"Man is mortal, and doomed to death and failure and loss.

This lies beyond our comprehension - why do you not despair?"

- Spirit of the Daedra

Under a choking layer of gray, the city of Blacklight endured. Children traced their fingers through the ash on colored windows, making shapes to amuse themselves. Stall keepers on street corners cursed the sky and dusted off their wares for the tenth time this morning.

Customers appeared from the mist like ancestor ghosts, pulling down their masks to offer greetings. A trio of harassed-looking mages from the Telvanni enclave slowly worked their way down the manor district, collecting mounds of ash with their telekinesis. Their escort of Redoran Guard followed along, evidently helping in some way.

Blacklight struggled, but Blacklight survived. And if Dunmer were surviving here, the rest of the province might just prevail. She may have stunned Morrowind, but she had not destroyed it. I did what I had to. I'd do it again.

"The Grand Council will see you now, sera," said the Oathman behind her, not unkindly. "But if you're waiting for someone to arrive, I can probably stall the councilors for a while."

"No thanks. I'm fine to go in alone." Nadene absently scratched the back of her head, where the strap of the new eyepatch went through her hair. Her glass armor was lying in some discount armorer's smelting bin; after the trials of Red Mountain and Bal Isra, the pieces had been damaged beyond repair. Nadene wore a simple tunic and trouser, and a short cloak adapted to the warmth in the colors of House Redoran. She followed the Oathman down the passageway.

The Grand Council had granted her a half-day reprieve before this audience, but Nadene had no illusions about what would transpire if she tried to leave the city. The Redoran Guard had escorted her to the Rootspire almost as soon as the Ald'ruhn had docked, and Nadene had not been out of their sight since. I am a prisoner, in all but name. She was finding it to be a far more comfortable title than "Nerevarine."

The reprieve had been for the Grand Council's benefit more likely than not, so they would have time to hear the story Nadene had told the captain of the Ald'ruhn and collect the other relevant facts streaming in from all over Morrowind. Though she doubted Divayth Fyr or Neloth would be showing up to provide their points of view. Especially if the Council made the mistake of ordering their presence. They'd both ignore the message out of spite.

The Rootspire was unusual in how it differed from typical Redoran constructions. The base of the towering structure was an ancient tree, and artificial additions surrounded the trunk in a manner not unlike that of a Telvanni mushroom tower. Nadene hadn't visited Blacklight for over two hundred years, but this place at least had remained much the same. The Rootspire had been around for centuries, if not millenia, born of a time before the words Redoran and Telvanni had any meaning.

"Here you are," the Oathman said. They stood before a remarkably nondescript door, covered in Daedric letters. The Chambers of the Grand Council. "Please enter whenever you're ready."

Well, better get this over with. "Thanks. Have a safe trip down."

Nadene entered the chambers without fanfare. The air smelled of floral incense and kreshweed smoke. She walked to the circular dais in the center of the room, where petitioners to the Grand Council and visiting nobles stood to speak with the five representatives of Morrowind's Great Houses. Nadene looked up and quickly sized up the attending councilors.

Redoran, Telvanni, Indoril, Dres, and Sadras. The only councilor she might have known was from the first House, and the chair on the apex platform stood empty. Nadene knew the next three by reputation and her dealings on Vvardenfell, though she had little idea how the Houses might have evolved in the last decades. Of House Sadras, she knew nothing at all, save that they had taken Hlaalu's position on the Grand Council some time ago.

"This is not proper," spoke the councilor on the House Indoril platform. He was an old, slightly round Dunmer with a bushy beard of black and gray. "Savvu, help me speak reason to Councilor Dremir. We can not begin without a representative of House Redoran present."

"Ifwe do not begin soon," growled the mer on the Dres platform. Scars and colored markings covered every inch of his exposed skin. "We shan't begin at all. Savvu can hold his tongue. As can you, Ornswil. Nerevar was an Indoril. This Othryn woman is a Redoran. If we were to do things properly, neither of your Houses would be present for this trial. You are clearly conflicted."

The Telvanni councilor, Savvu, sat between them. He looked from one to the other with an expression of absolute apathy.

"If beginning without the Redoran gets me out of here quicker," he said, "Then I am in favor."

"Blasphemy! To hold a trial of this magnitude, in the Rootspire, in Blacklight, without the leader of the Grand Council...this is unthinkable. Surely we can find a substitute representative."

Dremir scowled. "None of sufficient rank would arrive in time. As designated Justiciar of Laws, the decision is mine. Let us not forget that the Redoran councilor would be here, if he had not been forced to land his ship near Necrom and continue by guar."

The councilors hadn't taken notice of Nadene entering the chamber, and had been effectively ignoring her since. Now the Dres councilor glared down at her with a cold hatred. Dunmer had long lives, and with them came long grudges. The Nerevarine had been an enemy of House Dres for many long years, ever since she'd taken a hard stance against their slave trade. The practice had long since been outlawed in Morrowind, but the memories had not faded.

"Am I the only sane mer here?" Ornswil shook his head sadly. He turned to the Sadras platform. "And you, Councilor Tolosi? Surely you cannot support this."

The House Sadras councilor had remained silent up until now. She was the only woman on the Grand Council; a pale, short Dunmer with long dark hair spilling over the shoulders of her simple robes.

Tolosi shrugged. "We are all trapped in Blacklight, dear Ornswil, for at least another day. There is little else to do but talk. Let us see what the Nerevarine has to say, and then we will judge her. If she is unsatisfied with our verdict, she will be allowed to request a stay of justice until the Redoran councilor has arrived to vote."

Savvu glanced at his timepiece. "Compromise. Splendid. Let's get on with it, then."

All four councilors stared down at Nadene, now. It was difficult to keep all of them in focus with only one eye, so she chose to look at Tolosi and Ornswil. They seemed to be the ones more likely to side with her. As if it's going to matter.

"Your name is Nadene Othryn," Dremir began.

"Is that a question?"

"No." He frowned and looked down at a sheet of worn parchment. "Born in Cyrodiil. Transferred to Vvardenfell on the orders of Emperor Uriel Septim on the 427th year of the Third Era. An outlander, then. Hmm. You claim to be the Nerevarine, do you?"

"Not a claim." Nadene yawned. "A fact. I was never very happy about it either, pal."

"And you say in your report that Moon-and-Star, the only means of ascertaining your true identity, was destroyed during this supposed battle in the Sixth House citadel. How convenient."

Tolosi interrupted, "Her description does historically match that of the Nerevarine, Dremir."

Ornswil nodded emphatically. "Yes, yes! Just yesterday evening, I passed through a museum in the Arts District. There is a painting there of the Nerevarine. I tell you, Dremir, the figure depicted stands before us now!"

"Very well. Fine." Dremir's lip curled. "So you may be the Nerevarine. No matter. Your crimes remain the same. Over a day ago, a peculiar message began spreading like wildfire from Morrowind's coastal cities. An improbable warning of impending disaster, supposedly from the Nerevarine herself. It is a testament to how fearful the Dunmer have become that so many took this warning to heart so quickly. Ships soared back to their ports. Trade and travel were suspended, and cities pulled citizens behind their walls. And then it happened. The impossible, and the unforgivable. A rogue moon struck the top of Red Mountain. A moon that you summoned!"

"Yup. That was me."

The straightforward admission brought gasps from Ornswil and Tolosi, and even Savvo leaned forward in interest.

Dremir smiled darkly. "So you admit it. You asked Sheogorath to send this rock to strike Morrowind?"

"It was the only sure way of defeating Dagoth Ur." Nadene swallowed. "His plans would have led to Morrowind's ruin. I couldn't let him begin the work of the Sixth House anew."

Ornswil sat back heavily in his chair. "I can scarcely believe my ears. The reincarnation of Indoril Nerevar, consorting with one of the Troubles...by Azura. Maybe Dremir is right."

"Let me remind my fellow councilors," Dremir spoke, "forgetful as they are, that no evidence has been presented to support the ludicrous claim that Dagoth Ur was resurrected again at Red Mountain."

Nadene scoffed. "What sort of evidence do you imagine survived the impact? Everything related to his return was necessarily destroyed. As were Balmora and the Telvanni estates."

"And whose fault is that? Perhaps you should have put more thought into your escape plan before you attacked Morrowind, fetcher."

Tolosi cleared her throat. "Enough bickering, please. I've spoken to the Ashlanders and refugees from Balmora that were teleported on to the Blacklight docks. They were questioned separately, but all of their stories match up. I am inclined to believe Serjo Othryn. Who would know better if the Sharmat returned?"

Savvo added, "Our spellwrights didfind signs of arcane coercion."

Ornswil fanned himself. "Boethiah take me. The Sharmat? Dagoth Ur, truly? I shudder to even imagine it."

"Silence, all of you!" Dremir pointed at Nadene. "I am not concerned with this woman's identity. Nor do I care about the motives behind her actions. I am Justiciar of Laws, and here I see a Dunmer who has confessed to calling down the chaos of Oblivion on to Morrowind. The ash storms alone caused by the impact will harm our trade and crop yields for months to come, if not years. Not to mention that she has rendered Vvardenfell lifeless once again. House Dres calls for justice. Nadene Othryn must be put to death!"

A long silence followed his declaration. The other councilors exchanged uneasy glances.

"By the gods!" Ornswil swayed in distress. "The Temple suffered enough damage when it came to light that the false Tribunal murdered Indoril Nerevar. Years of soul-searching and reformation. Now you want us to execute the Lord Captain's reincarnation? She is Azura's chosen, ring or no ring! The Reclamations will not smile on this course of action."

Savvo sighed. "Not to mention, official executions take weeks to plan, and we all must be present to witness. I'm returning to Port Telvannis as soon as the ash clears."

Tolosi merely watched, offering no immediate comment. Her eyes flickered towards the petitioner's dias, towards Nadene.

"Bah." Dremir was seething. "You weak-willed kwama grubs. We all know you are here as a punishment from your House, Councilor Savvo, but that doesn't give you the right not to participate in the process. And you, Ornswill, you overgrown sycophant...if the Redoran were here, I've no doubt you would be down on your knees kissing their chitin boots. At least it's common knowledge that the Telvanni have no interest in cooperation. House Indoril was once a pillar of Morrowind's strength. How far you have fallen."

Tolosi raised her small hand, calling for silence. "Please, serjos. The Nerevarine deserves swift justice, I agree. But perhaps execution is a step too far. For one, we can't be certain Nerevar won't simply reincarnate again. What kind of punishment would that be? We know this woman Nadene Othryn is the true and present reincarnate. Whether her destructive actions were meant to save Morrowind is not for us to determine. Let history judge her in that respect. As far as the Grand Council's ruling is concerned...I have an alternative punishment in mind."

House Sadras requests that the Nerevarine, Nadene Othryn, be immediately exiled from Morrowind and all of its territories. Tell me, Savvo. What was that number your spellwrights gave us, concerning when Vvardenfell will once more be fit for Dunmer habitation?"

Savvo yawned. "Approximately one thousand years."

"A suitable length of time, I think, for someone who is rumored to be immortal. What say you, Dremir?"

"A thousand year exile…" Dremir's brow furrowed. "Perhaps. But only if we agree that should the Nerevarine appear in Morrowind before that time has elapsed, she will be executed on sight."

"Very well. Then we shall have a vote, as soon as the Redoran councilor has arrived in Blacklight."

Nadene shook her head. "No need. I'll accept any ruling from the present members of the Grand Council."

Ornswil's eyes widened. "Are you sure? House Redoran is one of your greatest allies here, Nerevarine."

Gods, am I tired of hearing that word.

"The girl has spoken," Dremir growled. "All in favor of Nadene Othryn's immediate and total exile from Morrowind and all of its territories, for a period of no less than one thousand years, upon punishment of death should she dare to return before that time."

Three hands went up. Only Ornswil kept his arm down, looking glumly towards the closed door of the chamber.

Tolosi nodded primly. "The Grand Council of Morrowind has rendered its decision, in the sight of mortals and those who are not our ancestors. It is presently the 8th of Sun's Dusk. You will have the remainder of the year to put your affairs in order and make your departure from Morrowind. On the first of Morning Star, your exile status will be made public knowledge and every guard and soldier from here to Narsis will know your face."

"Very well." Nadene bowed her head. "I thank the Grand Council for its merciful judgement." I'll be happy never to see any of these fetchers again.

Nadene left the chamber and was halfway down the passageway when a familiar face entered view. First Councilor Lleril Morvayn looked a wreck. His clothes were drenched in sweat, and even as he stood before her he leaned against the wall to support himself.

"Neverarine," he said between breaths. "Please tell me I'm not too late. Neloth's message only arrived a few hours ago, and travelling through the ash with your guars took-"

"It's fine, Morvayn." Nadene offered him the waterskin from her waist. "I'm just being exiled. For a thousand years."

He nearly spat out the water. "Exiled? A whole millenia...you've done more for Morrowind than any living Dunmer! This is outrageous. Don't move. I'm going to march in there and set them straight."

"No. No. I don't want you to get yourself in trouble over me." Nadene put a gentle hand on his shoulder. She sensed if she breathed too hard on the poor mer, he'd fall to the ground. "I was planning on leaving, anyway. Promise me you won't interfere?"

"I...I don't understand." Morvayn slid down to the floor, his eyes glazed over.

"Don't worry. You'll probably regain a fair bit of your sanity, not having to deal with me anymore." Nadene sat down beside him.

"Where will you go?"

Nadene shrugged. She actually had a pretty good idea, but she didn't want her general whereabouts following her exile to become common knowledge. No doubt there would be some fools trying to find her; bounty hunters, eager to trick the Grand Council and claim rewards, or even fans and well-wishers. I just want to be left alone.

"Morrowind without the Nerevarine…" Morvayn rubbed his face. "Madness. It was that old crow Dremir that decided this, wasn't it?"

"Actually, he wanted me executed. Listen to me, Morvayn. I'm going to need you to help the Ashlanders and Balmorans I rescued from Vvardenfell. I'm giving the former my lands out in Hirstaag Forest. Could you help them get settled? As well as allow the Balmorans to integrate into Raven Rock? I'm sure many of them have kin in the city already. If you need additional gold, there's a fair amount of gold under my house in Firemoth Plaza."

Morvayn nodded numbly.

"Speaking of that house...tell Geldis Sadri it belongs to him. That mer has been sleeping in that tiny room in the Netch for too many years now. The deed is in my bedroom, and the code is 3333."

"I'll...make certain he knows. Are you sure about all this?"

Nadene rose, and offered her hand. "More sure than I've been in two hundred years, Lleril. My time in Morrowind has come to an end." She pulled him to his feet.

"Very well." Morvayn smiled sadly. "I can't help but say that Solstheim will seem much less whole without you around. Believe it or not, your presence in our woods brought my mind a great deal of peace."

"The years I spent on your island were not...totally awful. You've done good work, for the Dunmer. Try to keep it up. You left my guars outside the Rootspire?"

"Yes. Um...goodbye, Nerevarine. Be safe in your travels."

"Have a nice voyage back to Raven Rock." Nadene turned to leave. "And I never told you - my name is Nadene, councilor. Nadene Othryn."

"They're very happy to see us," Gelebor informed her, seconds before the guar's tongue resumed its assault on his face.

"You don't say," Nadene replied, and laughed as Alma jumped between them like an ash hopper. "I never thought I'd see them again." Is it tears on my face, or guar saliva? Does it matter?

Gelebor bent down to slip the rope around Ur's neck. A task easier said than done, particularly when you had only one hand to work with. "Everything went as planned, I assume."

"Yup. Exiled for a thousand years."

He nodded appreciatively. "They must have really enjoyed staring at the top of that damn mountain."

"Well, I might have done more damage than that." Nadene's eye fell to Gelebor's wrapped stump. "Let's not linger on the thought. I'm ready to leave this cursed country behind."

He nodded, looking away.

"Hey." She put a hand on his shoulder. "The vision of the island Falmer that bastard put in your head...you know they were never real, don't you?"

"Yes. I think some part of me always knew." Gelebor grimaced. "Better that they never existed, and so are spared the false fate Dagoth Ur spun for them. Chasing that dream almost made me lose myself. I'm the last Snow Elf. Most likely, I always will be. I've come to terms with that, now. Oh, here." Gelebor handed her a small package. "The maid said this arrived a few days ago, addressed to you."

The markings on the front were in Divayth Fyr's elegant scrawl. Nadene had a feeling she knew what the letter in her hands said, but she opened it just to be sure. She read it several times before slipping it into her cloak.

"Anything interesting?" Gelebor asked, his brow raised.

"We've been invited to be the first residents of the new Tel Fyr. Divayth and his family have already begun living there. He's started cultivating spores for us." Azura's words rang through her head: your tower will rise again.

"Wonderful." Gelebor grinned broadly. "I can't wait."

Some of Nadene's old doubts rose to the surface. "You really mean that? I mean, I won't blame you if you'd rather return to Skyrim-"

He drew her into a kiss, silencing her protests. I really have to stop letting that work on me.

They led the guars out of the Rootspire, the shadow of the tower covering them in darkness. The ash in the sky was already clearing up. Thankfully the weather was still poor enough to keep most Dunmer inside, so they were not accosted as they fastened the small carriage on to the guars and loaded up their supplies.

Nadene drove them down the long streets of Blacklight. The city was a wonder, even seen through an ashy miasma: a delightful mixture of Redoran, Velothi, and even Imperial influences that pleased the eyes and stimulated the senses. Swaying bugshell lanterns passed by their heads, decorated with designs whose meanings had been lost to time. A hundred different scents of kreshweed filled the air as they passed a smoke shop, dizzying Nadene for a moment. The Telvanni enclaves were miraculous little islands of clarity in the sea of ash; the wizards' enchantments scrubbed the street and air around their dwellings. Nadene did her best to commit every sight to memory.

"Look at the stuff." She nudged Gelebor with her shoulder. He had started dozing off almost immediately. "Come on, this is your last chance."

He mumbled something unintelligible and rested his head on her arm. Oh, well. You never really got comfortable in Morrowind, did you? Another reason Nadene was happy to leave it behind.

They reached the port, and found it mostly deserted. The Inner Sea had still not been declared fit for travel, and there wasn't much reason to remain on the docks if no ships were allowed to leave them. That made it relatively simple to find the Khajiit waiting for the carriage's arrival.

"Wake up, Knight-Paladin," Kharjo called out. "You would not want to sleep through your grand adventure." His kittens slept against his chest, in a kreshfibre sling.

Gelebor stirred and stumbled off the carriage. Nadene followed him.

"Sure you won't come with us to Black Marsh?" Nadene asked. "Divayth is offering you a position as captain of his guard. You'd get your own residence tower, of course.

"Khajiit is sadly certain. Lord Fyr is kind to offer, but Renji and Jo'ahni need to walk the sands of Elsweyr. It is what my love would have wanted for them."

Gelebor frowned. "I fear for you, my friend. The Dominion have dug their claws deep into that land. Do you truly think it's safe to return?"

"I will not let the threat of the Thalmor guide my path." Kharjo stroked Renji's head. "Besides, we have survived a cult of Namira and the return of Dagoth Ur. It is difficult to be afraid of uptight Altmer, after what happened on Vvardenfell."

Nadene snorted. "True enough. Still, though. Do you promise to come to us in Black Marsh, if the Dominion comes for your family? I know you won't be able to keep your head down if you see injustice happening. You're a stubborn old cat."

"If Khajiit is forced to flee," Kharjo replied, "he will keep in mind his elven friends."

"I guess I'll have to be satisfied with that. I'm going to miss you, Kharjo. Be careful on your journey. It's a long way to Elsweyr from Blacklight. Spend your gold wisely!" Nadene had imparted to Kharjo most of her worldly fortune, after making a clandestine visit to one of the city's many banks. She had little doubt the Khajiit would have refused the sum, had she offered it plainly instead of privately transferring. It's the least I can do. Without him, we'd all have died somewhere along the way.

Kharjo hugged Gelebor and Nadene once more, and then turned away. He walked to a lone figure at the end of the docks, and appeared to speak for a minute or two. The figure bent its head down close to the kittens in their sling. Then Kharjo bowed his head and made his exit.

"Do you think she's alright?" Gelebor asked, his forehead creased in worry. "That's probably a stupid question, actually."

"Let me talk to her," Nadene said. "Double-check the carriage. Make sure we have enough to make it to Kragenmoor, at least."

She left Gelebor and quietly approached the lone figure.

"Habi?"

Habisinulu turned. Her face was mostly hidden by her cloak, but the healing bruises and cuts were still visible in the gloomy light of the morning. They had festered too long without restoration magic; now, they would have to heal naturally, and painfully, over the course of days or weeks.

"Yeah?" Habi's voice was lifeless. "What do you want?"

"I've asked First Councilor Morvayn to help settle the remaining Ashlanders at a new village on Solstheim," Nadene said carefully.

Habi turned back towards the sea. "Okay."

"Will you...be going with them?"

Habi stiffened. "I don't even know any of those mer. We couldn't be more different."

"You used to tell me you dreamed of meeting other Ashlanders."

"I was a foolish little girl. To think I could become a Redoran Guard...so stupid. I wasn't strong enough...I should have fought them harder. I should have seen what Eola was." She sucked in a sharp breath, fighting to maintain her composure. "Grandmother. Why didn't you tell me?"

"I'm so sorry, Habi." Nadene's head fell. "It was the only way." How many times will I repeat those words, in the decades and centuries to come?

"You destroyed the only home I've ever known. But that's not the worst of it. You made me leave that citadel...you promised me you were coming out. You promised! Kharjo made me teleport away. You were planning on dying in that horrible place. You were going to leave me alone. You were going to abandon me! And then I find out you survived, and we're together again, and you ask if I'm going to go off with some strange group of Dunmer?" Habi's voice cracked. "If you don't want me around, just say it."

"No, no, no." Nadene pulled Habi closer. The two women were of height, but never before had Habi seemed more a child to her. "Of course you can come with us, Habi. Nothing would bring me greater happiness. I just didn't know if you were ready to leave Morrowind behind. You've never lived anywhere else."

"Vvardenfell is gone." Habi wiped her face. "Everything I see in this city just reminds me of what I've lost. Maybe Black Marsh will be the same. I don't know. I just...don't want to feel this way anymore."

"Okay," Nadene said soothingly. "I know how you feel. Look, Gelebor's got the carriage ready. Let me introduce you to my guars…"

Three elves and two guars journeyed down the western border of Morrowind, with no particular haste. The ash on the roads made for slow travel, even with the carriage, and many days remained until the Grand Council's ruling came into effect. They rode past Cormaris but spent the night in Selethis, enjoying a hearty meal provided by the city council in honor of the Nerevarine's visit. Gelebor seemed to enjoy the indulgence, but Habi smiled little and scarcely touched food. Nadene watched her closely, worrying and thinking.

A month had passed before they reached Kragenmoor. This brought them worryingly close to the Grand Council's deadline, but Nadene didn't let it bother her. She led the carriage past the entrance to the city. Kragenmoor was a House Dres settlement to its roots; even without the threat of execution nearing, Nadene would not have let them spend the night there. Habi seemed relieved, in any case. She had seemed to improve during their days living on the road, out of sight of other Dunmer, with just Gelebor and the guars to keep them company. A pleasant sign for our future at Tel Fyr.

It was the 31st of Evening Star when they finally rolled into the border city of Narsis. The last day of the year, the day of the Old Life Festival, and the eve of the Nerevarine's one thousand year exile. They left the guars in the care of a well-tipped stablemaster and made their way down the street. This city had reportedly dwindled in wealth since House Hlaalu's downfall and the Empire's withdrawal, but there was little sign of that from the bands of Dunmer merrily streaming from tavern to tavern and the cheerful music filling the air.

"Free ale on Old Life Day," Nadene said. "Shall we?"

The tavern was smokey and near filled to the brim, but they found a small table in the corner and bought a large jar of sujamma.

"To our last night in Morrowind." Nadene raised her cup. "Let it be a happy one."

They drained their cups. Gelebor's eyes brightened, and even Habi perked up a little.

"It's a fucking miracle I survived this place," Nadene said. She had discreetly cast a spell to muffle the roar of the other patrons. "From that first step on to the Seyda Neen docks, I thought I was a goner."

"I'm glad you were wrong." Gelebor poured himself more sujamma. "My life would have turned out far duller, had I never come to work for you."

"You might still have your left arm beneath the elbow," Nadene pointed out glumly.

He balanced his cup at the end of the stump and gracefully brought it to his lips. "A small price to pay, some would say. I'm happy to be where I am."

"Always so composed. Every movement so...deliberate. From the moment I met you."

Habi cleared her throat. "I'm gonna go get another drink."

"You sure?" Nadene's eye followed her. "You don't have to leave."

"No, it's okay." Habi smiled. "I'm okay. You two have fun."

They followed her advice. The light coming through the tavern windows dwindled, and the jars of sujamma collected in the center of the table as the night marched onward. Gelebor ordered a basket of roasted nuts and amused Nadene by tossing them in the air and catching them in his mouth. She laughed much too loudly.

"I'm not completely certain," Gelebor said, sometime later. "But I'm pretty sure midnight has passed. You're officially breaking the law by remaining in this city, Nadene Othryn."

"I entered this blighted province as a criminal. Might as well leave it as one." Nadene traced the rim of her cup with one finger. "Are you going to turn me in, Knight-Paladin?"

"My sense of justice demands it." Gelebor leaned forward, his eyes cool and focused. "You'd better come with me, miss Othryn."

"Mmm. Tell me again, in Falmeris."

Gelebor paused for a moment, collecting his thoughts. Then he spoke: a strange series of sounds, exotic and beautiful. It sounded almost like a song to her. She replied with her own foreign tongue.

"What's that? Not Dunmeris. I'm nearly fluent, these days."

"Akaviri. I'll tell you about them, on the road." She reached for his hand.

Nadene tossed the barkeep a handful of coins, not looking where they landed, and sought out the nearest empty room. On the way she spotted Habi, laughing drunkenly with a few other young Dunmer. The sight gladdened her heart. She pushed Gelebor inside.

He gently took off Nadene's eyepatch and set it on the armoire, then ran his hand through her hair.

"I love you," Gelebor said.

"I love you too, endling," Nadene replied breathlessly. "Now show me."

Black Marsh was new for all of them. After they crossed the border, the first town they encountered was not overly different from Narsis, save that Argonians had taken the place of Dunmer. That was the last vestige of familiarity they encountered.

The physical road, already fading, was soon completely consumed by swampland. They hired the services of a river-rider to take them deeper into Black Marsh. The Argonian accepted their gold without a word and said nothing as they sped down the river. Nadene marvelled at the dense shoreline of trees, moss and other strange flora reaching down to brush the water's surface. Small fish jumped from the river, close enough almost to catch in your hands. Beams of sunlight peeked through the thick canopy above. Nadene glanced at Habi and Gelebor and found them in a similar state of wonder.

"No place on Vvardenfell was ever so alive," Habi breathed. "It's amazing. Is Tel Fyr going to be like this?"

"I suppose we'll have to see."

The rider dropped them off at the end of the river, at a small dock that none of the elves would have been able to distinguish from the shoreline around it. He gave them directions to a small village nearby, where his brother could be hired as a guide. No doubt the only one in the area, Nadene thought, thinking it was no coincidence that the river-rider had dropped them off here. But they needed a guide, anyway, and had enough gold. The golden-scaled Argonian they met in the village was named Haraz'k, and he already knew their destination.

"Tel Fyr, yes." Haraz'k counted their money, setting the coins apart with the tip of his claw. "I scouted the land for Divayth Fyr myself. Down near Blackrose. Long journey, from here - sure you want to go there?"

"Absolutely."

Thus followed three long weeks of trekking through wetlands and travelling down rivers. They became close with their guide, telling him of the long road that had taken them to Argonia, and the trials they had endured. Only seldom did they stay in settled places, for Haraz'k seemed to prefer the swamp. At certain points during the trip, he seemed to stop for minutes out of nowhere and shut his eyes.

"What are you listening for?" Habi asked one of the times, curious.

"The Hist speaks to those who care to open their minds." Haraz'k grinned toothily. "You too will learn to hear it, little elf, should you choose to spend your life in the swamps. I do not know how your kind can bear it, living in such dead lands. No one in Black Marsh dies alone, but the ash of Morrowind has no love save for the fire that created it. You are bright, young, full of potential. I think it is good you have come here."

Nadene agreed. By the time they'd reached Blackrose and said their farewells to Haraz'k, Habisinulu was almost seeming herself again. Nadene knew she would never be quite the same; none of them would ever forget the return to Red Mountain, as long as they lived. But it pleased Nadene to see that her granddaughter was learning to take her happiness where she could find it.

On the trail to Tel Fyr, Nadene found herself becoming almost as giddy as a child. Gelebor, walking beside her, took notice.

"Excited, are you?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" Nadene took a deep breath of the wet swamp air. Gods, but it was so alive. "No one in hundreds of leagues knows my name or face. I've been telling myself that Nerevar is dead since Red Mountain, but I'm only starting to believe it now. I can just be myself out here, Gelebor. Just Nadene Othryn, and the people she loves."

Tel Fyr materialized out of the swamplands, a flat clearing of significant size separated from the lakeshore only by a small thicket of trees. The wetland sentinels dwarfed the mushroom tower in the center, the tallest structure in Tel Fyr by far. Other mycelial constructions surrounded it, in various states of growth. A colorful garden covered the perimeter, filled with plants Nadene recognized from Morrowind. The native flora famously defied cultivation; a hurdle that even Divayth Fyr had not yet conquered.

"So this must be the famed Habisunulu!" The mer in question declared, standing up from his work in the soil. A wide gondolier's hat sat upon his head; the arms of his wizard's robes were torn off at the shoulders, and his feet were bare and covered in dirt.

"Yes, sir. I mean, pardon me, Lord Fyr." Habi looked positively awestruck.

"Some young blood will do us good, yes. Too many immortals in Tel Fyr now. Speaking of...we'll need to do something about that eye and arm, my friends. This presents us with a grand opportunity. There's a Dwemer ruin not too far from here. I haven't had the chance to explore it properly yet-"

"Settle down, Divayth!" Athtera appeared from the nearest mushroom, her scaly hands on her hips. "By the Hist, they've only just arrived after what I'm sure was a long journey. Let them take a breath before you go off installing mechanical limbs."

"Ah...you're right, of course." Divayth wiped the sweat from his brow. "Sometimes I forget mortal limitations. I've been counting the days until your arrival, Nadene. What wonderful things we'll do together here, so far from the Empire and the meddling Houses of Morrowind!"

"Good to see you too, Divayth." Nadene offered her arm. "Why don't you show us around?"

Divayth Fyr's eyes widened in excitement.

Hours spent happily, among good friends, went too quickly. Before Nadene knew it, she and Gelebor were settling into their new tower. It was nowhere near the size of her old Solstheim dwelling, but that just made it all the more cozy. Habi had accepted Divayth's offer of her own small tower nearby; he had some half-formed designs of training her to be Tel Fyr's chief guardsman.

Nadene was snuffing out the last lanterns of the night, Gelebor dozing off in the rocking chair beside her, when Divayth came up to their porch with a small bundle in his arms.

"Good evening," Divayth greeted them. "By most criteria, I'd imagine. I was just taking a little stroll. Yes, a little nightly sojourn."

"I see." Nadene exchanged a bemused look with Gelebor. It was unlike Divayth to beat around the comberry bush. "Anything we can get you, Divayth? You probably know this little house better than I do. Tell me where the spirits are, and we can share a nightcap."

"Ah...no thank you. A kind offer, but I came here with a purpose. This is difficult, for some unfathomable reason. It's not like anything I've ever had to do. That's a significant statement, for a mer of millenia."

"Speaking as one of those myself," Gelebor said, "Maybe you should start from the beginning."

"Hmm. The beginning. Always a troubling prospect. Well, I suppose this business began when I collected skin samples from you during your short residence in Tel Mithryn. For my own curiosity, more than any specific intent. Do not worry - the extraction process did no permanent damage."

"I'll...have to take your word on that."

"Have you come to apologize?" Nadene asked crossly.

"Not at all." Divayth uncovered the bundle in his arms, holding it up to the lantern light. "I came to offer you this."

A baby, perhaps only a week old, with skin as pale as milk. Small eyelids fluttered, and little white legs kicked in the air. When the infant opened its eyes, Nadene saw they were a striking shade of gold; a familiar color.

"You cloned him," she exclaimed. "By Azura, you crazy old mer. You created another Snow Elf!"

Gelebor just stared, his mouth slightly open.

"Not an exact clone. Identical individuals will prove troublesome if we're going to try to build a population. I was inspired by my successes with my own daughters, and I noticed how glum you were about this whole Falmer business, Gelebor, so I…" Divayth bit his lip, at an uncharacteristic loss for words. "If neither of you are ready for this, I'm sure I can find a home for her in the Argonian village."

"Her?" Gelebor said quietly. "It's a girl?"

Divayth nodded, ascending the porch steps. "Your daughter. A gift to you, for those wonderful tomes in Falmeris that you provided. To both of you, truly, for saving the world. I know no one else will thank you for it."

He gently passed the child over. Gelebor held it awkwardly at first, but Divayth showed him how to position his arm, and soon the Falmer child was cradled comfortably in Gelebor's lap.

"You have as long as you need to decide," Divayth said, stroking his beard. "I understand it is a difficult decision for some couples."

Nadene knelt down and kissed the baby's cheek. "I know my choice. Gelebor?"

"As far as rebuilding a population goes...I am not certain." He rested his hand on soft white curls, sighing softly. "But if you try to take this girl away from me now, Divayth Fyr, I'll be forced to attack you."

"Hah! I knew you'd like her. Gods, just think of it. Our children growing up together, here in Tel Fyr, free from the influence of the Empire and Morrowind. We can teach them magic, swimming, cooking, alchemy...the excitement threatens to overwhelm me."

"Let me get you some tea, before you collapse." Nadene took one last look at the baby, drinking in the sight, before turning to the door. "Want anything, love?"

Gelebor glanced up, still stroking the infant's hair. He smiled; turned away from Divayth, it was an expression just for his wife. "I'm fine, Nadene. I'm fine just where I am."

The End