Nalice could not believe her luck. A hurricane- natural or magical- had nearly wrecked the Prowler. AGAIN. As it pulled into the harbor of the Vulkhel Guard, Nalice could only look over her bedraggled companions.
There was Mirri, her greatest friend and closest to her heart. A reasonable dunmer with a good heart and a love of exploration, the two mixed together like frost mirriam, berverz juice and perfect roe. Mirri was good with jewels, dwarven technology, and daedric knowledge. She would make a great scholar, if she ever decided to settle down. She wasn't the type to stay in one place, however. That made making friends hard.
Which is why it was so good that Nalice also liked moving around a lot.
Firion was a bosmer of good intent, as far as Nalice knew. She'd helped recover Firion's squad on Khenarthi's Roost, and was saddened by the loss of one of them in the battle for Cat's Eye Quay. Not as saddened as Firion was, apparently, because she'd disbanded her squad- Onglorn and Edhelas were absorbed into the crew of the Prowler, replacing sailors lost to the storms and maormer.
Nalice didn't know too much about her, but they'd fought together side by side and they earned her some confidence. The bosmer had enjoyed cooking on the Prowler, and wasn't half bad at it, if her meals weren't a bit too meaty. Having a frontliner- a marine with sword and shield would be of great use in the fights to come, she reckoned.
Then there was Prism.
Prism looked like Mirri, though she'd done her best to adjust her appearance to make them distinguishable. She'd gone for a half-shaven hairstyle- a "Sidelong Sweep" as the barber in Mistral had put it, and darker makeup besides. She was far more playful than Mirri was but otherwise shared the same demeanor and interests- at least, the ones Nalice had known about at the time. She couldn't be interested in things Nalice didn't know Mirri was interested in, after all.
Thinking about that made Nalice's head hurt.
She knew she loved Prism. They had a bond that was unexplainable. They were made from the same essence, the same.. Whatever had been left of Nalice when she'd died. As the very embodiment of Nalice's feelings for Mirri, Prism represented all Nalice had wanted and wished for. That included very strong reciprocation, and so Prism had popped into existence loving Nalice right back.
The question of whether Prism had a choice in the matter made Nalice's heart hurt.
She was definitely her own individual. If they had been one being before, now they were two different people, and Prism seemed intent on making herself distinguishable from Mirri as much as she could without losing sight of who she was. Or who she had been created to be. Prism didn't seem to mind much the circumstances of her existence, never questioning it, but Nalice did. Why were they solid?
If Mirri buried Nalice's body, what was holding onto the mast of the Prowler as it docked? It certainly wasn't a soul made flesh- Molag Bal had her soul. Did Prism have a soul? Could she?
"You look like you're about to burst a vein there, tiger. Come back to Tamriel." Mirri said, rubbing Nalice's shoulder. Nalice sighed and smiled, offering a witty repertoire when-
"Ship's docked, everyone off!" someone yelled, and with a cheer the mass of passengers and sailors moved onto the wooden planks that lead into the sands and streets of Vulkhel Guard.
"Razum-dar said we should check in with the Watch Captain Astanya," Firion said. "That seems like a good point of entry for us. Any objections?" She asked. There were none, so the trio of dunmer followed the bosmer up the beach and into the city, asking for Astanya. They were pointed to a tall, pretty, and adventurous altmer who was going over a docket.
"Fair day." She greeted Firion, eyeing the dunmer with suspicion. "I'm the Watch Captain. With the Queen in town we need to see to extra security preparations." She said. "Thank you for checking in with me. Where are you traveling from?"
"Khenarthi's Roost," said Nalice, giving the tall altmer her best winning smile. "Razum-dar sent us, he said he was an old friend of yours?"
"Ha! He's got an active imagination, that one. We've drawn blades together and drank together, and even- well, but I'm not sure I'd call him a friend. We may have been close once, but he's.." Astanya looked genuinely puzzled as she reflected on her relationship with Raz. "Did he tell you he's signed up with the Queen?"
"..no?" Firion said.
"Of course he didn't, he's always playing his cards like he's got something to hide. Razum-dar works directly for the Queen. Hush hush cloak and dagger stuff. Thieves and spies, the lot of them." Astanya looked displeased.
Prism leaned over to Nalice, whispering. "I think she doesn't like him." Nalice nodded in agreement.
Firion pushed forward, asking. "The Queen's in town, then?"
"Yes, she's going to be giving a speech. Talking up the unity of the Dominion. Not all the altmer are fans of the alliance yet, to say the least." Astanya curled her lip. "And your companions?"
Firion blinked, looking at the trio of dunmer. "What about them?"
"They're not of the Dominion." Astanya said pointedly. "They could be enemy spies."
"What? No, I- I vouch for their trustworthiness. They saved Khenarthi's Roost and aided the Dominion! They may be dark elves, but as far as I'm concerned, they're good elves." Firion folded her arms.
"...very well." Astanya said, relenting, but reached into her pack. "Here. These are brooches, normally used for our uniforms. Put them on your dunmer so people will see they are Dominion allies." She said, holding out three eagle-istic brooches.
The trio of dunmer took them. Nalice attached hers right to her cloak, replacing her old coin brooch. Mirri put hers on her leather bodice like a badge, and Prism wore hers in the shaved hair of her head.
"There. As long as you wear these brooches, no one should bother you for being dunmer." Astanya said. "Now move along, we're quite busy."
"Oh. Is there anything we can do to help?" asked Firion.
"Nothing for friends of Razum-dar." Astanya said pointedly. "Go on, move along."
As they hustled into the city proper, Mirri leaned into Nalice. "Do you really think these brooches are going to keep us out of trouble?"
"At least here, at least for now." Nalice replied. "Seemed like a good idea anyways, if we don't want to get harassed for being in enemy lands."
"We're not your enemy." Firion insisted. "Come on, the Salted Wings has really good chicken and I'm hungry, so let's grab lunch. I want to eat!"
As the party headed for the inn, Prism and Nalice were stopped by an ethereal image of the Prophet appearing before them, blue and translucent, halting their walk as the others kept going.
"Hey, why'd you stop?" asked Mirri, staring right through the image of the prophet as if he wasn't there.
"Vestige. Prism." said the Prophet. "We must speak."