Vivec. You're…" His star-bright eyes glanced to Nerevar, and he frowned slightly; he was trying to edit, Vehk could tell, a very hard thing to do before the words are out. "You're…getting ahead of yourself. You can fight–I wouldn't have let you stay if you couldn't, no matter what Neht said–but you put so much of your energy into…into the nonsense you write…"

"People will need accounts of this when we drive out the Nords," Vivec said firmly.

"And we might not."

Nerevar looked up at that, eyes wide. "We will. I know–"

"Yes, yes, Azura will guide us to victory," Alandro finished, waving his hand. "But the fact of war is that there's a winning side and a losing side. We have everything against us now–we don't even have the support of all the Chimer Houses–and logistically, losing is a very real possibility." His mouth pressed into a thin line, but he shook his head. "So your head needs to be here, Vivec. That means following orders, even if you think you know better." He waved toward the door Voryn and Sil had left through. "You put one of our own in danger, one who isn't ready for what we do."

"I didn't mean–"

"But you did. If we were a real battalion, that would get you punished far worse than a lecture. I'd dismiss you outright." He huffed as he sat back. "But we don't have the manpower for that. So if you want to help us succeed, it's time to get your head out of the clouds and be the warrior you've been trained to be."

Vivec stared at Alandro in baleful silence, then glanced to Nerevar. He wasn't looking at him; his hand covered his mouth, and his eyes were far away beneath drawn brows. No point in trying to appeal there; that look meant that Neht likely hadn't heard a word Alandro had said. Vivec started to open his mouth, but, for once, thought better of what he was about to say.

After a long silence, Alandro pushed himself back up to his feet with a sigh. "Look. Take this as a lesson–one that could have been much more painful. But it should be one of your last; you're getting too old to make mistakes like this."

There were times, Vivec knew, that a chiding should be left as is, without any argument. This was absolutely one of those times. So, with a resigned sigh, he got to his feet, thanked Alandro for his wisdom, and made his way out.

"You're brooding so loudly, Vehk."

"I'm not brooding."

"You are. My sister did exactly what you're doing whenever she got in trouble." Sil looked over his shoulder. "It's brooding."

Vivec sighed, getting up to pace around the room. They'd been set up in the family's library, with strict instructions to stay put and a plan in place to hide if anyone came in. While Vivec felt like he was minutes away from crawling out of his skin over their imprisonment (because that's what it was), Sil couldn't be less bothered. He'd taken advantage of the library's desk–fitted with a hands-free magnifying glass that could be adjusted–and laid out the remains of his spider, looking over each gear and metal bit curiously. He'd methodically push pieces together, then set them in different piles before making a note. It'd be fascinating to watch, if Vivec was in a better mood.

"So I'm going to guess that you aren't supposed to have those tools," Vivec said, leaning against a bookshelf. Sil stiffened for a moment, pausing in his sorting. "Why did you take them?"

Sil hesitated before glancing up. "I wanted to learn how to make the things they did," he said. "There wasn't time to really watch them, and the architect we were talking with said it'd take years for me to learn anyway." He shrugged, pushing a gear back and forth. "We don't have years, and I thought I could…I could figure it out on my own." He sighed. "But it doesn't matter now that the Nords have my bag. Not that they'd know what to do with them anyway." He let out a quiet, irritated noise. "But now I can't do anything with this."

"There's a lesson here. Something about actions having consequences and risks." Vivec grimaced as soon as the words left his mouth. "Suppose we've both learned that one." He dropped into one of the seats, head falling back. "We're prisoners, Seht. From our own friends, no less."

Sil's lip twitched. "You really are like Nall," he said quietly, returning to his gears. "It's just a little punishment. Once, just a few months ago, she and I snuck out to…"

He was cut off as the door to the library opened. Both of them started to get up to hide, but it was only Voryn, a plain brown bag gripped in his hand. He gestured for them to stay put as he shut the door behind him.

"The Nords have been taken care of. It'll be wise to stay here for at least another day, but you won't need to worry next time you go out," he said simply, then tossed the bag to Vivec, who was closer. "I found your bag as well, though you'll have to make sure everything's still in it.

I don't think they had time to pawn anything off, but it's not unlike Nords to toss out anything they deem unimportant." He glanced between the two of them. "I hope it's already been made clear that something like this can't happen again."

"Abundantly," Vivec said dryly. He let out a sigh, slumping in the seat before reluctantly adding, "Thank you, Voryn."

Voryn let out a breath, crossing his arms. "Much as I hate admitting it, we are kin in a sense. What the Nords did was unacceptable, and I'd sooner have tea with Molag Bal than let that go unpunished." He gave his head a little shake, then swept back out.

Vivec got to his feet, walking Sil's bag over to him. He set the bag on the table, then frowned slightly as he looked at the strap. "Looks like you might've bled onto it. Luckily, I've gotten very good at getting battle stains out of everything, and we've nothing better to do."

Sil was already pulling out tools and methodically setting them on the table–no doubt taking inventory–but he paused to frown at Vivec. "Not my blood. They took the bag before they punched me."

Vivec looked up at him, then back to the bag. "Well. That seems like a story."

Cleaning Seht's bag was an excellent excuse for leaving, and Vehk's unfamiliarity with the home an excellent excuse to look around as he pleased. Not that he was really at risk of running into someone at this hour; the household seemed to be settling down for the night. Still, much better safe than sorry.

He caught a few snippets of conversation as he passed doors–he stayed to listen to a few, like the friendly argument between the couple who owned the place and some gossip among the servants. Nothing that pertinent, but indescribably alive.

Finally, feeling suitably refreshed after such a disappointing day, Vivec decided that he probably should actually get the bag cleaned. He started searching for a washroom in earnest, only to pause as he overheard a conversation. Two men, in hushed voices. That could be…

"One of the Nords survived, you know." Ah, Nerevar. So then the other voice…

"Oh? How lucky for him. How did you hear about something like that?" There, that was Voryn. But what about Nords?

Vivec pressed up against the wall, listening keenly as Nerevar sighed. "I went to go file a report, if you would believe it. Just following up on the one you said you'd filed." He was silent for a long moment. There was a hole in the door, hence why their voices were so clear, and Vivec peeked his eye in. Neither mer noticed him; Voryn, clad in a dressing gown, was completely nonplussed as he laid out on a sofa, while Nerevar, still in his armor, fiddled with a knife.

"Said it was a devil that did it," he said. Voryn gave a smooth shrug.

"They call all of us devils. That hardly narrows things down."

"And I'd be inclined to think so, if the guard he was speaking to didn't mention that it looked remarkably like what the so-called Devil of Dagoth did in Askvall a few years ago. Her sister had been there! She could never forget the description of it." Nerevar leveled a cool stare at Voryn, who met it without flinching. "That was unnecessary, Voryn."

"Was it? Would you have said the same if Sil and Vivec hadn't made their getaway? You know how we would have found them…well, what was left of them." Voryn sat up. "It's getting worse. A few skirmishes here and there aren't helping. We need to act, f'lah."

Vivec's surprise at hearing an endearment come from Voryn's mouth was quickly dispelled by the explosive sigh that came from Nerevar and the clattering of the knife onto a table. But no words followed; he simply stood, shoulders stiff and lost in thought.

Voryn shifted in his seat, then pushed himself up. "I know you want to go about this the 'right' way," he said as he walked over, arms clasped together. "Gain the approval of the houses, march forward as Hortator."

"You're the one who suggested that," Nerevar mumbled.

"And I stand by it. But…" Voryn sighed, looking up. "It's hard to explain, since you haven't grown up with it. But Hortators are appointed in times of crisis."

"Is this not a crisis?"

"It is, but for a great deal of us, this…" Voryn waved vaguely around them. "It's normal now. Things have been bad so long that we…we hardly know what good is." He looked back to Nerevar, face the softest Vehk had ever seen. "I saw good in you, the moment we met. I saw someone who, insane as he sounded, might actually be able to pull off something as mad as getting Resdayn back. The others have seen the same; everyone who meets you sees the same." He sighed. "But I think that may have been your downfall."

Nerevar looked up, frowning. "What do you mean?"

"Well, look at what Vivec writes." Vivec cringed, bracing himself. "Azura-blessed, shining moon-and–star, Veloth's truest son…he paints you as a hero. It's the writings of a boy who believes you can do no wrong. And now, I think, you're afraid to do any wrong because of it, lest you let him–and everyone else–down." Voryn sighed. "And because of it, we've all hit a wall."

Nerevar was quiet for a very, very long time. Voryn stayed where he was, equally silent. Finally, Neht looked up at him.

"So what do you suggest we do, f'lah?" he asked quietly.

"The way I see it, we have two options before us. We could stay as we are, goading at small groups of Nords when we can, hoping they instigate something large enough to warrant a Hortator."

"Or…?"

Voryn shrugged. "Reach heaven by violence."

Nerevar blanched, and he rubbed his face as Voryn continued, "It was the original plan, if you recall."

"Yes, I recall. But…"

"But it's not honorable," Voryn finished. "Revolution isn't honorable, Nerevar. It's cruel and harsh and you're going to have to get your hands very dirty. We all are." As Nerevar's silence stretched on, he added, "I'll still be with you, no matter which way you choose to go. So will Alandro. So will Vivec, despite his scribblings. But ultimately, Nerevar, you're the one who must give the command." His hand reached out, lightly resting on Nerevar's shoulder. After a moment, Neht's broad hand covered it, giving it a pat.

"Thank you, Voryn," he says quietly. "You…you're very good at making me think."

Finally a small smile eked out of Voryn. "Well, someone certainly needs to. Not everything can be solved with a greatsword and pretty words." He paused, thumb brushing over Nerevar's shoulder. "I'll leave you to dream for now. When you have a way forward, let me know."

A wave of Voryn's free hand doused the light, and Vivec's line of vision went black. He sat back, taking a moment to soak the conversation in.

As much as he hated people speaking for him, Voryn was right. He would stand with Nerevar, whatever path he chose. He'd seen the good in him as well, and he knew as well as anyone that, on occasion, being good entailed doing awful, awful things. Things he would have never dreamed he'd do.

Tomorrow, then, would no doubt be the turning point. And, much as Vivec tried to stay cool on the way back to the library, his mind was roiling with thoughts of where the story would lead from here.