Captain Veleth paced back and forth before their table at the Retching Netch, his head bowed, his solemn red eyes gazing somewhere far away from their gathering. Nervyna watched him from her place at the table for a few moments, before her attention turned to the others present. Elder Othreloth still had a look on his face like he'd tasted a bad batch of scrib jelly, while Second Councilor Arano had a look of bone-deep weariness in his sunken eyes. Nobody seemed willing to speak, and those few moments passed in silence, save for the sound of the troops standing guard outside the cornerclub. This was one of the only other secure places in Raven Rock left, after the barracks had taken a stray hit from one of the giant statue's fire rays.

Elder Othreloth spoke first, addressing Veleth but glaring at Nervyna. "You know what is morally right and what is not, captain. These heretics are a threat to our society and must be executed!"

"Absolutely not," Nervyna growled, snapping at him. "You can't just put them all to the sword indiscriminately."

"We most certainly can!" the priest retorted. "They would have done the same to us if we hadn't stopped them! The Temple will take weeks to repair, to say nothing of Raven Rock!" Even without being the local leader of the Temple, Elder Othreloth had plenty of reason to be upset; he had barely survived a falling piece of masonry after an errant explosion had damaged the ceiling of the Temple, where he had been hiding during the battle.

"They weren't all acting of their own will," Nervyna answered sternly. She recalled Vesparth quietly filling her in on what she had seen in Ashfall's Tear while stealing the forge gem, trusting the Armiger on her word regarding the disposition of the priestly militia. "Many of those in the Tribunal ranks served under duress; those who refused to follow their Lady would have been killed on the spot. That's why you got a surrender out of them so quickly."

"They surrendered because you showed them the severed head of their goddess!"

At last, Captain Veleth fell back to the table from his ambling, laying his hands on the worn and beaten surface, resting his gaze upon the others in the gathering. The bruised and scraped visage he presented made him seem older than his years as he passed his dour, red gaze upon them. "I must admit that the thought of executing all those heretics doesn't sit right with me either, Elder. You didn't see the hopeless look on their priests' faces; I know the look of impressed soldiery when I see them."

"They committed treason," reminded Second Councilor Arano, rubbing his temples. A bandage was wrapped around his head; he had taken a nasty fall while escorting Councilor Morvayn to safety. The Councilor had also been injured and was being tended to now, leaving Arano to join their discussion in his stead. "I must remind you that it is the law to punish heretics in Morrowind. Moreover, they killed men of the Redoran Guard and threatened innocent lives."

"They didn't ask for this either," Nervyna uttered, glaring at them. "They were fooled, all of them. None of them knew what was being planned until it was too late."

"That does not excuse them from their part in this catastrophe!" Elder Othreloth stabbed a finger at her, snarling. "Nor does it excuse you! You had a hand in this madness, Dragonborn. I say, you ought to be punished as well!"

The Dragonborn's scowl deepened, her dead eye taking on a ghastly spectral glow. She said nothing, only allowed her withering glare to bore into the old priest. Elder Othreloth lost his nerve under that draconic gaze, looking away quickly with a hard swallow.

Arano shook his head with a sigh. "While the law might agree with you, Elder, I doubt putting it into practice is in our best interest. The Dragonborn single-handedly helped bring Raven Rock from the brink of collapse and ended numerous threats to the settlement."

"And I doubt she intended any of this to happen," Captain Veleth added, giving her a respectful nod. "I believe her story; she did what she did to try and save lives. I'm not willing to blame her for being misled."

"And she did save us all," Arano murmured, eyeing the dark bloodstain on the floor nearby where Almalexia's corpse once laid. "We owe more to her than she owes us. I believe the law may need to bend today, in more ways than one."

Elder Othreloth's mouth grew taut, flinty eyes smoldering. "These heretics cannot go unpunished. This is more than just following Reclamation Temple law, this is justice."

"Executing every single one of them indiscriminately is not justice," Nervyna uttered. "It's cruelty."

Captain Veleth rubbed the bridge of his nose. He suddenly spoke, his voice full of conviction: "Speaking plainly, seras, I never cared much about chasing heretics. If they'd been content to sit in their cave and be quiet about it, things might be different. But they did come here to declare war on us, and I've a lot of dead and injured men and citizens to deal with because of them. That can't go unpunished." He turned to give Nervyna a serious look.

Nervyna nodded, bowing her head solemnly. "I know. I'm not saying the heretics shouldn't be dealt with. But they don't all deserve to have their heads cut off. The ones who deserve mercy should be given it; the rest deserve the sword, and I'm pretty damn sure they'll be glad to give up their lives anyway." She had seen some of the Tribunal prisoners, especially the Ordinators, begging for death from their captors. Their goddess was dead, and thus they no longer saw purpose in their own existences. It was an alien way of thinking to Nervyna. She almost pitied them for it. Almost.

"Exile, then." It was Arano who spoke, raising his head at last. There was a soul-deep lassitude within the depths of his bleary eyes. "Round them all up. See which of them will repent. Those who don't will be sent to the chopping block. The others will be put on the next longship heading out of Solstheim. Can you manage that, Captain?"

Captain Veleth made a displeased face. "It'll take time. But yes, I think we can sort this out. Should be a longship or two that can take them to Skyrim. Might take a few days to make ready for the journey, however."

"Very well. And you, Dragonborn—"

"I'll go with them."

Arano looked taken aback. "What?"

"To Skyrim," Nervyna repeated, "I'll go with the heretics."

"Are you sure?" Captain Veleth stood upright. To say there was a pleading quality in his voice would have been an insult to the dignified captain. But it came close.

Nervyna nodded, bowing her head solemnly. "I'm sure. I feel responsible for this. I should go with them to make sure there's no trouble. Besides, I have no business left to attend here on Solstheim. You won't hear back from me for a long while."

A silence followed, one which only Elder Othreloth deigned to interrupt with a harrumph. "The Tribunal comes here seeking to destroy us all and nearly succeed, and all they get is exile. I see this as an outrage, but I suppose I am to be overruled."

Arano studied the woman for another few seconds, before nodding. "It's settled, then. Captain, get your men to sort out the prisoners and arrange for the longships to ferry the rest to Skyrim with the Dragonborn. This meeting is adjourned."

The next couple of days were difficult to stand. Veleth's men were working over the prisoners for any repenters, but Nervyna insisted on being present at the interrogations. She did not trust the Redoran Guard to be fair, nor did she blame them for their hard feelings. Still, she hoped that her presence – the one who had slain Almalexia – would convince some of the Tribunal heretics to abandon their cause and repent, if only to spare further bloodshed. It was a bitter way to go about it, demanding repentance with the executioner's axe hanging overhead. But Nervyna could do little about that, save for attempting to soften the blow for the Tribunal prisoners.

She could not say if her efforts yielded fruit. The priestly militia that came before them were easy to convince to repent; these were sent off to join up with the other penitents, waiting under guard until the longships to take them to Windhelm finished their preparations. Other prisoners, in particular the Tribunal Ordinators, seemed to only have loathing left in them. Nervyna tried to spare them, tried to convince them that they had more to their lives than the Tribunal. But they did not repent, declaring that their Lady could never truly die, that their service to the dead goddess was unending. Those were sent to the executioner's block, where a Redoran headsman awaited with a large axe.

As Nervyna presided over the interrogations, she felt a cold anger growing deep within her. For the two days that they lasted, she rarely spoke to anybody and kept to herself. On the final day, after the last of the prisoners had been taken care of, she retreated into Raven Rock away from the commotion of guards and heretics. She passed by the waiting throngs of prisoners huddled close together near the central plaza, waiting for the impending call to move onto the longships moored to the docks. The Dunmer passed Redoran Guards and haggard-looking townsfolk until she found the stone steps leading up to the Temple. The roof had nearly collapsed from whatever stray explosion had rocked it. Chips in the nearby basalt columns and holes in the domed roof suggested a shrapnel spray. This place was quiet and empty, utterly abandoned; the clergymen were all either being tended to whatever wounds they'd acquired from the impact to the temple, or tending to the structure from within.

Nervyna had no interest in going inside. She was interested only in the peaceful quiet, the solitude, and in the vantage point she had here; from the top of the stairs, in the Temple courtyard, she could look down upon Raven Rock and see the extent of the damage done to it. The Dunmer came to lean on a railing near an incomplete statue of the Reclamations, her brooding gaze roaming over the town. Isolated fires had burned for hours in the aftermath of the battle. They had all been put out by now, but the air still smelled of smoke. Houses were scorched, roofs were holed, and the streets were pockmarked by craters in places where destruction spells or fire atronachs had exploded.

A quiet presence slid into place beside her. Nervyna glanced over to see Vesparth leaning against the railing. The Armiger stared out at the destruction with a grim look before shaking her head. "It could've been a lot worse. A lot worse."

"It can always be worse." Nervyna was aware of how her voice rasped. She hadn't spoken much in the past two days; her throat still felt raw from all her Shouting. She glanced over at the other Dunmer's missing hand, felt a stab of guilt at the healed-over stump of a wrist that remained. "How are you doing, Vesparth?"

"Just fine. Kind of miss my Cleaver, though. Oh. And my hand, I guess." The Armiger's axe had been confiscated, rendering her unarmed. She had still been given freedom to walk alone due to Nervyna's fierce vouching for her.

Vesparth turned her attention to her, a humorless smile twisting her lips. "But I think I should be the one asking if you're okay."

Nervyna glowered down at the town, at the destruction that had been wrought. Her hand slowly clenched itself into a hard fist. "I failed."

Vesparth arched an eyebrow. "What do you mean? You won, Vyna. Almalexia's dead, Raven Rock's still standing."

"Does this look like victory to you?" Nervyna raised her chin, pointing it at the damaged town below. Her mismatched eyes burned with a quiet, self-directed fury. "I wanted to prevent another religious purging. I wanted to stop any bloodshed before it could take form. Head off conflict before it could hurt anybody."

She gave a harsh grunt and turned away from the sight of the destroyed town. "I should have put the pieces together sooner. I should have realized something was wrong ever since I looked at that damned statue and saw soul energy in it. But now half the Redoran Guard is dead, Raven Rock's been scarred, and half the Tribunal temple is dead – the other half fated to exile." Then, after a moment of silence, in a harsher whisper: "I tried to save them, Vesparth."

"You did your best." Vesparth spoke softly, seriously. Her usual smile was gone, replaced by a frown. Concern shimmered in her dark red eyes. "You couldn't have known what was gonna happen. Nobody could have told you what Drevlan was planning. She kept her plans secret even from her trusted champions."

Nervyna remained silent, unable to meet her gaze or look back at the battle-scarred town. Vesparth took the opportunity to come closer and lean against the railing next to her. "It's shitty, I know. But this isn't the end. Not for us heretics, and not for Raven Rock. The town will survive this." Even now, the sound of hammers and wood saws at work emanated from the town. Workers were already at the task of rebuilding what had been broken. The promised Redoran reinforcements and supply barges from the mainland were said to be arriving before the year's end, too.

"What happens to the heretics?" murmured Nervyna, still unable to look at her. "What will you do when we reach Skyrim?"

"Not sure about that yet." Vesparth shrugged, tugging thoughtfully at a braid of blonde hair. "Windhelm isn't a great place for us. The Grey Quarter might take in a few more refugees, but I'm not keen on keeping our folk there, where the Nords can get uppity with us."

Nervyna shook her head. "Jarl Ulfric doesn't give a skeever's arse about Dunmer. Your people are better off going further west."

"Mhmm. I was thinking maybe we could go to High Rock. There's no war there, no dragons either, and the Bretons are basically half elf themselves; maybe they won't mind some Dunmer showing up looking for a place to live in peace and quiet."

"I suppose." Nervyna had never been to High Rock, so she could not speak about the land. "Wherever you go, your people will follow. You're the only leadership they have left."

"I know. It's intimidating to think about." Vesparth shook her head with a rueful smile. "Me, the Armiger who likes cracking jokes and drinking beer, the new leader of the Tribunal Temple. Never would have gotten that kind of promotion without everyone else in the chain of command dying. I dunno if I can handle that kind of responsibility, Vyna."

"You must." Now, it was Nervyna's turn to lay a hand on Vesparth's shoulder. "I believe you have what it takes to be a proper leader for your lost people. Just follow your heart. Don't give in to zealotry."

"And don't try to chase remnants of divine power to resurrect a god." Vesparth smiled ruefully.

The mercenary nodded. "I suppose in that respect, you can hardly do worse than Drevlan."

"Yeah. Guess so. We'll probably just worship them as saints and leave it at that. Might be a good middle ground, after all the hardliners let the executioner take their heads." Vesparth nodded to herself. She looked down suddenly at her stump of a hand, turning it over this way and that.

"Does it hurt?" Nervyna asked, glancing at it again.

"Stings a bit. Itches sometimes. But I'll live." The Armiger shrugged. "I was wondering what I could do with it. Maybe I'll get an iron hand. Or stick an axe head on the stub."

Nervyna arched her eyebrow. "You don't seem troubled at having lost a hand."

"I guess after everything that's happened," the Armiger began, studying her wrist stump again, "I started to realize that this kind of shit just happens. You can sulk about it and wallow in the suck, or you can trudge out of it. Like I said, Vyna, it ain't the end of the world. Even if it is kinda shitty."

"Mhm." Nervyna nodded once in agreement. She shifted her weight against the railing, feeling the hilt of her sword bump against her hip. Trueflame's eternal enchanted flames were silent for now; she was fortunate to know a spell to dampen the enchantment until she found a suitable sheath that could contain its magic. After a moment's consideration, the Dunmer patted it. "Trueflame served well, but it doesn't belong to me. When we get to Windhelm and away from all these Redorans, I'll be glad to give it to you for safekeeping."

Vesparth eyed the enchanted blade for several long seconds. Slowly, the Armiger shook her head. "Nah, Vyna. You keep it."

"Are you sure?" Nervyna arched her eyebrow incredulously. "It's a priceless Tribunal artifact."

"Yeah. I'm sure. You earned that blade. I can't think of anybody more worthy than you to wield it." A familiar smirk flashed across Vesparth's features. "Besides, I'm more of an axe girl. I'll be getting my Cleaver back when we land in Skyrim, so I won't be unarmed – oh, sorry, weaponless , for long."

The mercenary took this in without visibly reacting at first. She looked down at the elegant curved blade sheathed at her hip, admiring the craftsmanship it displayed. Her specialty was in two-handed blades, but Trueflame would make for a highly capable sidearm until she had a replacement. At length, the Dunmer nodded slowly, solemnly. "Alright. Thank you, Vesparth."

At dawn the next day, the longships were ready. Redoran guards ushered the Tribunal prisoners toward the docks. The prisoners shuffled out of their waiting areas, huddled together, unwilling to be parted from their fellows. Even despite their helms, there was barely-disguised disgust and anger in the demeanor of the Redoran guards; Captain Veleth maintained a presence to ensure nobody stepped out of line. They would not have done otherwise, however, especially not with the Dragonborn also overseeing the process, making sure the peace was kept.

Two large longships would ferry the remaining Tribunal host across the sea to Skyrim. Nervyna waited for the last of the heretics to make it onto their ships before joining them at the leading vessel. While the rest of the passengers were ushered below decks for the coming journey, Nervyna watched the sailors at work, hearing shouted commands passing between them as they scaled the rigging and let the red-striped sails billow in the wind. The mooring lines were cast off, and soon the ships were sailing off, sleek hulls cutting silently through the still, dark sea.

Nervyna made her way to the rear of the longship, leaning against the gunwale. Raven Rock diminished with the distance, slowly fading into hazy invisibility. Long after the last of the settlement had vanished from her sight, she stared out into the sea, watching the waves being left in their ship's wake. Finally, she closed her eyes, taking in a deep breath and releasing it in a long, drawn-out sigh. Vesparth is right. About everything. It could be much worse.

She had never thought of herself as an optimist. For a mercenary, it paid to be pessimistic, especially if it assured that she would not underestimate the dangers that lay on her path ahead. The weight of her failure still sat heavily in her stomach, a bitter taste left in her mouth. But the alternative would have been catastrophe.

No, this was not ideal. This was not a triumphant victory, if a victory it could be called. But life would go on. Raven Rock would rebuild, as its ebony mine remained intact and reopened. The heretics would have a new, better future with Vesparth as their leader. And I have my destiny to attend to.

Nervyna's attention sharpened as she turned her head south, toward the front of the ship. Toward Skyrim. She felt her burn scars begin to sting again; unlike before, however, the sensation only filled her with renewed determination. The ghosts of the past must be left buried there. The future beckons, now. Alduin must be defeated.

Her hand brushed the Ghartok painted on her chest. No, she had not forgotten her sacred oath. She no longer had any reason to delay her return to Riverwood, and to Delphine who had spent the last two months gathering intelligence and planning their next steps. Raven Rock and the Tribunal Temple would have to take care of themselves. Her part in their stories had ended – now she resumed walking her own path: The path of vengeance. The path of redemption. The path of destiny.

A/N: And that concludes this tale of Nervyna Athram. I hope you've all enjoyed the fanfiction!