@SubRosa - The Armigers are also a branch of Temple military, but they're generally a lot friendlier than the Ordinators when you run into them. In-game, you mainly encounter them at Ghostgate and Molag Mar, and they seem to be busy attempting to keep Dagoth Ur contained and having poetry battles with the Imperial Legion. Lorewise, they're sworn to Vivec as opposed to the Ordinators' Almalexia and seem to function as knights-errant/heroic adventurers/etc.

So hunting heretics is more the Ordinators' realm overall! In Adrynverse I would not, however, go so far as to say that they're completely uninvolved, especially when it comes to the Nerevarine where we've already seen that Vivec has a... special interest... in the matter.

The "buoyant" bit seems to be because they were pretty cheerful when Vivec founded their order! Although Adryn, too, wondered whether they float when she first met Ervesa .

Last installment, Adryn relaxed at Ghostgate and got to know some of Ervesa's comrades-in-arms. Everything was going fairly smoothly until the conversation turned to Ervesa and Adryn discovered that said comrades-in-arms appear to be under the impression that she and Adryn are dating... an impression, from the sounds of it, supported by Ervesa herself. Luckily (?), Ervesa herself turned up at that point. Adryn is intent on getting some answers...

Important: This part is less brutal than the Nerevar flashback but covers similar material and similar warnings apply.



It was only after I'd shut the door firmly behind us that I realised that immediately grabbing Ervesa in front of witnesses and dashing off to the room where I, and I alone, was staying tonight would not in any way serve to douse the rumours being spread about me. In fact, it qualified as pouring oil on the fire. I grit my teeth and decided to ignore that fact for now. From the sounds of it, I'd have a hard time dissuading anyone there right now, and it was really far more important to figure out what Ervesa thought she was playing at.

Speaking of.

"Care to explain?" My voice could have frozen an ice wraith solid.

Ervesa had dropped to sit on the edge of the narrow bed nearest the door, her shoulders slumped and face downturned. Now, she raised her head to look up at where I was standing, bearing an expression of such abject misery that I might have been tempted to take pity on her if I'd been just a little less angry.

"Look, I- I'm sorry. I didn't think you'd meet any of them, figured there'd be no harm in letting them think..."

"That we were sleeping together?" Under the anger, I realised, was a sense of growing betrayal. Ervesa was the one person I'd met who agreed with me on the worth, or rather lack thereof, of such activities. The one person standing at my shoulder even as the rest of the world told me there was something wrong with me. Having her take their side like this smarted. "Which you lied to them about?"

"I didn't lie! Just..." Ervesa squirmed. "Didn't correct their misconceptions."

Perhaps in some other situation, speaking about some other topic, that distinction would have mattered to me. Right now, it did nothing to calm the ball of snakes writhing in my stomach.

"Why?" The word burst out of me unbidden. I wanted to believe it sounded angry, demanding, but had a hard time denying that there was a definite plaintive edge to it.

Ervesa heaved a sigh, stirring the air in the small room. "All right. I'll explain, just... would you sit? This might take a while, and I'm going to get a crick in my neck if I have to keep staring up at you."

For a moment I considered insisting that no, I'd rather stand. My feet put paid to that plan, as they chose to remind me that I'd been walking all day, with far fewer breaks than I'd have liked, and although they were sure I had good reasons to want to be childishly contrary, they had nevertheless liked sitting in the common room and were highly displeased I'd cut that activity short. If I didn't get off them soon, they would absolutely make their displeasure my problem.

"Fine," I snapped and joined Ervesa on the edge of the bed. I pointedly chose to sit at the very corner, keeping as much distance between us as I could. Judging by her wince, the message was received. "I'm listening."

"The first Armigers were Vivec's companions in all things. They were at his side in battle, at the feast-hall, in dance and song... and, often, in bed."

Ervesa paused. When I glanced her way, she wasn't looking at me. Instead, her eyes were fixed on her hands, lying on her lap with her fingers laced together so tightly the knuckles were white.

"Captain Voruse said that Vivec has not taken an Armiger as a lover in many years. But... it happened so often, for so long, that it became part of what it means to be in our Order."

"What, sleeping with your god?" This was a side of living gods I'd frankly never considered before. And if I'd thought about it, I would've almost certainly assumed that anything claiming to be a superior being was smart enough to avoid all that nonsense.

Assumed wrongly, apparently.

All of a sudden, the Nine Divines seemed far more attractive than before.

Ervesa gave a helpless shrug. "More... general than that. Seduction, casual relationships – sex. It's as much part of being an Armiger as poetry and blades, they'll tell you."

Slowly, things were coming together. "But you didn't want it."

"Of course I didn't!" I flinched as Ervesa raised her voice. "I was never interested, never understood what the point was supposed to be. They said I'd change my mind as I got older, then told me I must be wrong about my feelings when I didn't. And when I started training as an Armiger – you know, they were so insistent I decided they must be right? That clearly I must want it, so deep down I'd never consciously realised. So the next time a fellow trainee propositioned me, I took him up on it."

I'd never seen Ervesa like this before. So small, hunched in on herself, head bowed, shoulders trembling. I was angry at her, I knew – angry for good reason, too – but right now the emotion seemed far away and hard to grasp. That story was too familiar, resonating all too well somewhere deep within me. Made me remember myself, years ago, deciding that if the rest of the world wasn't going to respect my stance on sex I'd return the favour.

Although I, unlike Ervesa, had never given in to the pressure.

(A gold-skinned woman clad in a plain white robe, mouth set, eyes blazing-

Hadn't I?)

"How was it?" I couldn't help asking, spurred by something sharper, more bitter than curiosity.

Ervesa raised her head to look at me. "Awful. Hated every moment of it. He was so insulted." Her eyes were wet, but a wry smile tugged at her lips all the same. Then it faded. "See, I tried it. Now you don't have to."

Don't make my mistakes, I heard.

("Maybe I don't want a lover who has to try not to flinch when I touch him-")

The strange feeling of violation I'd woken up with was back, stronger this time, leaving my skin crawling. I wrapped my arms tightly around my middle, as though if I just squeezed hard enough I could protect myself from-

From-

I didn't know. All I knew was that for all that I was feeling more sympathetic towards Ervesa than when I'd come in, it was good that we were sitting some distance apart. Because if anyone touched me right now, I'd try to claw their face off.

Ervesa didn't seem to notice. She still wasn't looking at me, her gaze fixed on the opposite wall. "After that, they decided I must only be interested in women. That's considered... acceptable, among the Armigers. They backed off for a while, said they wanted to give me time to come to terms with it. A 'difficult realisation', they called it."

Ervesa was fixed in my mind as always smiling, always ready with a joke and a laugh. I'd always known there was more to her than that, but I'd still never imagined she could sound this bitter.

"Recently it started to become clear that they thought I'd had enough time. So, when we met... when I told my comrades about this stubborn alchemist I kept rescuing from her own heroics," her lips pulled into a wry grin, "and they jumped to conclusions..."

"You let them."

"I let them," Ervesa repeated with an exhausted sigh. "It was just... too easy to go with it. I figured you'd never meet them, and that... since you weren't interested in anything like that either, it wasn't as if I'd be ruining your chances with anyone..." She bit her lip. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done it without asking you first."

No, she shouldn't have.

And even after her explanation... I understood, but at the same time I didn't understand.

"But why not stand up for yourself?" I asked her. "I mean, doing it like this – you'd have to pretend, and keep on pretending, and all the while they get to think they're right. Surely it'd be so much easier to just tell them they're being idiots about the whole thing?"

Ervesa laughed. For the first time since the conversation had started, she turned to look straight at me. "That's because you're a lot braver than I am."

"Come again?" There was no way I'd heard that correctly. "I have to point out that one of us in this room is a holy warrior who goes risking her life against dangerous beasts, mind-controlling statues and that sort of thing on a daily basis. And we both know which of us it is."

Ervesa waved this off. "That doesn't count, that's just- just duty. Just fighting. That's easy. It's a lot harder to stand up to people, especially people you respect. You're never afraid to say what you think, even if it means disagreeing with your friends, or people in authority. It's something I admire a lot about you." She was, as far as I could tell, being entirely sincere. I squirmed as I felt my cheeks heat up. "I've always struggled with it myself. I mean, how I joined the Temple alone..."

All right, on the one hand, we really needed to finish the conversation we were having. On the other, she could hardly dangle something like that in front of me and expect me not to react. It would be downright unnatural.

"Oh? How did you join the Temple?"

Judging by the way Ervesa seized on the change of subject, she did not agree with me that our discussion wasn't finished. Ah, well, I could let her have a bit of a break.

I very decidedly did not let myself think that I might need one too.

Not the very start, but I read the chapter before last one. I was writing a reply but got distracted that day. I am about to start a Nerervarine playthrough of my own, so I got interested because I've never done Morrowind's Main Quest before.

Okay, it seems they are arguing about something here.



Whoa!

So there is Ervesa. What is the main protagonist's name?

Renee: Adryn is the protagonist. And sort of Nerevar, since she is reliving his memories, being the Nerevarine and all.


I am smiling as Adryin realizes that running off alone with Ervesa is feeding the fiction of her romantic entanglements. Doh!

Right now, it did nothing to calm the ball of snakes writhing in my stomach.
This was a lovely descriptive.

Wow, I am with Adryn. The Nine Divines are looking a lot better right now. The Tribunal suddenly feel a lot less like gods on Nirn, and more like cult leaders. I guess the difference is pretty fine. But banging your followers really goes over the edge.

Poor Ervesa, I think she is in the wrong profession. The Armigers are expecting more than she can give. I can certainly understand why she would lead them on about her non-relationship with Adryn. As she explained, she would not be cramping Adryn's action with someone else, and it got them off her back. But eventually her situation is going to become unbearable.

Oooh, lets dangle some origin stories please! Tell us more Ervesa!

@Renee - ah, OK! Fingers crossed starting the story midway works, since there's a lot of context I won't be explaining. Also: since Adryn is a noncombatant I'm taking a lot of creative liberty with Morrowind quests, and I'm also doing a lot with the reincarnation plotline that's not in the game. So although this will definitely give you insight on Morrowind as a game, expect things to be different.

Like SubRosa said, the protagonist is Adryn, as per the game she's Nerevar's reincarnation. Earlier chapters made clear that the intermittent Nerevar flashbacks are in fact dreams she's having, which she forgets as soon as she wakes up but which have been shown to be influencing her subconsciously.

@SubRosa - yeah The Buoyant Armigers have a particular culture of open sexuality and casual sex that doesn't work for Ervesa at all. It's the attitude of "sex is great and a natural part of being human and shouldn't be restricted! what do you mean, you don't want it? are you repressed? are you psychologically damaged? we must unearth your true desire for sex For Your Own Good" which I've run into before and which can be really toxic for ace people (among others). And I am fairly sure that Vivec/Armigers is actually canon somewhere in the Sermons of Vivec? In-verse I think it's been a long, long time since he's gone there, but... yeah.

Ervesa's solution isn't ideal by any means, but I do sympathise with how she ended up there. We'll see a little more on her history and thought process this installment.

Last installment, Adryn confronted Ervesa about pretending to the rest of the Armigers that they were in a relationship. We learned that there's an unspoken norm for Armigers to be sexually active which Ervesa has run afoul of before, and that she saw a way out from the pressure she was under by letting her colleagues believe she and Adryn were together. Adryn didn't get why she didn't just tell them off. Ervesa is about to give some extra context... aka: Ervesa origin story starting now.



"I wanted to become an Armiger ever since I was very young. My parents... there was..." Ervesa's lips pressed together. "The details don't matter. What's important is that as a child, I had to use an Intervention Scroll which led to me ending up alone in Molag Mar for several weeks. The Armigers' main base was there, and they were very kind and helpful to a lost, frightened girl. They were the ones who contacted my aunts and grandmother, after -" Ervesa cut herself off. "Well. Let's just say I was very grateful, and he- they left a real impression."

Ervesa had left out enough that the whole thing was more hole than story, but I could piece together some of the gaps. Something terrible had happened to Ervesa's family when she was young, something that had ended in her escape to the nearest Temple – alone, the sole survivor of whatever disaster had struck. The Armigers – or perhaps one in particular? I hadn't missed the brief slip into singular – had rescued her, taken her in, been kind to her, soothed the traumatised child she would have been. All too easy, for hero worship to grow.

Not that I knew about that part from experience, or anything.

"That made you want to join the Armigers?" I prompted, pushing aside the memory of tall figures striding off into the distance.

Ervesa smiled, a soft, far-away expression. Whatever she was seeing, I didn't think it was in this room. "Exactly. I wanted to be strong, and brave, and able to help people the way h- they'd helped me. It was as though Almsivi themselves had come to show me what I was meant to do with my life. There was nothing anyone could do to move me... much to my grandmother's displeasure."

"Displeasure?" I repeated, wondering if I'd misunderstood. What I'd gathered of Morrowind culture so far was that Armigers were seen as heroes, that any family would be proud to have one in their ranks. What Ervesa was telling me now didn't match up... which was deeply worrying. It was one thing not to understand the local culture – it was another not to realise I didn't.

"Yes. My whole family was horrified, really, my grandmother was just the most vocal." Ervesa's smile twisted. "Hardly a surprise. Telvanni aren't exactly known for their devotion to the Temple."

I choked. I hadn't even been drinking anything, but when the surprise is great enough little things like that cease to matter; I choked on air.

"Adryn? Are you all right?"

I managed to get my coughing under control. "You. Telvanni? You-"

It wasn't enough for shock to sabotage my breathing, it seemed. No, it was greedy enough to move on to my capacity for language as well. At least, I found my mind utterly blank when I cast about for words that would express the many ways, shapes and forms in which Ervesa did not match what I'd learned about Telvanni. My vocabulary deserting me, I resorted to gesturing instead. Perhaps if I did it frantically enough, I'd manage to get the meaning across through sheer effort.

"I guess I don't exactly fit your mental image of one, do I?"

It appeared that frantic gesturing was, in fact, a viable means of communication in extreme situations. Maybe something about the air displacement? In any case, a fact worth noting for future use.

"This is actually something a lot of... people new to Morrowind, or who don't generally have to do with the Great Houses... get wrong about them," Ervesa explained. I could feel the word outlander lurking in those pauses. At least she was polite enough not to say it out loud. "There's the classic stereotype I know you've heard – Redoran warriors, Hlaalu merchants, Telvanni wizards. A lot of people don't realise it is a stereotype."

I frowned. Athyn Sarethi's face swam in front of me. "All the Redoran I've met so far seem to match it well enough."

"Oh, there's definitely truth to it. It describes the... ideal of the House, if you will. Especially at the higher ranks, there's going to be a lot of pressure to live up to it, and those who don't aren't likely to be successful within it. Try finding a Telvanni past Retainer who isn't a mage. But there's a lot more to a House than the leaders and nobles. Half the population of Ald'ruhn is Redoran – you really think they're all warriors?"

I had to admit that made sense. "So you're saying that the Great Houses are larger than most of us – newcomers, shall we say – think, and once you look past the leadership positions you'll find people who don't fit the classic mold." This shone a new light onto Athyn Sarethi's offer to join Redoran. "Like a Telvanni who joins the Buoyant Armigers."

"Exactly. But you're right that it's rare. Not all Telvanni are mages, but the Temple is unpopular in all the House. My family was appalled when I told them I wanted to join, after. I went to live with my aunt in Vivec but she wouldn't hear a word of it, kept trying to convince me otherwise..." Ervesa shrugged. "I hate arguing with people. Always have. It was easier to just keep quiet, let her think she'd won. I was going to tell her when I was accepted for Armiger training, but then the day came and..." She reached up to fiddle with one of her braids, eyes on the floor, cheeks darkening to purple. "I just. Left a note."

"A note." I repeated flatly.

"Yes." Ervesa squirmed. "I knew it was just going to end in a fight, that she wouldn't understand, that I wouldn't change my mind. I figured, why put the both of us through that?"

I'd always figured Ervesa for somewhat older than me, the extra few years speaking not so much through her appearance as through her confidence, her certainty in her actions. Now, for the first time, she seemed younger, like a child awaiting a scolding. It was disconcerting.

I didn't have much experience with family, to put it mildly. All the same, I was reasonably sure running away from home without even saying goodbye was not the typical way these things were done. Especially since from the sounds of it Ervesa hadn't been expecting her aunt to forcibly stop her, just-

"Just because you wanted to avoid an argument?" I asked, incredulous.

"...yes." For the first time in a while, Ervesa met my eyes. There was a wry twist to her mouth. "You don't have to tell me, I've heard it all before. But... that's why I say you're braver than me."

I opened my mouth. Closed it again.

I should – say something, in response to that. Something that would make Ervesa understand how ridiculous she was being, how you didn't need courage to argue with people, how she was only causing problems for herself-

When I searched for the words, though, all I found was a wave of exhaustion crashing over me.

"You know what," I told the wall, "I've had a very long day. Dealing with secret Daedra. Getting deafened by magical fences. Discovering long-running affairs I have apparently been participating in. I am officially declaring myself too tired for this conversation."

From the corner of my eye I spotted relief suffusing Ervesa's face, and- no, that wasn't how I'd meant it. I couldn't let her think I approved of her avoidance of uncomfortable conversations, definitely not to the point where I'd use the same strategies myself.

"Which isn't to say that you're getting out of it!" I hastened to add. "We're continuing it as soon as I'm rested. First thing in the morning."

"Of course, Adryn," Ervesa answered, tone sincere enough I squinted at her suspiciously. "I'll just let you rest for now, shall I?"

The question was obviously rhetorical, Ervesa already rising from the bed before she'd finished speaking. Still, there was a moment there. Seconds of silence in which Ervesa brushed herself off, tossed her braids over her shoulder, and walked to the door. The perfect opportunity, in other words, to say yes, but when you leave, tell your friends that we are not together. I insist.

Except that I didn't. I simply sat there, frozen, the words stuck in my throat, trapped behind my tongue as though my mouth was too small for them.

"I... I really am sorry," Ervesa whispered just before the door shut behind her.

With her gone, my paralysis lifted. I sucked in air, the sound loud in the empty room. It felt like the first full breath I'd taken in hours.

Which would definitely be a possible cause for why my head was spinning. A nice, neat explanation. Shame it wasn't actually why.

What had just happened?

Why hadn't I insisted Ervesa explain-

Ervesa.

The things I'd learned about her today, this strange fear of disagreeing with people, were difficult to reconcile with the girl I knew. The one who fearlessly strode into dangerous situations, had rescued me time and again, who cheated at cards and made jokes and had never called me outlander. Ervesa had been a mainstay of my life on Vvardenfell almost since my arrival, brave – definitely the braver of the two of us, no matter what she might say – and strong and funny and pretty-

My thoughts came to a screeching halt.

Pretty?

She was, of course, but that wasn't something I noticed, something I paid attention to-

Or perhaps the more accurate way to phrase that would be hadn't been.

"Oh no," I whispered aloud as, with dawning indignation, the realisation swept over me.

I had a crush on Ervesa.

For how long, I didn't know. The thing had snuck up on me. It had been clever that way, I grudgingly admitted. If it had chosen the straightforward route, if I'd found myself thinking oh, I think I like her after the time Ervesa rescued me from the kagouti, I would definitely have noticed such an embarrassing turn of thought and crushed the nascent feelings before they had a chance to grow. Instead, it had been stealthy, staying well in my subconscious until its ambush now, when it was too deeply rooted to excise.

"Oh no-"

But – how was this even possible?

I'd never had a crush before nor expected one. Crushes, I knew, came hand-in-hand with romance which came hand-in-hand with precisely the activity I was completely uninterested in, had in fact bonded with Ervesa (the irony!) over not being interested in. Unless-

A block of ice was forming in my stomach.

Unless Charon had been right?

When he'd suggested that my lack of interest was in fact a lack of interest pertaining to men, that I was repressing my true desire for women, I'd been furious. Insulted, at the way he claimed to know my own emotions better than I did. I'd refused to speak to him until he apologised, and the resentment hadn't dissipated for even longer. A fragment of it had remained, a tiny splinter of hurt coming from the fact that once upon a time, I'd told him about something important and he'd refused to believe me. I'd done my best not to show it, told myself over and over that he'd apologised, but it had clung to my heart until-

Until there was no Charon to be angry at anymore.

If it turned out he'd been right all along...

Very carefully, as though probing my body for serious injury after a bad fall, I forced myself to imagine it. Ervesa and me, naked, entwined, touching-

My stomach informed me that it had been happily occupied digesting the meal I'd eaten earlier, but if I insisted it could, of course, expel everything it currently contained with extreme prejudice.

Vindicated, I let the images go. No, Charon had been wrong. Man or woman, crush or no, I still wanted to keep those parts of my body firmly to myself.

Which, of course, raised the question – if not that, what, exactly, was it I did want from Ervesa?

Was it even accurate to say I had a crush? I liked Ervesa. I admired her, I wanted to impress her, I wanted to spend time with her. I also thought she was pretty, and that fact seemed more... obtrusive, more relevant, than my aesthetic judgements usually did. But I didn't want to do anything physical with her. Not sex, not kissing.

I might, I thought, be able to bring myself to hug her. Maybe. On an occasional basis. Or perhaps it would be better to leave it at holding hands?

No, the Adryn personal space bubble was very much intact.

Did I maybe just want to be her friend?

That didn't feel right either. The whole thing was too sudden, too intense, too different from how I felt for Ajira or Jamie. Those emotions felt like a natural outgrowth of our interactions, this felt more as though a part of my mind had been turned into a compass pointing at Ervesa without my knowledge or consent. And I'd certainly never looked at either of them thinking they were pretty.

But if it wasn't friendship, then I must want to-

Except I didn't want to-

A dull throb of pain at my temples cut me off. This headache wasn't like the ones I'd been struggling with of late. Instead, I decided, it was clearly self-defense. I was exhausted, reeling from one too many emotional conversations and realisations, and my mind was going in circles. What I'd told Ervesa earlier held true here as well – it would be far better to continue this in the morning.

Wait.

What I'd told Ervesa earlier...

Dagon's mercy. I'd promised to continue our conversation from earlier.

Which meant talking to Ervesa. About her letting everyone think we were lovers. With this realization swirling through my head.

Maybe the spirits of the Ghostfence would have mercy on me and kill me in my sleep.



Notes: ...RIP Adryn's denial?

I like to think I've planted some seeds for this, and I know people in the comments on AO3 have picked up on me dangling Ervesa as a possible love interest. Alas for anyone hoping for them to get together, not only is this a less-than-great starting point, being ace with a crush and no alternate relationship models around can in fact be really confusing. Adryn is not planning to confess as long as she doesn't know what it is she is confessing, and given that she doesn't even have any sensible framework for asexuality, let alone the concept of romantic orientation, that could take a while.

Also: say hello to Ervesa the Telvanni! This has been part of my conception of her character from the start - a little nod to the complexity of the House setup and how not every member will fit the mould, plus a little dig at the in-game PC exceptionalism. Why shouldn't NPCs be able to be a member of multiple factions too, after all?

Wow, I had no idea Ervesa was a Telvanni either. I guess that explains why her family was not thrilled with her new-found buoyancy.

I really liked Ervesa's backstory. Well, what there was around that hole. You really humanized (elfanized?) her, with her family issues, and her desire to avoid further acrimony with them. That is everyone's Thanksgiving Dinner right there.

Oh goodness, Adryn has a crush? Well, she picked a good one with Ervesa at least. Well, except for the whole ace cards they have both been dealt. Looks like Adryn is going to have some issues to deal with in the future. A whole subscription of them I bet!

Aaand I'm back! After some serious wrestling with this chapter - not only did it decide it wanted a completely different start when I'd already started writing it but some of the Adryn scenes were difficult to write (I think she's sulking about the crush). But I got it to submit in the end! *\o/*

Belated @SubRosa - thanks, I'm glad you enjoyed! Ervesa's past has been planned for a while - it actually started as me going "why does only the PC get to be a member of multiple factions?" but quickly grew beyond that, lol. And yeah, that crush is going to be tough on Adryn, especially since she has to figure out how it works with the asexuality and all!

Last chapter, Adryn escorted a very rude pilgrim, or possibly Daedra in disguise, to Ghostgate. On reaching the place, she discovered that Ervesa had been claiming the two of them were in a relationship. A long discussion with Ervesa followed, wherein Adryn's attempt to tell her off properly was thwarted by both her sympathy for Ervesa's situation and her horrified realisation that she had a crush on the other woman. We'll see how she's dealing with that...

...but first, Adryn needs to sleep, and dream.



The urn was heavy in my arms, and big enough it was awkward to hold. I bit my lip and forced my arms to grip harder. It could be twice as heavy and twice as big, I told myself, and I still wouldn't drop it. I wouldn't let myself.

"All right there, Nerevar? I can carry her for you," Sul offered from beside me.

I shook my head firmly. In my opinion, my cousin was the bravest, cleverest, most wonderful person in the whole world, and normally I'd have done what he said without a second thought...

...but this wasn't normally.

"I'll do it. She'll be stronger then, right?" I asked the other person who'd accompanied me.

The Wise Woman nodded. "It will be good for your mother's spirit, if she is taken to her final resting place by her son. She will be faster to gather herself, faster to gain the strength she needs to pierce the veil. Perhaps by your children or grandchildren's day, she will be able to watch over them as a guardian."

"Right! It's better this way, see?" I tried to give Sul a smile, but my mouth wouldn't move right. I wasn't very good at smiling these days.

Sul didn't answer. His eyes were narrowed, squinting at me suspiciously, as though he knew what was going through my head. Maybe he did. Sul was too good at reading my mind. It wasn't fair.

A lot of things hadn't been fair recently.

Like the fact that everyone kept saying I wouldn't see my mother ever again. And- I wasn't a baby, I knew what dead meant, I knew she wasn't going to just walk back into the yurt one day, but-

But Mother was so strong, the strongest of our hunters, surely that had to mean she was strong as a spirit too? The Wise Woman said that she would be too weak to manifest as an ancestral guardian for years and years and years, but I couldn't believe it. Mother had never left me alone like that before. She wouldn't do it now, she wouldn't.

And the Wise Woman also kept talking about the things I could do to strengthen her. She said that it wouldn't make things that much faster, but- but maybe nobody had ever done everything right before. Maybe if I just tried hard enough, prayed enough, it would give Mother the strength she needed.

Maybe if I was perfect I'd get to see her again.

Now Sul was looking worried. "Nerevar-"

I didn't want to hear what Sul was going to say next. Ignoring him, I turned around, shifted the urn in my arms, and walked into the tomb.

Step by step, I made my way into the dark, teeth gritted against the strain. To distract myself, I silently rehearsed the phrase the Wise Woman had taught me. I couldn't get a single word wrong, I reminded myself. I had to be perfect.

Honoured ancestors, I bring Indoril Suveyna to join you. May you welcome her into-

Between one step and the next, reality tore.

I fell to my knees, my head ringing. It was as though I'd been walking across thin ice thinking it was solid ground, and it had finally given way to plunge me into frigid waters.

Slowly, the ringing subsided. I looked up to take stock.

First, and most obviously, I wasn't in our ancestral tomb anymore. The dim magelights were gone, the urns, the altar, even the stairs and the walls. All that remained was the dark, stretching on endlessly.

I also wasn't alone.

There were lots of people all around me. Dozens and dozens, even more than I'd seen at the tribes-moot when I was still little. They looked strange, too. All of them were glowing a bit, their clothes were weird, and their skin was grey, like they were covered in ash. Even stranger, their eyes were red! I could tell even though they weren't that close, because all of them were staring at me.

I gulped.

Maybe... maybe this was supposed to happen? The Wise Woman hadn't said anything about it, and neither had Sul, but maybe they hadn't thought to mention it. Maybe everyone knew that the tomb vanished inside and the ancestors were strange colours. Maybe this was normal.

And if it was, I wasn't doing it right. I only had the one chance, I had to strengthen Mother's spirit. I opened my mouth-

At that point, I realised something that should should should have been the very first thing I noticed:

I'd lost the urn.

I was about to panic when a voice interrupted me.

"Honoured ancestor, we greet you
We, your clan who hold you true
Beg you listen to us in our need
For all may be lost if you do not pay heed."

I stared.

The woman who'd approached me was as grey-skinned and red-eyed as all the others, clad in strange glittering green armour carved with geometric designs. More to the point, as far as I could tell at the start of all that poetry she'd called me honoured ancestor, and that was definitely the wrong way around.

There was probably some ritual for greeting an ancestor who was hopelessly confused, but if so no one had thought I'd need to know it. Just blurting out "what?" was almost certainly wrong, but the word escaped me anyway.

The woman blinked. Her eyes, which had been fixed on a point above my head, trailed down until they actually met mine. It was as though she'd been expecting someone much taller in my place.

"All right, that is... not helpful. Although I should probably have expected something like this, cursed dream-speech." She pinched the bridge of her nose. "Honoured ancestor, I beg pardon for my insolence, but I do actually need to speak with you about something in the present. Would you do your humble descendant the great favour of growing up a little?"

Were ancestors supposed to be delusional? I'd worry about that, but I was worrying more about where Mother's ashes had gone-

But why was I thinking about them? Mother's ashes had been interred in our ancestral tomb in those dreadful weeks after her kagouti hunt had gone so terribly wrong when I was a child... centuries ago, in other words. And our tomb was in no danger – the guardians were strong, the ghostfence active, and no clan had attacked another's ancestors since we'd established the Council. Had I been dreaming?

Or was I still dreaming? Because the woman before me did not belong to the waking world. Grey skin, eyes like fire, she looked like an odd cross between a Chimer and a Dremora. And what on Nirn was that armour made out of?

"Who are you?" I demanded, scrambling to my feet as I reached back for my spear. "What are you?"

The woman looked as though she were regretting all the choices that had led her here. "Better, but still not what I need. Honoured ancestor- lord Hortator-"

She stopped, eyes shifting to focus on something behind me. It didn't strike me as a feint, so I dared a quick glance over my left shoulder.

The person coming up beside me could hardly be called such. She was a ghost of a ghost, her form faded into translucence, only a glimmer of light setting her off from the darkness. Her face was washed-out, blurred, almost invisible...

And yet I recognised it all the same.

Especially since I'd only just been thinking about her.

"Mother?" I mouthed.

My long-dead mother smiled at me, something terrible burning in those faded eyes. She opened her mouth to speak, but the only sound that escaped her was a quiet rustling whisper.

But-

But that wasn't right either, because I'd never known my mother, had I? Foundling, abandoned, clanless – the ghost looking at me now was a stranger to me. Was the wrong species, even, the bare hint of colour she had remaining showing her skin to be gold.

A hand rested on my other shoulder. I spun around.

"Easy there," said the man who'd come up on my right while I'd been distracted. "We'll take care of this."

Ahead, the woman who'd first addressed me – a Dunmer, of course, wearing glass armour in the Armiger style, and why had I been taken so aback at her appearance? - looked between me and the two now flanking me. "Honoured ancestors." That was addressed to the ghost-woman and, inexplicably, me. "You."

"What, I don't get a respectful title?" the man on my right retorted. He was Dunmer too, young, in plain clothes.

"You're younger than me, you're not one of my ancestors-"

"-transitivity says otherwise-"

"-and I heard about all the trouble you caused," the Armiger snapped. "No. Absolutely not. Besides, my business is with him, not you."

I looked around to see if anyone else had come up behind me while I wasn't looking, but the remaining people were keeping their distance. That meant that yes, the woman definitely meant me.

All right, with this and 'honoured ancestor'... was the woman actually blind? In what way, shape or form did I look male?

"I think she'd prefer 'her'," the man said, earning him my immediate undying gratitude.

"Her, then. I don't care. I do care about the fact that there are some very important things I need hi- her to know." She turned to me. "Honoured ancestor, take pity on your humble descendants for they are in need of you. The Ghostfence grows weaker as the Sharmat grows stronger, and evil has escaped to mass beyond it – at Mamaea, at Ilunibi, at Kogoruhn. You are the Hortator, you know the enemy – you must come to our aid."

"I. Have no idea what you're talking about?" Complete bafflement appeared to be the emotion of the day. "Are you sure you have the right person? I'm fairly sure I'd know if I had descendants... and I'm just an alchemist, you know, not some- some hero or something."

The woman stared at me long enough I began to wonder whether I had something on my face.

"See, I was trying to tell you," the man to my right said. "You're too early, she doesn't remember yet. Try again later."

The woman swore. "Vivec's spear-"

The man's hand on my shoulder tightened. The air around us grew sharp and heavy.

"I'm surprised," his voice was mild, "that you're still swearing by Vivec. Considering exactly who you're asking for help."

The woman straightened. I knew that posture from the inside – it was pride stiffening her spine. "And why shouldn't I? If it weren't for Lord Vivec we'd have been overrun long ago. With his strength bolstering us we'd still be holding the Sharmat's creatures well enough, too, if they hadn't learned to cursed well dig."

The ghost to my left moved forward, opened her mouth. Again, the only noise that escaped her sounded like wind passing through dead leaves – but this time said wind was definitely angry.

Judging by the Armiger's flinch, unlike me she could understand what the ghost was saying. "I... will think on your words, honoured ancestor."

She'd changed, I realised. Lines carved her face, her armour was dull and dented, and her eyes were infinitely tired as she turned to once more look at me.

"Honoured ancestor- no. Alchemist, if that's how you term yourself. He says you need time, so we shall give you all the time there is to spare. But please, when you are able – remember. Remember who you are, remember what you can do, and remember that the spirits of the Ghostgate need you."

The words felt like stones dropping into the surface of my mind, ripples spreading out from where they fell. (Remember- remember- remember-) Even after the last echo had died away, I felt- different. Heavy. As though the plea was still buried within me, hidden in the depths, waiting.

The woman, I realised, was fading away. When she met my eyes, I could see the darkness behind. She was so translucent it was hard to make out her figure when she brought her hands together in front of her chest, harder still as she sank into a deep bow – and by the time she should have risen again, she was gone. Gone, and the watching crowd with her, leaving me and my two companions alone in the dark.

"Could someone please explain what just happened?" I asked the universe plaintively.

The man beside me sighed. He still hadn't let go of my shoulder; it said something about how completely bewildering the last few minutes had been that I hadn't tried to dislodge him yet. "I would, but there's not much point. You wouldn't remember."

Something clicked. "Because I'm dreaming, right?"

"Because- well. Yes! Let's go with that."

That... had not been confirmation. I frowned, about to press him for the truth, but he got there first.

"Besides, we don't have much time left, and I want to tell you something." The man finally dropped his hand, instead stepping forward to stand in front of me. He, too, had changed – grey now streaked his hair, and his plain shirt, vest and breeches had turned into fine robes. The wrinkles around his eyes and mouth spoke of a mer who loved to laugh, but right now his face was solemn.

"But you just said I wouldn't remember anything-"

"Oh, I'm being perfectly selfish, this is for my benefit rather than yours." The man inhaled. "I'm sorry."

I decided that by the time this dream, or whatever it was, was over, I'd have to learn how to be perfectly, blissfully certain about everything as I'd have so badly abused my allotment of confusion for the next decade that the universe would almost certainly refuse to provide more. "I'm not following."

The man reached up to rub the back of his neck. "I'm new to this whole ancestral guardian thing, and... it's a very unusual situation, true, but all the same I'm afraid I've made an absolute hash of it. In my defense, you really have made yourself hard to keep track of – was it really necessary to move around that much when you were younger? - but I won't make excuses. There were times you could have really used a ghost showing up to throw fireballs at people on your behalf, and I didn't. I wasn't able, but that doesn't really matter. Fact of the matter is I didn't, and you have no idea how sorry I am for that."

Ancestral guardian. The cogs of my completely overwhelmed mind began to grind back into gear.

"You're... one of my ancestors." The image of a four-armed skeleton floated at the top of my mind. "From that tomb in the Grazelands?"

"What? Oh, no. Other side of the family entirely, that. Although your great-great-granduncle was delighted that you came to visit. Great-great-great? Something like that. In any case, no, I'm..."

He paused, eyes narrowing.

"I'd introduce myself, but you don't actually know if you want me to. Isn't that right?"

My gaze fell to the nonexistent floor.

He was right, of course. I hadn't even decided whether I wanted to use the Temple kinfinding services. Hadn't even tried to make up my mind, either, since it wouldn't matter until after I'd finished the pilgrimages and so I still had a lot of time to think it over... or so I'd expected. Having a chatty ghost turn up when I'd barely started had not been in my calculations at all, and now I didn't know what to think anymore.

I was distracted from my musings by the sensation of a hand ruffling my hair.

"Perfectly understandable you'd feel that way, of course. But-"

A rustle from my side – a whisper, far too faint to understand.

The man glanced over, gave a respectful nod aimed to my left. "We're almost out of time, it seems, and the honourable lady here has something to say." He paused. "The apology stands, you know. And if you're ever ready to stop running, I'll be here." Then he stepped back.

The faded ghost had remained quietly at my side while the man had been talking. Now, she drifted forward until she was facing me. She was a stranger, of course, no one I'd ever seen before, so I had no idea why a pit opened in my stomach at the sight of her.

She reached forward to cup my face, the touch as light and insubstantial as a breeze. My heart was beating fast enough to burst from my chest, but I didn't draw back, didn't try to free myself. Some strange buried part of me screamed in agony at the mere thought.

Cool lips brushed feather-light over my brow.

The world went white-

-white, then red-

-and then I was blinking up at the ceiling.

"What on Nirn," I asked it, "was that all about?"



Notes: Fun story! Mr. Ancestral Guardian here is actually a canon ESO character. Stumbling across him was incredibly fun because he was "canonically"in the family tree I'd already given her and he's just... completely perfect... as one of Adryn's ancestors. I was planning to have him still be alive and crop up during Adryn: Tribunal, but I never really had much of a role for him... and then when I'd already started this chapter he spoke up saying that actually, he'd rather be dead and show up earlier, and by earlier he meant now. So that happened!

His identity would, I note, be a massive spoiler for part of Adryn's heritage that won't be clear for a long time yet, so I deliberately didn't really add much in the way of hints for it and won't be confirming or denying any guesses in the thread. Another reason I was planning to bring him in later, but the characters disagreed.

This is a very neat scene. It starts ordinarily enough as Nerevar at her mother's funeral. Then it makes a total turn when he is summoned by people from his future. It took me a few moments to realize that the gray skins and red eyes were not normal to him. In his time the Dunmer looked like the Altmer. So that was a cool revelation.

And then we shift from Nerevar's perspective to Adryn's. That was a bit confusing. But I was expecting it, so I followed along.

Very neat! Adryn's ancestor guardian finally showed up! Plus the ghost of her mother.

So wonderful to have you back!

The scene in the tomb is appropriately confusing. As it should be. I would be very confused myself if I were to experience something like that... It was really fun to read because I have written my own scene in a tomb to occur much later in Lena Wolf's story (see I'm Lena Wolf here on Chorrol). Tombs are spooky places, what can I say!

Late? Who, me, late?

@SubRosa - yeah, this was probably the weirdest I'm going to be with perspectives, featuring bb!Nerevar sliding into grown-up!Nerevar sliding into Adryn. The confusion was unavoidable in this case - I'm glad you followed along despite that!

@Lena Wolf - like I said to SubRosa, it's kind of hard to avoid that being confusing so I'm glad you followed along! I've seen your story and will have to check it out sometime

Last installment, Adrynerevar dreamed and had a conversation. This conversation was extremely confusing, featured ancestral guardians, and... it is possible Adryn remembered a *bit* more of it than usual when waking up! Go her.



"Captain Naros," Ervesa said decisively.

"Eh?" I blinked at her, torn out of my thoughts. After Ervesa's urging, I'd rushed through breakfast and we'd ended up reaching our agreed meeting point for the expedition to the shrine early. I'd slipped into daydreams as we waited.

"Your Buoyant Armiger. She was captain of the Armigers in the middle of the Second Era, known for her skill at poetry, and her spirit was one of the anchors of the Ghostfence when it was first erected. Glass armour was reserved for the captains until recently, and she's the only one who matches the description."

"That's... nice?"

Bewildering though it had been, I'd been delighted enough that for once I'd had a dream that I could at least partially remember I'd immediately shared it with Ervesa. If I'd known how she'd latch onto it, I'd have reconsidered. I suspected her enthusiasm for dissecting it was at least in part due to the fact that it meant we were not continuing our conversation from last night, but it was still annoying to deal with.

"Indoril Naros, she was," Ervesa continued. "Rare, too, to have an Indoril join the Armigers-"

"Says the Telvanni."

"-but not unheard of." Ervesa ignored my interjection. "Oh, imagine if you were descended from her! A true hero of the Armigers, we have at least a dozen ballads about her exploits – and you'd be an Indoril, too!"

Indoril. It was one of the five Great Houses, I knew, like Redoran or Telvanni but with no presence on Vvardenfell.

The name felt... familiar. Like a word I'd spoken so often my tongue had grown around its shape. It felt right.

I pushed the feeling away, because there was something more important than my flights of fancy.

"I... don't think she was my ancestor, though." I couldn't really remember the conversation we'd had – something about her wanting me to do something I couldn't? - but I was fairly sure about that part. I did have the vague recollection of her calling me her ancestor, but I must have gotten that muddled up with something else.

"Oh." Ervesa drooped. "Pity." True to form, though, she recovered quickly. "Now, the woman who wasn't a Dunmer, she's an interesting one. Altmer, you thought?"

I frowned. "I thought so... but she was short for one, and her hair was dark." I'd never seen an Altmer with dark hair, and really, really hoped the stories I'd heard of what they did to ensure that were just stories. "Gold skin, though, never seen that on a Bosmer before."

"There are no Altmer spirits in the Ghostfence... and although I suppose it's not out of the question you have Altmer blood, it'd have to be some way back for you to show none of the traits." Ervesa squinted at me, as though she thought I might suddenly grow a foot and have my eyes go yellow if she just stared at me long enough. I fought off the urge to cross my arms defensively. "Besides, I've heard Altmer spirits don't stick around long after death. Selfish, if you ask me. No family loyalty at all."

I considered starting a discussion about tolerance and respect for other cultures' death practices and decided it wasn't likely to be very productive. "This was definitely an older spirit. She was all... faded."

"Hmm. She could be Chimer." Ervesa sounded doubtful. "There are hardly any Chimer spirits left, though, and I have no idea why one would have an interest in you. They generally don't – it's been so long, the bloodlines are so distant, the few you still see are usually attached to places rather than people."

My memory of the woman was still splintered, but I was fairly sure that yes, she'd been interested in me specifically. The man had thought so too, hadn't he?

The honourable lady has something to say...

Although that hadn't been the only thing he'd told me, had it? No, he'd monologued at me, I was sure of it. The memory was scattered, but by concentrating I could begin to piece it back together.

There were times you could have really used a ghost showing up to throw fireballs at people, and I didn't.

I jerked upright from my slump against the wall. "The man- that's right! He was an ancestor. My ancestor guardian, he said."

Ervesa beamed. "Now we're getting somewhere. Can you describe him?"

"Well..." I thought back. "His hair was brown... or black... although it might have been grey? Um. I think it was longish, but I'm not certain. He wasn't... I don't think he was tall? Although he was taller than me, so maybe he was? And he was wearing, I don't know, something. Not armour."

Beside me, I saw that Ervesa was covering her eyes with one hand, as though unable to bear the sight of me. "He was talkative?" I offered weakly.

"That- were you paying any attention at all?"

"Well, I'm sorry!" I retorted, feeling slightly offended. "I don't have a good memory for faces!"

"Or hair, height, or clothes, apparently. By now I'm amazed you managed to remember Captain Naros' armour."

"I was paying more attention to what he was saying than what he looked like," I sniffed.

What he'd been saying.

The start of the dream was still hopelessly fragmented, but more and more the end was coming together again. The conversation with the man, in particular.

I'd introduce myself, but you don't actually know if you want me to. Isn't that right?

Suddenly, I was ready to be done with this conversation.

For once the universe decided to come to my aid – a surprise, as in recent times it seemed bent on making me suffer. Perhaps it was feeling guilty? At any rate, that was when the door slammed open and four more people spilled into the room.

"Can we go already?"

Correction, three people – a male Armiger in glass armour, a woman decked out in bonemould and Spikes who I'd met yesterday – plus one Daedra badly disguised as a pilgrim.

"Have some patience, woman," the unknown Armiger said. Judging by the frazzled look he was shooting her, he hadn't appreciated having to deal with our local Oblivion infiltrator so far. I had no sympathy. None. Zero. He'd only been faced with her since yesterday evening, and had had allies the whole time. I'd been forced to handle her for days, alone.

Vindictively, I decided to dub him Rich Boy. I'd done some research on the value of native Morrowind goods, and the price of a full suit of glass armour was astronomical. He had to come from serious money.

Rich Boy's pinched expression smoothed when he saw me and Ervesa. "Ah, and it seems we are complete. I thought for certain you two would be running late."

The implication was clear. I ground my teeth so hard he could probably hear them. Beside me, Ervesa stood frozen and silent as a statue. I didn't think it was only my imagination that I could feel guilt radiating off her.

Guilt which, in this particular case, didn't belong entirely to her.

I could have pressed the matter. Could have continued our conversation last night, could have stopped her from seizing onto the topic of my dream this morning. Ervesa had clearly been hoping to distract me, to avoid the topic, but it was hardly as if I was verbally defenceless. I could have insisted.

I hadn't.

Oh, I'd intended on it. Had promised myself I would, last night. But this morning, head still spinning from my realisation last night (needless to say, the dream had not served to make me feel any less confused), I hadn't been able to face it. It still hurt that she'd misrepresent our relationship to her fellows, but the fact that I didn't even know what I wanted that relationship to be anymore meant I wasn't in a good place to tell her off for it. So when she'd deflected... I'd let her.

I told myself very sternly that this avoidance would be a temporary state of affairs, coming to an end as soon as I got my head on straight. This habit of Ervesa's was strange, damaging, and absolutely not something to emulate.

The silence lengthened as Rich Boy looked between the two of us, brow furrowing. I suspected that we did not give the impression of a pair of lovers who'd just finished a romp in the sheets.

"Is everything all-"

"If we're all here, can't we go?"

The world was a strange and marvelous place, with unforeseen miracles around every corner. My greatest piece of evidence for this: the fact that I'd just found myself feeling grateful towards the Daedra.

"I agree with the pilgrim," the unknown woman said, speaking for the first time. I was clearly getting the hang of Morrowind culture and politics, given that I'd looked at her bonemold armour and dour expression and immediately been able to categorise her as Redoran. "If we keep standing her gossiping, we will be running late."

"Touchy, touchy..." Rich Boy shook his head. "But fair enough. Ervesa, we'll talk later."

Almost unnoticeably, Ervesa winced. I had absolutely no sympathy for her. She'd made her bed, time to lie in it.

"Right." The man straightened, turning to look first at me, then the badly disguised Daedra. "Pilgrims. We're about to enter the Red Mountain area. It is extremely dangerous, and don't think I'm exaggerating for poetic effect because I'm an Armiger. Taluro here will be able to confirm, and everyone can tell you she doesn't have a sense of humour." He nodded towards the Redoran woman, who glared at him but didn't otherwise protest. "Me, I'd love it if all of us returned from this trip alive, healthy, and with the same number of limbs we all started with. We have a competition going with the Ordinators, see, and I lose points if I lose any of you." His teeth flashed white in a grin.

I was starting to rethink this idea. I'd managed with no clan and no organised religion in my life up until now, surely I could continue on that way?

"So, pilgrims, a few ground rules." He began counting off his fingers. "Rule one, if we say something, you do it. No back-talk, no questions – if I say 'jump', I want to see you off the ground."

Well, it seemed this pilgrimage would definitely be a test of willpower, because talk about not playing to my strengths.

"Rule two, no wandering off. You are to stay beside one of us at all times. I don't care if you find the Blighted shalk off in the distance the most fascinating thing you ever saw, it will take your face off if you go near it."

I had no idea what sort of a mad person would detach themselves from their guards in a highly dangerous area to go look at a disease-ridden beast.

Although if there were rare alchemical ingredients around...

"Rule three... don't die."

All right, I thought I could manage that one.

"All right. Everyone got their soul gems? Then masks up and head out."

Even as I fumbled to draw up the scarf Ervesa had given me so that it covered my nose and mouth, the Armiger pulled a lever set into the outer wall and the solid iron gate gleaming with enchantment began, ponderously, to creak open.

For a moment, I wondered about safety. I hadn't seen any lock or other way the lever was secured. What was stopping someone from just wandering by and entering the Red Mountain region themselves?

...well, common sense, I supposed.

"Taluro, Enar, take point. Pilgrims, in the middle, with Ervesa to guard. I'll bring up the rear."

The warriors moved, smooth and coordinated as though they were parts of one great Dwemer automaton. As I stumbled to follow, I felt terribly like the grit in their cogwheel.

I'd barely taken five steps from the gate before I began to rethink this whole endeavour.

At first glance, the area inside the Ghostgate looked much like the landscape just outside. Ash, the odd dead tree, more ash, the glow of a lava pool in the far distance...

But one obvious difference immediately caught my attention – there were no living plants. Oh, the Ashlands and Molag Amur might seem dead to the ignorant, but there was still scathecraw and trama root, fire fern and lichen, nature clinging to every foothold it could. Here? Nothing as far as the eye could see.

Which wasn't very far. Although I knew the sun had risen by now, it was hidden by clouds so thick and dark that fact could no longer be empirically verified, the closest hills only distant shadows in the gloom. Here just outside Ghostgate the eerie white-blue light of the Ghostfence illuminated our surroundings, but further in I suspected it would be little better than night-time.

Beside me, Miss Daedra in disguise raised her hand. Magicka gathered around her palm, brightened-

"No light spells," Rich Boy hissed from ahead. "We need our night vision, and we don't need attention."

Wonder of wonders, the so-called pilgrim who had been a plague on my existence the last two days immediately obeyed, the gathering sparks snuffed out as if they'd never been. Where had that docility been when I'd been trying to explain that I could not, in fact, magically whisk the both of us to Ghostgate?

Although really, magic was an idea. Unlike the Daedra I wasn't stupid enough to send up a giant we are here signal, but if this area was really so dangerous it couldn't hurt for me to use my Detection spell to keep a metaphysical eye on our surroundings. I reached into my magicka-

Correction. It could absolutely hurt.

For one, I'd forgotten about the Ghostfence. The edifice, awe-inspiring enough to regular eyes, was even more imposing to my magical senses. Trying to sense anything past it was like trying to hear a water droplet in a waterfall, and so by all rights it should have drowned out anything nearby.

Should have being the key word.

There was something wrong here, pulsating and feverish and poisonous. It reminded me of nothing so much as the Blighted guar we'd run into in the West Gash, except that this sensation wasn't coming from a particular point. No, although it did seem to get stronger to the north, I could sense it diffusely all around me. It was as if the very air were tainted with something.

The scarf was scratchy and uncomfortable against my face. All the same, I didn't think I'd be taking it off until we were back in Ghostgate. Or outside Ghostgate. Really, was I sure Balmora was far enough away to be safe?

"Adryn," Ervesa hissed from my side.

I realised I'd come to a complete halt. "Sorry," I murmured, and forced myself to take another step, then another, as I cut the flow of magicka off. I almost tripped as the sensations ceased, but caught myself just in time. I didn't think I really wanted to come in close contact with the ground here. My feet couldn't be helped, of course, but there was no need to go beyond that. As it was, I'd have to give serious thought to amputation once we got back.

The heavy, echoing clang of a gate slamming shut was unmistakeable, but I shot a glance behind us anyway. Sure enough – our exit was shut, and I couldn't help but notice that there was no lever on this side.

I had a brief moment to regret all the choices that had led me here.

"It'll be opened for us when we get back," Rich Boy said. "Now, let's get a move on."

And so we moved.

I know you explained it, but I still keep thinking that Buoyant Armigers are emergency flotation devices.

I love how the name Indoril feels right in Adryn's mind.

Hopefully there won't be any rare alchemical ingredients around... As for the rest of it, yeah, I expect there are plenty of people stupid enough to wander off on these expeditions.

I love that sense of metaphysical toxicity in the air beyond the Ghostgate.

I am up to post 22 of the tales of Adryn. Still dealing with the red tape of getting out of the Census Office. It's funny how Morrowind's 'tutorial' is actually the shortest, yet it's also the one with multiple stops and starts.

Ha, Adryn is trying to decide if all that stuff in the office is safe to steal. I've been there several times. It all depends on what sort of character we've just rolled. Anyway, all that food and those utensils and dinnerware, all that stuff is tempting for me no matter what sort of character I've got.

Holy cripes, Adryn climbed the wall? Can we actually do that? Oh wait. We cannot.



This seems a technique Imperial guards hadn't perfected until six years later. Anyway, delightful read, this was. Light and witty.

Thanks also for putting the Next links between each chapter. I might have to start doing that.

@SubRosa - yeah, the name DOES take getting used to... and I always found the Red Mountain area so scary in the game (the way the lighting just *changes*, my god), I couldn't resist bringing that home a little!

@Renee - oh wow you're really starting from the beginning! I hope you enjoy it! Fair warning, the Next links do end eventually (because I didn't want to edit my posts if I could help it since that messes up their encoding for some reason). I couldn't resist having fun with the tutorial section! As far as Adryn climbing the wall goes... she sometimes takes shameless advantage of the fact that she is not, actually, within a video game and gets to do stuff like that

Last installment, Adryn talked about (pieces of) her strange dream with Ervesa, and then the two of them set out along with the terrible possibly-Daedric pilgrim and more armed reinforcements into the Red Mountain region, to complete the pilgrimage to the Shrine of Pride.

Let's see how that's going.



Under other circumstances, the journey might have seemed anticlimactic. Nothing jumped out to attack us from the darkness. There was no sign there was anything out there other than us at all, in fact. I could imagine Masalinie scoff at the amount of unnecessary drama we'd injected these proceedings with.

I wasn't scoffing. For one, I believed in following the lead of experts in an unfamiliar situation, and all the inhabitants of Ghostgate were on edge, hands on their weapons and eyes darting around. They clearly thought there was a threat. For another, even with the Ghostfence hidden behind a hill I still felt watched...

Correction: I felt watched again. The eyes on me at Ghostfence had been eerie, true, but underneath that had been a sense of... protectiveness, almost. As though I were a child and they were the guardian, willing to let me walk on my own but ready to catch me if I should fall.

(Easy there. We'll take care of this.)

That sensation was definitely gone. The one that replaced it felt more as though I was wandering beneath the maw of a great beast and it was deciding whether to see how I tasted. The skin on my upper back crawled to the point where I suspected my shoulder-blades were trying to make a bid for freedom. Bringing my shoulders up to my ears helped only a little.

All in all, I breathed a little sigh of relief when we reached the triangular shrine, and sent up a quiet prayer of gratitude to whichever god had made certain it was only a short distance away from Ghostgate. I did not want to go traipsing through this region any longer than necessary.

I didn't know if it was my imagination, but the stone seemed to be shining with a faint gold luminescence in the gloom.

"All right," Rich Boy whispered. He and his compatriots hadn't approached the shrine. Instead, they spread to form a loose ring around it, eyes staring out into the gloom around us. "Pilgrims, perform the rite. Adryn, you go first."

"What? I've journeyed here all the way from-" I'd known the way the Daedra had been quiet all the way had been too good to last.

"Rule one, pilgrim." The words, though quiet, cracked like a whip. "If you can't follow it, we return now."

I swore I could hear the woman's teeth grind from here. In other circumstances, I might have stopped to enjoy the sound. However, any temptation to gloat was more than eclipsed by the desire to get this over with so we could get back to Ghostgate as soon as possible.

The way my breath started coming easier and the sensation of hostile eyes on my back died down the closer I got to the shrine was definitely not my imagination.

I dug into my pouch. Seeing as I hadn't, actually, been planning to visit Ghostgate when I left town, I hadn't come prepared. Thankfully, Ervesa had had a soul gem and been willing to give it up for the sake of my spiritual journey. Now, I dropped the small gleaming stone into the bowl in front of the shrine.

Ervesa had also taught me the appropriate prayer. Well, one of them. Apparently the traditional one had actual stanzas, but at some point (potentially when this trip became life-threatening) Vivec had shown mercy and started accepting an abbreviated version.

"I honour your pride and ask for your blessing," I whispered. For some strange reason, I was having a much easier time dredging up the feelings of respect and awe than at the shrine at the High Fane. I was sure it had nothing to do with the fact that today had driven home very thoroughly that Vivec, Almalexia and Sotha Sil were the reason why the whole island hadn't been overrun by...

...I was really hoping I'd finish out the day without learning how that sentence ended.

The glow of the shrine brightened, the soul gem echoing it. The light grew stronger, joined, rose up to wind around me-

When I blinked the light was gone, and the soul gem with it. But my mind felt sharper and clearer than before, the wellspring of magicka within me stronger. Part of me was tempted to try my Detection spell again to see if there'd be a difference. I suspected that this was the same part that would occasionally suggest mixing volatile ingredients together at random to see what would happen. In any case, my self-preservation instinct quashed it within seconds.

"Next," came the voice from behind me.

I'd barely stepped to the side when the Daedra in disguise was in my previous spot in front of the shrine. She dropped to her knees, hands outstretched, a soul gem cupped in them.

My eyes narrowed. The soul gem was far larger than the petty one Ervesa had given me. In fact, it looked very much like the grand gem I'd seen on Galbedir's desk weeks ago... with one significant difference. Instead of the crystalline pale blue or gold I was familiar with, this one was solid black.

In one respect it was the same as Galbedir's, though. The shimmering flame in its depths that told me it was full.

For all her urgency, the Daedra laid the strange gem into the shrine-bowl with exquisite care, as though afraid it might shatter if handled wrongly. Then she bowed her head, twisted her hands together, and began to pray.

Or, I realised as I heard her low words, to beg.

"Vivec. God, or whatever you are. Please set her free. Please, I'll do anything-"

The light gathered more slowly this time, and it didn't reach out to the woman the way it had to me. Instead, it grew stronger and stronger around the soul gem, as though a miniature sun had come to earth through the gloom. I found myself squinting against the brilliance, struggling to keep myself from squeezing my eyes shut. Something was happening here, and I wanted to know what it was-

A loud bang made me jerk back - which turned out to be a very good thing as something small shot just past the tip of my nose. The gem, I realised after a moment, had exploded with enough force one of the shards had almost struck me.

The light was still there, though, rising up from the now-empty basin. It shifted, spread, took on form-

For a bare moment, I saw the shape of a woman outlined in glowing pinpricks, as though a hundred thousand fireflies had come together. From the corner of my eye, I could see the kneeling Imperial stretch out a hand towards her, raw relief and yearning written on her face so clearly I could read it despite the cloth wrapped around the bottom half of her face.

"Thank you, thank you-"

With my next breath, the figure dissolved, the sparks growing ever fainter as they drifted heavenward.

When they were gone, the gloom around us seemed even darker and more foreboding than before. Perhaps it was just that I'd just thoroughly lost my night vision, but I no longer saw any sort of light – real or imagined – around the shrine. The sensation of eyes on my back had returned as well, and this time the great beast was awake and hungry.

"What in Oblivion was that?"

The words echoed those in my mind. The tone, however, did not – there was no awe or confusion in that harsh whisper, only accusation.

My companion straightened. "I freed her, obviously."

All right. Judging by the display of actual emotion earlier it seemed my theory was wrong and the woman was not, in fact, a Daedra in disguise... but who could blame me for my misconception? The sheer amount of haughtiness she was radiating was positively superhuman.

"That's not what I meant." Rich Boy, on the other hand, was clearly getting angry. "I told you yesterday evening that this isn't a war expedition! You-" The Armiger's voice cut off. After a moment, he spat out, "Back to Ghostgate. Now."

The cautious crawl we'd kept up on the journey to the shrine was gone, replaced by something on the verge of a run. I fell in next to Ervesa, legs burning from the strain. "What's going on?" I whispered.

She didn't turn her head to look at me, eyes fixed out into the darkness, and for a moment I thought she wasn't going to answer. Then the reply came, a low murmur out of the side of her mouth.

"She used the shrine ritual to free a soul. It's permitted, but only when you're accompanied by a full party of guards, not a scouting group like ours. Because it's a lot more attention-grabbing than the blessing ritual, see? Now every creature within miles knows we're here."

I considered that piece of information.

On second thought, I could definitely move faster than this.

Ghostgate was in sight and I was starting to think we'd make it back with nothing but a scare when the attack came.

It happened very suddenly. One moment I was looking towards the glowing blue line of the Ghostfence with relief, the next some deeply-seated instinct had me on the ground before my conscious mind could react. Now, ordinarily I very thoroughly disapproved of my body doing things without my input, but in this case the hiss of a spell passing over my head left me more than willing to make an exception.

"Defensive formation!" Rich Boy's bark was dim to my ears, deafened by the sound of my pounding heart. Gritty ash clung to my fingers as I scrambled to my feet, eyes searching the gloom to our side for the origin of that spell.

There. A spark of mage-light illuminated a strange figure. The fact that it seemed to be standing upright and the robes it was wearing said it was a person... except that even the most hulking Nord didn't have shoulders that broad, and the red light reflected off-

Well. Judging by the shifting tendrils, suffice it to say that whatever was under its hood, I didn't think face was the correct term.

A whisper interrupted me, from what I suddenly realised was a patch of darker shadow between me and the figure. Shifting ash-

-the sound, I realised with a terrible sinking feeling, of something readying itself for a leap.

Something too close for me to dodge.

Time slowed down.

I'd heard of one's life flashing before one's eyes before. It seemed to be a mainstay of a particular type of trashy adventure novel, and I'd always been skeptical of the concept, had thought it an exaggeration used for narrative effect more than anything real. Now...

Well, I was about to die, but at least there was a silver lining: I was about to die being right. No flashing was happening. I was not seeing any scenes from my past take shape. Instead, I only saw a giant mouth full of fangs growing steadily larger, rapidly enough I could already tell I wouldn't have enough time to pull out my birthsign. I'd have to crow about it to Ingerte in the afterlife once I got there, which I expected to happen in... oh... three seconds or so.

"Adryn!"

Something hot and bright sped past my face, so close I thought I could feel my hair singeing. The fireball hit the Blighted alit head-on, flinging it back. For a moment, I thought it would struggle back to its feet to resume the attack, but a second fireball put paid to that. After a few helpless twitches, the thing lay still.

I chanced a look backwards. Some twenty or so feet away, Ervesa stood, sword in one hand, the other outstretched. In front of her was a ghost.

I had to admit at this point that I didn't have much experience with the undead, seeing as I was (I liked to think) of a sensible bent overall, the sort who preferred to stay well away from the sort of places they might frequent. The fact that my streak of avoidance had been broken with my visit to the ancestral tomb was very shameful, and I hoped to regain it as soon as possible. All the same, even for a novice this was not a hard identification to make. Something about the way the woman was transparent, glowing slightly, and hovering a little over the ground instead of standing on it. Oh, and the fact that just now she'd swirled the hem of her ornate robes right through a rock.

Mage robes, they were, even if the style was one I'd expect to see in a history book rather than on the street, and the ghost had her hands up in a classic caster's position. There was an expression of fierce concentration on her face...

A face that looked rather like Ervesa's, come to think of it.

There were times you could have really used a ghost showing up to throw fireballs at people on your behalf.

Well. I suspected I'd just discovered what, exactly, an ancestral guardian was.

My sense of self-preservation – which must have been shocked into silence by my close call earlier – came back to life. It informed me that it apologised whole-heartedly for its lapse, but there was no need to worry as it was now back to its usual, robust self. As a welcome back gift, it would like to point out that I was currently standing in the middle of a dangerous wasteland while we were under active attack, and in lieu of staring at Ervesa's grandmother or whoever she was I should perhaps consider alternate courses of action. Like, oh, running.

As if on cue, the ghost's gaze slid away from me to focus on what I suspected was the tentacle-faced monster. Her brow furrowed, and red light began to gather between her palms.

Behind it, something snarled.

I legged it.



Notes: It probably says something about the way I write this fic that I'd been fully intending to keep the dreaded Daedric pilgrim (who *does* exist in-game and *is* precisely that annoying) as a flat joke character and then I turned around and she'd just sprouted a backstory and sympathetic motivations out of nowhere. /o\

Thanks, I am enjoying it, and I'm glad I went all the way back to those early chapters. Perhaps one of these days I'll be able to catch up to everyone else, since I notice you don't post as often.

Ciao.

Chapter 1/4 ... Post 30. What should Adryn do with his stolen possessions? Fortunately this is Morrowind, where no psychic shopkeepers dwell. There you go. Of course, maybe Adryn does not know this yet.

Whoa, Adryn gives the Bosmer his ring. That surprises me, after stealing so much just a few moments ago. Ha.



A-ha! Mm-hmm. I get it now.

This conversation in the Tradehouse is making me grin. You do a really good job of making NPCs who often come across as somewhat two-dimensional to me (with the text dialog) feel three-dimensional.

Next -- Post 37 (that is notes to self...)

What a pleasant excursion into Mordor. Let's hope the Dark Lord is not feeling hungry as Adryn walks beneath his maw...

Oh boy, a black soul gem? Wow. That says more about the "Daedra pilgrim" than anything else.

Oh, the "Daedra" was freeing someone's soul from the gem, not offering it up. Now that is a truly nice touch. What a rollercoaster Adryn's grumpy companion has been. I have been playing Morriwind again lately thanks to you and Renee, so I know the annoying pilgrim these last few episodes have featured. I have to say I love how you took her from a simple annoyance to someone we can feel empathy for.

There were times you could have really used a ghost showing up to throw fireballs at people on your behalf.
Now this is true in every world!

@Renee - And I continue to be glad you're enjoying! (And wow, flash back, it's been a long time since I reread some of the earlier chapters.) I definitely had fun trying to put a little logic into "operation: steal everything that's not nailed down", and the consequences! I... will also admit that her giving him the ring back was a little nod at Fargoth, who seems to often get a raw deal in these fics and where I was never quite sure why people disliked him so much. Thank you for the words about the NPCs, it's definitely something I strive for!

@SubRosa - Mordor is a good analogy, yep! And... I now have some weird reflexive reaction where I can't just make a horrible unpleasant NPC be a horrible unpleasant NPC, there has to be depth there. In this case the depth was more sympathetic than I expected it to be! I'm glad you like my version, still highly unpleasant but with more of a reason for it. We're seeing a little more of her here!

Last installment, Adryn completed the pilgrimage at the Shrine of Pride. This turned out more excited than hoped for, with one Daedric (?) pilgrim using the opportunity to free a soul from a gem, which culminated in an attack before they got back to Ghostgate. Thankfully, though, everyone managed to escape mostly unscathed! Let's see how they react...



"Well, that was exciting!"

Ervesa sounded excited, too. Downright chipper, in fact, an impression only strengthened by the way her eyes were gleaming and she was bouncing on the balls of her feet. All in all, it was an emotional state I considered flagrantly inappropriate for just having narrowly escaped from certain death. And I did mean just. The gates had only slammed shut behind us a moment ago! We weren't even inside yet!

I shot Ervesa a narrow-eyed glare, attempting to communicate just how much I was judging her through the power of my eyeballs alone. It did make Ervesa stop bouncing, but given that the look she returned was more filled with confusion than anything else I assumed I wasn't very successful.

"Don't bother," the Redoran woman told me. "She's an Armiger. Completely mad, the lot of them." She glanced over at Spikes, who looked just as improperly happy as Ervesa, then shook her head. "And here I'd been hoping for a nice, quiet patrol."

Redoran lady's glare had far more force than mine, enough that I cringed away from it despite not being the target. The target in question being the one currently standing some feet away deep in hissed conversation with Rich Boy, and apparently, despite the preponderance of evidence, not secretly a Daedra. This realisation had been rather shocking, and I wasn't entirely certain I trusted it. Surely that level of sheer unpleasantness couldn't be created on Nirn alone?

But ever since the scene at the shrine, the woman had changed. Oh, she was still haughty and supercilious, and judging by his expression Rich Boy wasn't having any luck in his attempt at telling her off. But now it was possible to make out sparks of genuine emotion beneath. It was as though she'd surrounded herself by a thick shell, and the destruction of the soul gem had cracked it open, allowing me to make out relief, joy, grief...

Mainly grief.

"You are mad," she was saying, "if you think I would have let her suffer a single moment longer than necessary."

"And your inability to wait two days for us to get a war party together almost got us all killed!"

"But it didn't, did it? And would you really have gone to that effort, for us?" A pause. "For an outlander?"

Her tone was so sharp that I reflexively glanced down to make sure I wasn't bleeding, and she wasn't even talking to me. I had to tamp down a surge of envy; what a weapon for your verbal arsenal! She still owed me for getting her to Ghostgate in the first place – maybe I could ask her to teach me?

Rich Boy drew himself up. "Of course we would have!"

He sounded insulted, indignant. A little too much so, perhaps? It was very easy to declare that of course you would have gone out of your way, of course you would have agreed to do this dangerous thing for this very unpleasant person, after the fact.

Perhaps I was simply too cynical. If so, I and the not-actually-a-Daedra pilgrim were of the same mind. I could tell from her face that she didn't believe him either.

Despite myself, my own anger at her for putting me in danger was dying down. I still didn't know her story, but I thought I'd managed to put together some of the pieces. Someone, this she, had died and her soul had been trapped in the soul gem. (I hadn't even realised that was possible. Why, oh why, did the world seem to think I needed more fodder for my nightmares?) The Shrine of Pride had been the woman's only hope for freeing her.

For freeing someone the woman must have loved a very great deal. With the benefit of hindsight, I could see that love shine through her every action, bring new depths to her desperation, strengthen her urgency, her fear. No wonder she wasn't repentant. No wonder she'd kept pushing to reach the shrine. If it had been Charon or Ingerte-

It was the easiest thing in the world, to imagine myself in her place.

I was, I realised with some amount of horror, on the verge of succumbing to an attack of altruism. And not just any attack, no – one directed at the false Daedra who'd been the bane of my life for the last two days, something which I would have expected would put paid to that sort of thing. I'd managed to reach a new low point, and it was time to remove myself from the situation before I embarrassed myself any further.

"Well!" I chirped. "It looks like they'll be at that for a while, and that they don't need reinforcements. I, for one, would like to get inside and wipe the entirety of this morning from my memory. In absence of a miraculous amnesia draught, I will also accept lunch as a substitute."

Ervesa made a considering noise. "I could do with something to eat..."

Spikes looked tempted, but then shook his head. "Salyn will murder me if I abandon him. I'll wait."

"While I should get started on the reports," Redoran lady said. "Uvoo Llaren will want an explanation for this mess, and it's better it comes from me." She glanced at where Rich Boy and the pilgrim who miraculously wasn't in any way Daedric were engaged in heated discussion. "Or rather, better if it's not in verse. Armigers, honestly."

The two Armigers present and listening looked as though they were about to take offense. I decided to preempt them.

"Well, that works out great! Because as it so happens, Ervesa and I need to have a private conversation. Don't we?"

Ervesa gulped.



At this time of day the common area of the Tower of Dusk was nearly deserted, making it possible to find a quiet corner where the two of us could talk without being overheard. Ervesa followed me obediently without making a break for freedom even once, although judging by her expression the idea had been sorely tempting. She was looking at me the way I would look at an angry Daedroth, which smarted. I wanted her to look at me like-

All right, I didn't know how I wanted Ervesa to look at me, but I knew this wasn't it.

"Seriously," the words escaped me, "how can you shrug off being attacked by wild beasts and whatever that tentacle-headed thing was like it's nothing, and then be terrified of a simple conversation?"

Ervesa quirked an eyebrow. "How can you be so worried about a simple combat situation but just open yourself up to argument and mockery as though it's nothing?"

It was clearly going to take some effort for us to find common ground on this topic.

But that was fine. I had time, this particular disagreement didn't have to be solved today.

What I did have to tackle today was something else.

I'd let myself dodge the topic this morning, still muddled from my realisation followed by my dream. I had to admit I didn't feel any less muddled now. Quite the contrary. So many things had happened in the past two days, and now they all blended together. Ervesa, hands twisting together, unable to meet my eyes. A ghostly hand on my shoulder in a dream, mirrored by a ghost in reality, hand outstretched in defense. The desperate, hopeless love on the pilgrim's face. A shattering soul gem, a fireball streaking past my face, a figure limned in golden light, a whisper-

If you're ever ready to stop running, I'll be here.

Was that what I'd been doing, really? And here Ervesa was praising me for courage.

No, I still didn't know what I wanted, not from Ervesa, not from my ancestor, not from my past. But I did know I couldn't leave things like this.

"Look. I still think you should be honest to your comrades about the way you feel. I think in the long run it'd be easier and make you happier than pretending. And I'm still not happy about the way you dragged me into your story without asking if I was all right with it." Ervesa flinched. I had to suppress my own, echoing her in sympathy. It had been a lot easier to see Ervesa unhappy before I'd realised how I felt. "But..."

I inhaled. I still wasn't sure about the next part. But I had to say something.

"For now, if it's easier for you? You can pretend we're together. I give you permission."

For a moment, Ervesa just blinked at me, as if she wasn't sure she'd understood me correctly. Then she smiled, wide and beaming, like a sunrise in her face.

My heart, traitorous thing that it was, skipped a beat. I informed it very sternly that this was unacceptable. I had seen Ervesa smile before, many times. The thing she was smiling about wasn't something I thought was a good idea. Going into histrionics over her facial expression was not just unnecessary but uncalled for. It was bad enough I'd been subjected to the indignity of having a crush in the first place – I refused to entertain romance novel heroine behaviour on top of it.

"You mean it?"

"I do."

Judging by the way it was speeding up, my heart had completely ignored everything I'd told it. We were going to have to have words later.

I reminded myself that the reason for this decision hadn't been to make Ervesa happy. Her happiness was an incidental, unimportant – unimportant! - side effect. No, the reason had simply been that-

-well-

-I'd definitely had one, that was the point, and it had been logical and objective and well-thought-out. Something to do with solidarity, maybe? Just because in this moment I couldn't seem recall it, just because right now it felt like making Ervesa smile was reason enough, didn't mean that that had actually been why I did it. That would be ridiculous, I told myself sternly.

"Thank you," Ervesa said now, still smiling. It would make things a lot easier on me if she'd stop. (I didn't want her to stop). "I- I am sorry, you know. I didn't mean for... all this to happen." She gestured vaguely.

"I forgive you," my mouth said with no input from any rational part of my brain whatsoever. I was rewarded-

-punished, punished, this was definitely a punishment-

-by her smile widening.

"Will you be at Ghostgate long?" In desperation, I seized on the first change of subject that came to mind. "Your colleagues said something about Armigers at your level not usually being stationed here."

Ervesa nodded. "It's changed because we need more manpower than before." Thinking back to the events of the morning, I decided I didn't need to ask why. "But Captain Omayn isn't willing to cancel the wandering-years entirely. My rotation here finishes in two months, after that I'm back to independent work. We can catch up in Ald'ruhn then."

My stomach had absolutely no business falling at that statement. My stomach should be staying at exactly the elevation I told it to. Anything else was rebellion and I would not tolerate it.

"I assume you're heading back to Ald'ruhn soon?" Ervesa asked.

Oh, no, I'm planning to hang out at the horrifying fortress under assault by tentacle-faced monstrosities.

Although it was good to know that I hadn't lost all my usual intellectual faculties, I decided discretion -- or rather, lack of sarcasm -- was the better part of valour here. "I am." A pause. "Well, as soon as I figure out how to get back through the Ashlands with minimal risk of death."

For the thousandth time, I cursed the fact that none of the old Chimer fortresses were built a little closer to civilization. Although I'd taken its propylon index with me and could therefore teleport to Hlormaren whenever I wanted, Jamie and I had had enough issues with hostile beasts in the swamps between there and Balmora that I didn't think it was much of an improvement over trying to make my way back from Ghostgate. As such, I was only planning to use it in an emergency. The other indices I'd left in my cupboard in the Ald'ruhn dorms -- Indoranyon was, after all, even worse in terms of location and Falasmaryon didn't even bear thinking about.

Ervesa blinked at me. "Oh! I forgot you wouldn't know."

That sounded promising. "Know what?"

"Ghostgate gets supplies delivered once a week by silt strider, from Ald'ruhn. The next arrival should be tomorrow. It's not an official passenger route, but the caravaneer is usually very obliging if you ask to be taken along -- especially on the return journey."

Had I really managed to miss an entire strider platform all this time? The things weren't exactly unobtrusive, seeing as they needed to be built at least ten feet into the air... and yet all signs were pointing to yes. It was possible my situational awareness needed some work. Or perhaps the not-a-Daedra pilgrim had, in fact, been just that distracting.

I thought for a moment, then decided to blame it on the pilgrim. Although I'd developed a lot more sympathy for her after learning why she'd been so stressed, that only went so far.

"Well," I said, "that sounds a lot more promising than how I thought I'd have to travel back. I'll just hope we have no ash storms in the next few days, shall I?"

So it was possible my experiences in Maar Gan had left me a little mistrustful of the robustness of the strider network. No judge could possibly blame me.

Ervesa cast me a wry look. "I'm guessing you won't be reassured by me telling you that that was really a very unusual situation and I've never experienced the network breaking down like that before. So instead, I'll say that if we do have issues with the strider, we'll arrange something to get you back." A pause. "We won't just leave you stranded. I promise." Her eyes met mine, ruby gaze filled with sincerity.

They should really let the fire die down a little, I decided. It was far too hot in here, or at least that was the only explanation I would entertain for why my cheeks felt flushed.

"Thanks, Ervesa." The fire got mysteriously warmer. "I. I should go- pack. Yes! Pack."

Ervesa blinked at me, looking a little bemused. "All right, you do that. I'll grab something to eat and then find Taluro to help her with the reports." Her brows twisted. "I know she said she didn't want any rhyme, but I really think the severity of the attack would be best conveyed in a sonnet..."

The fact that that seemed endearing was proof of what I'd always suspected: having a crush rotted your brain. It was possible it was a proximity-based effect, in which case the best thing for me to do would be to remove myself from Ervesa's vicinity as soon as possible to prevent further decomposition.

"You do that!" I squeaked out and fled.

Well, I thought once I'd retreated to my room. I had a small list of things to do now. For instance, verify with someone exactly when the strider should be arriving. Pack, as I'd told Ervesa I was going to do (even if this was a task that admittedly would not take very long, given that I hadn't exactly left Balmora prepared for a long journey). Get lunch myself, which I'd completely forgotten about during our conversation and which my stomach was now reminding me it had been promised earlier. However, all of these were definitely lower in priority than the first item on my list:

Find somewhere I could drown myself out of sheer embarrassment.

I don't think Adryn is having a crush at all! Crush? What crush?

Brilliant!

Also I must confess - I would prefer facing tentacle-faced monstrosities to have a conversation.

I guess the Unpleasant One decided that it was better to beg forgiveness after the fact, than to ask permission ahead of time. I can see her point. Not that she's exactly begging.

I was, I realised with some amount of horror, on the verge of succumbing to an attack of altruism.
Oh, Divines forbid!

I am looking forward to some privacy with Ervesa too. Urm, for a conversation, sure. Somehow I expect that Adryn will be the one squirming however. It must not be easy being Ace, but at the same time having an attraction like the one she has for Ervesa.

Somehow I missed that silt strider platform too. Unless it is the little camp on the east side of the foyada.

@Renee - Crush? There is no crush here. None at all. Pay no attention to the blushing Adryn behind the curtain. (And I, too, have some sympathy for Ervesa here!)

@SubRosa - I really did want that scene to be ambiguous. The Unpleasant One (what a title!) is *genuinely* haughty, unfriendly, and disinclined to ask for permission for the things she wants. All the same, she had a very noble cause and she has a very good reason to think permission wouldn't have been granted. (Or not granted in time - tbh I never worked out why that two-day time limit was in place but it definitely was.)

...it is possible the strider platform is invisible and intangible in the game .

And yeah, I admit that Adryn's experience re: being ace with a crush is kinda-sorta drawn from mine. It is, in fact, hugely confusing when you tick half the boxes your culture says are prerequisites for romantic interest but not the other half. Especially since Adryn doesn't have the benefit of an ace community who has done a ton of the conceptual heavy lifting for her.

Last installment, Adryn and Ervesa talked. Now, it's time to finally say goodbye to Ghostgate.



Unfortunately, locations appropriate for drowning oneself turned out to be hard to come by in the middle of the ash-ridden wilderness. Not only was there no river, no lake, no ocean, not even the underground hot springs common in Morrowind cities, but the wash-rooms were bereft of bath-tubs and the buckets provided for one's ablutions were too small for one's head. This left my plans to escape my own humiliation once and for all thrown awry and so, when the following day and with it the time to keep an eye out for a silt strider appearing on the horizon arrived, I was in fact still breathing.

There were upsides to my survival, however. One of them found me in the form of beautiful, wonderful, cold hard cash.

"I suppose you did get me to my destination all right." The definitely-not-a-Daedra pilgrim sounded distinctly grudging, but given that she'd still handed over the half-septim coin I wasn't going to complain. Especially since...

"You could have told me why you wanted to go there, you know. I wouldn't have given you as much of a hard time."

I'd tried to convince myself that, given that the woman had been incredibly rude from almost the instant I agreed to her request and had not given any sign that she was grieving, it was perfectly understandable that I'd been rude back. No, there was absolutely no need to feel guilty at all, I told myself repeatedly.

It didn't stop me.

The woman sniffed. Given that we were of an height, it was truly amazing how strongly she managed to give the impression of looking down her nose at me. "And what business was it of yours? I shouldn't need to explain my circumstances to hired help."

All right, that comment did make the guilt die down some. Hired help, I ask you.

"Right. Thanks so much." In deference to her grief, I resisted giving the sharper side of my tongue free rein and contented myself with, "I'm sorry for your loss, and I sincerely hope I never see you again in my life."

Judging by the very Daedra-like expression the woman wore, the feeling was mutual. Thank Azura she was staying at Ghostgate for a little longer (why, I neither knew nor cared) and would not be accompanying me on the strider. It was a miracle we'd managed to avoid attempted murder this far -- better not to test that fact, especially by spending hours sitting next to a steep drop in shoving distance of each other.

She wasn't the only one I ended up bidding farewell. After a quick goodbye to Spikes and Tattoos in the morning, I discovered that my nickname of "Rich Boy" was, in fact, extremely accurate when the man caught me and asked me to convey his best wishes to his uncle Athyn in Ald'ruhn. Now that I thought about it, there had been something about a Buoyant Armiger cousin of Varvur's in the middle of all that mess, hadn't there? I'd probably repressed the memory as it contained far too much Varvur to be safe for the long-term.

In any case, I hastily agreed to bear the message and made my escape. Rich Boy made it sound like he was on good terms with his uncle, which meant they might have talked. About me. And although usually I'd have dismissed that sort of thought as excessive pride or paranoia, since recent events had proven that people were in fact gossiping about me behind my back I figured it was best to flee the vicinity and avoid him for the rest of the life. A perfectly proportional response, in my opinion.

The final goodbye was, of course, to Ervesa.

She accompanied me out to the platform when the strider came into view -- the only one to do so. I got the impression the other Armigers were giving us the space for a long, heartfelt, tearful lovers' farewell. They'd no doubt have been disappointed by the reality, but I, for one, appreciated not having them around. Even if I'd agreed to the deception for Ervesa's sake, I was hardly comfortable with it. The fact that I no longer knew exactly which parts of the deception I wanted to be untrue made the whole thing even worse. All in all, it was good to be seen off without worrying about what prying eyes and wagging tongues were making of the whole thing.

"Be careful, would you? Now that I won't be available for rescuing until my rotation at Ghostgate is over." Ervesa also seemed more relaxed now that we were alone. I could have handled this better if her relaxation diddn't come with a side of teasing.

"I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself-"

"-evidence says otherwise-"

"-but if you insist, I'll get Jamie to come along the next time I need to go out of town."

Being in- having a crush, I quickly corrected myself, was terrible for your backbone. Ordinarily, I'd have been able to defend myself, I was sure. Point out how a perfectly understandable run of misfortune did not mean I was reckless or needed looking after. Unfortunately, ever since the other day Ervesa just had to give me her disappointed look and I folded. It was downright embarrassing, and I was glad I'd be safe from it for the next several months, when she wouldn't be able to just drop in on me at Ald'ruhn.

Definitely glad, I told myself. The sinking sensation in my stomach was mere coincidence. It wasn't as if my life would in any way feel empty without her, not like I was going to miss her with all the force of a love song, or perhaps a sugartooth in need of a fix. I was a sensible, independent adult who was above that sort of behaviour.

If I needed to remind myself of that on a regular basis, so what?

"And you take care of yourself, too." I blurted out the sentence more to distract myself from my thoughts than anything, but the instant after I realised that it was, if anything, more necessary than her telling me the same thing. "Keep an eye out and don't be stupid about things. If you get eaten by kagouti or... whatever else is out there... before we see each other again, I'll be very disappointed in you."

The grin fell off Ervesa's face, leaving her looking almost solemn. I squirmed as I realised she'd heard the genuine worry behind my worries. "I will." A quirk of the lips. "I don't particularly want to get myself killed either. I'd be sad if I couldn't see you again, for one."

Heat in my cheeks, again. Maybe I should get myself checked for Blight, because that had been happening a lot over the past few days.

Our gazes caught, held. Ervesa's eyes were dark, serious, filled with... with...

I could feel something bubble up within me. An impulse, growing from stray thought to desire to compulsion, completely detached from logic or reason. The same way that one might find oneself bizarrely tempted to stick a finger into the fire to see if it burned, I wanted nothing but to open my mouth and say-

"Hey. Ervesa. I-"

"Oi! Lovebirds!"

I jerked back from Ervesa- and since when had we been standing so close, anyway?

"If one of you wants a ride, she'd better quit it with the staring into each other's eyes and help me unload!"

While we'd been talking, the strider had reached the platform. Judging by the gimlet eye the caravaneer was giving us, the woman was not inclined to let us finish our farewell in peace. Never to mention that she had entirely the wrong idea-

Sanity came back in a rush, and I decided that wrong idea or not, I was grateful for the interruption. I didn't know what Daedric impulse had seized me just now -- didn't even fully know what exactly I'd been about to say to Ervesa -- but it had been a terrible one. The time for talking to her about (I internally shuddered) my feelings would be after I understood what said feelings were. Or never. How about never.

"Shall we?" I asked Ervesa.

Unloading went quickly, especially when others came out to help. Judging by the caravaneer's muttering, it still wasn't fast enough for her, and once all the crates were on the platform I barely had time for more than a quick "See you in a few months!" before she'd hustled me onto the strider. Something about being behind schedule, judging by her grumbling. I was distracted by other things.

Turning away from Ervesa hurt, as though something had grown between us and I was tearing it out by the roots. Grimly, I forced myself to ignore the feeling, keeping my face still until Ghostgate was just a smudge against the Ghostfence and Ervesa's tiny figure was well and truly no longer visible.

Two months apart, I decided, would be just right. Time enough to investigate what on Nirn I was feeling without Ervesa's presence confusing the matter (where by "the matter" I meant "me"). At the end of two months, I'd definitely have figured out what I actually wanted from her. At that point I'd be able to talk to her about it -- or, alternatively, get over it.

I knew which of the two I was rooting for.



End of chapter

I hate to point out that Adryn could drown herself in a lake of lava...

Hired help. She really is committed to being The Unpleasant One.

All these names keep bringing back memories of older Morrowind stories. Like Athyn. I am looking them up in the Wiki to refresh my memories. Yep, Adryn was spot on in naming him "Rich Boy". Daddy is a Councilor of House Redoran.

I am smiling as Adryn insists how much she is *not* going to miss Ervesa. Nope, not one bit!

Thank the Three that Silt Strider showed up when it did. Otherwise Adryn might have done something terribly... feelsy.

@SubRosa - shh, don't give Adryn any ideas. (And yes - making the pilgrim nice, or anything other than Unpleasant, seems like it'd go against the spirit of her in-game self! I just wanted her to be unpleasant *but* still have sympathetic motivations.)

Salyn Sarethi is proobably some nephew of Athyn's, because elsewhere I've noted that Varvur (Athyn's son) only has a little sister for siblings and has a cousin in the Armigers. Given his uncle's position, I think Rich Boy is still going to be accurate!

Praise the strider for rescuing us from *gasp* emotions! Adryn certainly is...



"Well," Jamie said as the gates of Balmora came into view, "that wasn't as productive as I hoped." Her voice was mild, but I could hear the frustration beneath it. No wonder – it was frustration I shared.

After getting back from Ghostgate, I'd decided that blackmail or no blackmail, I was staying within city walls for the time being. Between Habasi and cliff racers, I'd take Habasi. The resolution had lasted over a week until Ranis had taken me aside, asking me to escort a scholar to Pelagiad. My initial confusion -- in what way, shape or form did I look like a bodyguard? -- cleared up as she went on: what Ranis was actually interested in were this Itermerel's research notes. Whether he reached his destination safely or not was less of a priority.

In fact, if I'd been forced to say, I suspected that Ranis' preference would be that Itermerel not make it to his destination safely. There would definitely have needed to be force involved for me to admit that, though. I'd spent our conversation ignoring that particular subtext with all the strength I had to spare, meeting the pointed remarks about how dangerous the wilds of Vvardenfell were these days with as much studied obliviousness as I could dredge up. Just because Ranis had decided to take the concept of cut-throat academic rivalries literally didn't mean she could get me involved.

All things told, my first stop after Ranis had given me my orders had not, in fact, been the inn where Itermerel was staying, but the Redoran free housing complex for members on House business in Ald'ruhn. I'd been in luck – Jamie had been in, and very agreeable when I asked her if she'd mind an unpaid escort job. The fact that I'd suggested we could use the opportunity to collect some ingredients had probably helped.

Which was where the frustration came in.

"Sorry, Jamie," I told her now. "I'm new to this area, I'm not familiar with the climate – I didn't realise what things would be like this time of year."

The last time we'd gone out together had been well into Sun's Dusk, and after still coming away with a nice haul, I'd simply assumed that Vvardenfell's climate was mild enough to make work as an apocethary feasible year-round. Assumed wrongly, it seemed. We were now past the halfway mark in Evening Star, Saturalia around the corner, and the cold had finally set in to the point where it had driven the plants into winter sleep. I'd barely pulled out my ingredient vials once this trip, and even the fact that Itermerel had rewarded me with the desired copy of his research notes couldn't quite chase the bitter taste out of my mouth. I could see my main stream of income drying up for the coming months and I didn't like it at all.

"Not your fault." Jamie sighed. "Although I could really have used the money."

"Well, I might still get a reward from Ranis for the notes. I'd split it, naturally." And if there wasn't one forthcoming – it wouldn't be the first time – I'd pretend there had been, I decided. I got some money from the Ta'agra lessons, and Habasi was scrupulous about rewarding me for the occasional missions she forced me into. Apparently she considered blackmail to be fine but forcing people to work without pay one step too far. In any case, although I could see some lean months ahead without the supplement from ingredient-hunting, I was still better off than Jamie. From what she said, Redoran liked to pay its members in compliments and warm feelings.

"Here's hoping." Jamie sighed. "I wish transport to the mainland was still open. Neminda says it's much warmer in Deshaan this time of year."

The longer I spent trapped on Vvardenfell by the quarantine, the more one lesson was driven home: you never knew what you had until it was gone. To think that once upon a time, I'd taken the ability to just board a ship and leave for granted.

"Speaking of our current public health crisis, we're almost at the gates. Got all your information ready?"

Jamie groaned.

In order to prevent the spread of Blight, the Ebonheart Grand Council had decreed that all travellers approaching a city should be screened for infection and immediately quarantined if there was any reason to suspect they might be ill. On the surface, I had to admit this sounded sensible. With a dangerous contagious disease purportedly spreading on the island, who wouldn't want to be careful?

The problem was that there were no good diagnostic spells for the Blight, meaning that the screening in question took the form of a series of questions. Have you encountered a Blighted animal in the last week? Have you had a fever? A rash? Nausea or vomiting? Have you had contact with anyone who showed these symptoms? And so on and so forth.

The questionnaire, rumour had it, had been devised by a Temple healer researching the Blight, one who lived in some remote town in the Grazelands. I believed it. The thing was thorough, professional, covered all the scenarios in which one might become infected, and showed absolutely no understanding of the implications of forcing every traveller to a bustling trade hub like Balmora to answer it in full. The last time I'd spent three hours waiting in line at the city gates, and by the time I finally made it to the Mages' Guild I'd been ready to send the author a letter begging him to please develop an abridged version.

Although...

My eyes narrowed.

I didn't actually see a line, this time. And although there was certainly foot traffic through the gates, although I could see that everyone was waved aside by the guards, it looked like they were allowed to continue after a brief talk, with no sheets of parchment or quill and ink visible anywhere.

Had the healer finally seen reason? Had the endless questionnaire lost its defining adjective?

It seemed we were about to find out.

At first, everything went as before, the gate guard waving Jamie and me aside. However, this time the Temple healer wasn't armed with notebooks and writing implements. And although I knew Telis by now, today he'd been joined by a woman, one in robes fancy enough to make clear she was no Temple priest. A woman who was completely unfamiliar-

That thought rang false. Those features definitely reminded me of something. Dark hair tied back in a braid, nose on the verge of being too big for the face, steeply angled wine-red eyes currently narrowed in concentration. No, I'd seen her before... but where?

Before I finished digging through the dusty crevices of my memory, the woman dragged me out of my thoughts. "They're clean," she said in Dunmeris.

At her side, Telis frowned. "I still don't understand how you're getting that out of a detection spell."

"It's not exactly a detection spell." The woman's voice had a tired air that told me this wasn't the first time she'd said this. Then she glanced over at me. "Did you want something?"

Her frown made the memory snap into place.

"Alfe Fyr?"

Even as the words escaped me, I began to feel less certain. The features looked right, but the woman I'd met back on Tel Fyr had seemed much... haughtier, more severe. And where had her glass armour gone?

And indeed, the woman was shaking her head. "Ah, that's my sister. I'm Beyte, pleased to meet you." She followed the introduction with a smile that made it extremely obvious that the same face could nevertheless look very different depending on who was behind it. At least, judging by my interactions with Alfe Fyr her face would probably crack in half if she tried any such expression.

"Adryn," I introduced myself. "Sorry to-" what was the word for 'eavesdrop' again? "-listen on you, I heard you talk about magic and couldn't resist. I'm a member of the Mages' Guild, after all."

"Are you now," Beyte murmured, giving me a once-over. I frowned, fighting the urge to take a step back. Guild members weren't that rare, especially not in Balmora, after Ranis Athrys' recruitment strategies. I had no idea why that fact was making her look at me with so much interest, but I knew I didn't like it.

"Beyte Fyr's... family have been working on Blight research," Telis decided to join the conversation. "They've developed diagnostic spells, which she has kindly offered to teach." Judging by his sour expression, never to mention the bit of conversation I'd overheard, the teaching part hadn't been going all that well.

"I said I'd try," Beyte corrected with a sigh. "But I was never too hopeful of success. It's... at first sight, the spells look much like Mysticism, but they're different in the nasharduth. The base, the ground they build on," she expanded in response to my puzzled look. "They're very hard to teach to someone trained primarily in Mysticism, who has no knowledge of the other school."

My ears pricked. That...

Detection spells that weren't quite detection spells. That others couldn't learn. That could detect Blight.

Like I'd detected the Blighted guar, back when I was scouting with Gelduin for the caravan.

Could that really be a coincidence? Something deep within me was whispering no.

"Really?" I asked, doing my best to keep my voice casual. "I'm interested to hear more about it. I've had... odd experiences with Mysticism, especially detection spells." What a shame I didn't know the words for 'learning disability'. How would I ever manage without this lack. I supposed I just wouldn't be able to mention it, how terrible.

Beyte gave me another long, considering look. "Well... why not. Not right now – I'm busy, and it looks like you are too." She glanced over at where Jamie was beginning to look impatient. "But if you'd like to meet over drinks tonight, I'd like that." She flashed me that bright smile again.

I did my best to respond in kind, although I was clearly missing some natural talent as far as cheerfulness went. "I look forward to it."

That blight is nasty in this game, I don't blame them for trying to find a way to detect it. Good luck with that!

Time for the yearly update soon? (crosses fingers!)

As you wish. Maybe I should pick up some past chapters as well, though I won't clutter up the thread with new posts if I do..

But I've been reading some of the really OLD stories in the Fan Fiction section, went all the way back to 2004 or whatever about a month ago. Quite a different scene back then!