Chapter 7

"Where do we start looking for Thalmor, Madanach?" Tamsyn asked, after signing off from her husband. "You said the Matriarchs had located concentrations of magical power. Where, specifically?"

"Well," the old Reachman mused, "I'm not as familiar with the rest of Skyrim as I am with the Reach, of course. I do know where the Pale Pass is, and there seems to be something going on just to the west of there. There also seems to be pockets of power scattered in the Jeralls along the southern border of Skyrim."

"Da," Kaie said with some exasperation, "we can't go grubbing through each and every league of land between here and the Pale Pass. We don't have the time or the warm bodies to devote to it."

"I know, Daughter, I know," Madanach sighed. "And we can't get too far away from the Reach itself, either, hunting them down."

"Why not?" Tamsyn blinked. This was news to her.

"Our power is drawn from the land," Madanach said, surprised she would ask. "The Old Gods bound us to this land. Bound you, too," he added. "If you want to call on that power, you need to be in the Reach to do it."

"You didn't tell me that before I went through that initiation ceremony!" Tamsyn cried, hotly.

"Yes, well, I didn't think you'd be willing to go through it otherwise," Madanach shrugged, offering a lame smile.

"You lied to me!"

"I didn't lie!" the Reach King frowned. "We're going to be moving quickly through the Reach, all along the southern border where it meets Hammerfell, and that's a lot of territory to cover. It will be so much easier to shadow walk the distances."

"You haven't explained to me yet what this 'shadow walking' does," Tamsyn growled, still irritated with him.

"It's a power we of the Reach have to slip through the gap between here and there," he said. "We enter a sort of shadow realm, where we can cover vast distances in a short amount of time and space."

"It's not without its dangers, though," Kaie warned. "There are shadow creatures there, waiting to ambush the unwary. That's why we generally travel the Shadow Realm in groups, rather than alone. Only the strongest, like Da here, have ever walked those paths on his own."

"Maybe they recognize one of their own," Tamsyn said sourly, and Kaie laughed in delight at the expression on her father's face.

"She got you that time, Da!" she crowed. "Score one for Tamsyn!"

"Very funny," Madanach drawled, in a tone that implied it clearly wasn't. "If you're all done making fun of the old man, perhaps we can get on with teaching Tamsyn the spell that will take her to the Shadow Realm?"

As they took her through the verbal incantation and somatic gestures that would allow her to slip into the Shadow Realm, Tamsyn heard a quiet voice inside her, guiding her along.

*Feel the energy that resides within the land itself, my daughter,* Hithin said. *Let that energy join with you. Focus on allowing it to fill you, as a vessel holds water.*

What if I get the words or the gestures wrong? Tamsyn worried. What happens then?

*One of two things,* Hithin replied truthfully. *Either nothing will happen, or you would become a conduit for the Dark Ones to be unleashed on Mundus.*

So, no pressure or anything, Tamsyn gulped.

*Concentrate, child,* Hithin scolded. *Do not allow the distractions to make you careless. Clear your mind.*

And clear her mind she did. To aid in this, she closed her eyes.

"Hey! You did it!" Madanach exclaimed in delight. "First time, too! It took Kaie several tries."

"Ha ha," Kaie grumbled. "We can't all be perfect."

Tamsyn opened her eyes, and at first, thought there was something wrong with them. She could still see the craggy peaks and rugged terrain of the Reach around her, but it looked as though she was viewing it through a dark filter, or during a permanent total eclipse.

"Where are we?" she asked. "Is this the Shadow Realm? Why does it look like the Reach on a dark day?"

"We're in that place where the shadows all meet," Kaie explained. "That's why it looks dark. It's not so bad right now, when it's day time in the real world, but at night?" She shuddered.

"The shadow creatures are harder to see then," Madanach supplied, when Tamsyn quirked an eyebrow. "Only the desperate or foolhardy travel the Shadow Realm at night."

I wonder which ones we are, then? Tamsyn wondered.

*Wise is the one who questions their place in the world,* said a woman's voice, and all three whirled around to face Hithin, who stood before them.

"Lady Hithin," Madanach murmured reverently, bowing deeply. Kaie had already sunk to her knees. "I should have guessed you would be Tamsyn's patron."

*I see a better future for our land with Tamsyn on our side, Madanach,* Hithin replied, nodding graciously at his gesture of respect. *Rise, Kaie ní Madanach,* she encouraged, and the young Reachwoman gulped and rose slowly, but kept her eyes on the ground.

"To what do we owe this honor, my Lady?" the old Reach King asked respectfully. "The Old Ones don't usually visit us when we travel through here. Or if they do, it's usually only by speaking to us in here." He tapped his temple with one careworn finger.

*Tamsyn is new to our ways,* Hithin shrugged. *I trust you to show her what she needs to know, but I will be watching all of you closely. There is too much at stake to risk otherwise.*

She inclined her head once more and faded from their view.

Madanach blew out a breath. "Well…" he mused. "That doesn't happen every day. There must be something extra special about you, Arch-Mage, that even the Old Ones are sitting up and taking notice."

Tamsyn shrugged helplessly.

"It wouldn't have anything to do with that peculiar hint of power in your blood, would it?" he asked, watching her shrewdly.

"I don't know what you mean," Tamsyn demurred. "Which way should we go?" She made as if to head off in a southerly direction, but Madanach stopped her.

"Oh, no you don't," he muttered, grabbing her arm. He was just as substantial here as he would have been in the overworld. "We aren't going anywhere until you come clean."

"Why does it matter?" Tamsyn demanded angrily. "We have more important things to worry about than some imagined funny taste in my blood!"

"She's right, Da," Kaie urged, confused. "We need to get moving!"

"It matters because I sponsored you!" Madanach growled at Tamsyn. "That means I'm responsible for you in the eyes of the Old Gods. If you mess up, I'm the one who takes the blame for that! And I'm not risking my afterlife because you're too shy or too embarrassed about your past to be honest with me!"

"I'm not embarrassed!" Tamsyn said fiercely. "I'm actually very proud of who I am and what I've become! I just don't think my heritage is important to our mission! You aren't going to die any time soon, in spite of how often you play that card, Madanach."

"You don't know that," he snapped.

"Yes, actually, I do," Tamsyn shot back. "I can sense when there's something 'not right' about a person's body and health. I can tell if they have a disease, a broken bone or a mental disorder. I'm a Healer, Madanach," she simmered, "and a damned good one. I know. And I know for a fact that – short of an unforeseen accident – you're going to live another twenty years, at least. Those years in Cidhna Mine nearly wrecked you, but you came out stronger on the other side, and the healing you received from Maiara, Esmerelda, and the other Matriarchs have just about remedied whatever ailed you. So, don't go making reservations for the afterlife just yet, okay?"

Madanach was silent for a moment, taking it all in. "And it's exactly that kind of knowledge that's so unusual," he said quietly. "No one else can do that. None of the Matriarchs could tell me I'd live longer than a few years at best. But you're telling me you know. All I want to know is…how? How do you know? And don't give me any of that 'I'm a Healer' crap."

*Tell him, child,* Hithin whispered in her mind. *You'll get no rest until you do. His knowledge of your origins may help, rather than hinder, your cause.*

Tamsyn sighed, and Madanach watched her carefully. He saw the slight unfocusing of her eyes, and knew she was being spoken to internally.

"It's…" Tamsyn hesitated, taking a deep breath. "It's because my father is Julianos. That's where my power comes from." After another slight hesitation, and another look inward, she continued. "And because my soul was born in another world, and brought here when I died there."

Of all the things Madanach thought he might have heard, this was not even on the list. He and Kaie listened without comment as Tamsyn explained her unusual background.

"That…wasn't what I was expecting," he admitted. "A game? Really? And all of us merely characters?"

"I'm afraid so," Tamsyn said. "And unfortunately, you weren't even really a main character. More of a…a side quest, actually."

"Well, that's humbling," Kaie said, subdued. "But if it was just a game there, then how could Julianos still be your father?"

"I don't understand it, either," Tamsyn said. "The world I left was one of science and technology. Magic simply didn't exist. And yet, my father managed to breach the barriers between the worlds and came to Gaia searching for Marcus' soul. It was unfortunate for Marcus that Daddy miscalculated and ended up in Gaia almost twenty years too early. But he also didn't account for falling in love with my mother, and having me. He told me he had to wait almost eighty years to bring me back to Nirn."

"It explains a lot to me now," Madanach admitted. "I knew there was something different in the ceremony when I tasted your blood. Even that little bit held so much power. I almost felt drunk!"

Kaie rose and looked around. "We should get moving, Da," she urged. "Distances are shorter here in the Shadow Realm, but we still have a long way to go."

"You're right, Kaie," Madanach said. His fixed his gaze on Tamsyn. "No one will learn of this from me, I promise," he vowed, and Tamsyn felt some of the tension inside her ease. "Kaie?"

His daughter nodded. "No one would believe me if I told them anyway," she shrugged, "but yes…we need to keep this to ourselves. Though I suspect Maiara already knows."

"I wouldn't put it past her," Madanach grinned. "Come on, we'll head for Dead Crone Rock and make our way east from there."

Though the distance to Dead Crone Rock from Bthardamz was several hundred leagues, the three travelers covered the distance swiftly and easily within an hour, arriving as the sun dipped behind the Dragontail Mountains to the west. Matriarch Drascua greeted them warmly.

"It has been a while since the Reach King has graced us with his presence," she scolded as she and Madanach embraced. "To what do we owe this honor?"

"We're hunting Thalmor, Dras," Madanach quipped, though there was a serious tone in his voice, and a look of concern on his face. "Have you noticed anything unusual going on down here? Strange lights? Glimpses of things in the skies that aren't dragons? More warm bodies than usual moving through the mountains?"

"You know that if we had, I would have sent word," Drascua frowned, her beady black eyes narrowing in concentration. "I have several of our people scattered along the ridge, per your instructions. I'm sure they would have let me know by now if there was anything out of the ordinary going on."

"The Dominion might have stepped up their security," Tamsyn offered. "They have skilled mages on their side. They might not be able to tap into the Old Magicks, but we shouldn't discount the fact they may have old Ayleid magic we aren't aware of."

"Tamsyn's right," Madanach nodded. "I know it's asking a lot out of you, Dras," he said kindly, "but could you scry the southern border for us again?"

Drascua sighed, a wheezing, rattling sound deep in her throat. "It will take some time to prepare," she said. "I should have everything ready when Masser is high overhead. In point of fact, that would be the perfect time for remote viewing." She fixed her gaze on Tamsyn.

"You are the one they call 'Arch-Mage'," she stated. It wasn't a question. Tamsyn nodded her head in acknowledgement of her title. "You have recently become one of us, I see," the old Matriarch said shrewdly. "This is good. I have met your husband already…the one called 'Dragonborn.' He is a good man."

"I'm rather fond of him," Tamsyn smiled.

"And your daughter, the one who was returned to you…she will be important in Tamriel's future."

Tamsyn blinked. "Wait – what? 'Returned' to me? What do you mean?"

Drascua gave a deep chuckle. "Did you not know? Have you not divined this for yourself?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Tamsyn protested, but deep inside a suspicion was growing. "And I've been rather busy since…" She stopped, unwilling to reveal anything further to the Matriarch.

"Since you came to Skyrim," finished Drascua. "Then I will tell you." She chuckled again, delighted to know something the famous Arch-Mage of Winterhold didn't even know herself. "Your first-born here was your first-born there." She turned and left Tamsyn gaping in the middle of the redoubt as she went to prepare for the ceremony to come.

A Briar-Heart stepped up to lead them to a pair of wickiups in which to rest. Tamsyn allowed herself to be guided by Kaie, too stunned by this new revelation to react to much else. Madanach gave her a curious stare as he headed to his own shelter, but shrugged and figured he'd find out later what the fuss was all about.

"Tamsyn?" Kaie ventured carefully, pressing her down on a bedroll, and seating herself next to the Arch-Mage. "What did Drascua mean?"

"My baby," Tamsyn whispered softly. "My baby…in my old life…" She took a deep breath to compose herself. Now was not the time to come unglued.

"You told Da and me that you had children in your old world," Kaie shrugged indifferently. "So why is that upsetting you now?"

"No," Tamsyn insisted, shaking her head. "Before I married George and had my son and daughter…there was another child. One I didn't get to keep. I was young and unmarried – something that was frowned upon in my world at that time. I was forced to give my baby up for adoption. And they never let me hold it, or told me if it was a boy or a girl." She closed her eyes and gave a shuddering sigh. "And I'm not upset," she added after a moment. "Not…really…it just took me by surprise that Drascua knew."

"Good," Kaie snorted. "I mean, it's good you're keeping it together, and not letting it get to you."

Tamsyn sighed. "I just wish I could have known then how my baby fared," she shrugged. There was a wealth of longing in her voice.

"Look," Kaie said, perhaps a bit more sharply than she intended. "You can't get all upset regretting things you never knew, and you can't spend your time becoming a rag doll over things you can't change. Whether your baby grew up in a loving home or faced a hard life, doesn't matter now. In the Reach we say, 'brooding about the past can ruin a perfectly good present.' And right now, we all need to stay focused on what's going on." Kaie scowled as Tamsyn stared blindly into the gathering darkness. "For Dibella's sake, Tamsyn! You're the Arch-Mage of the College at Winterhold! What do you think the Thalmor would do if they knew something like this would un-do you?"

Tamsyn stiffened. It wasn't often someone spoke as harshly to her as Kaie was doing now. In the deepest part of her heart, however, she knew the Reachwoman was right. She took a ragged breath and blew it out slowly.

"You're right," she said finally, her voice low and controlled. "I think…somewhere inside me…I always knew there was something about Julia that resonated within me. Something my soul recognized in her. I guess it was just a shock to me that Drascua knew it without even having met me before."

She repositioned herself on her pallet. "We should get some rest," she continued now. "We still have a few hours before Masser is overhead." She met Kaie's eyes in the dimming early evening light. "I'm fine, now, really."

"Good," Kaie nodded, scooting over to her own pallet. "Because you're going to need to have all your wits about you when things start heating up."

"I appreciate the straight talk, Kaie," Tamsyn said sincerely. "Not too many people besides Marcus are brave enough to offer it. I tend to do my own thing, regardless of the advice of my counselors."

"Glad to help," Kaie grinned. "And you really should listen to your advisors more. After all, you put them there for a reason."

Tamsyn nodded at the truth of her words. "It was really your comment about the Thalmor that shook me up," she admitted wryly.

Kaie laughed. "Whatever it takes!"

Shortly before Masser climbed to its zenith, a Briarheart came to their wickiup to waken them and escort them to Drascua. As she had done with Marcus and Dante Greyshadow before them, the Matriarch positioned Madanach, Kaie and Tamsyn around her bubbling cauldron, which gave off a strange plume of purplish smoke. Tamsyn caught the scent of juniper berries, and knew its properties for clearing the mind and sharpening mental acuity.

"Make certain to inhale deeply when I add the final ingredient," Drascua advised. "I would rather that you all see the same things I see, and not just take my word for it."

"Makes sense," Madanach grinned. "Though you know I'd always take your word, Dras."

The Matriarch gave a grimace one could only assume was her version of a smile, and sifting a fine powder over the cauldron. The smoke changed from purple to vermillion in an instant, and Drascua quietly murmured an incantation.

"Now," she said finally, "breathe."

Tamsyn did as she was bade, and Madanach and Kaie followed suit. Though the smoke made her eyes water and her nose sting, Tamsyn felt her mind float away. Her knees wobbled, and a Briarheart behind her caught her easily and lowered her gently into a chair placed nearby.

She could see her awareness slipping away from her body, still slumped in its chair, with Madanach and Kaie nearby.

Quite the experience, isn't it? Madanach's voice quipped, and she felt his presence nearby, though he had no corporeal form. Instead, there seemed to be a blueish, star-like emanation of energy that she knew instinctively was the Reach-King.

It takes some getting used to, Kaie admitted, and Tamsyn was aware of her soothing green starburst. I've only done it a few times before.

Tamsyn found she could still see the redoubt stretched out below them, but a push of her thoughts in one direction or another sent her whisking away.

Take it easy! Madanach cautioned. You don't need to push so hard. At least, not in that direction. We need to go the other way.

Da's right, Kaie said. We should head east, not north.

I'm sorry, Tamsyn apologized. I didn't know that would happen.

It's all good, the Reach-King said kindly. But we should get a move on. This ritual won't last long; just until the smoke runs out, then we'll snap back into our bodies.

And that's always unnerving! Kaie said, amused. Let's go.

They pushed their awareness outwards, towards the east along the jagged peaks of the Jeralls strung out below them. They found one hidden Thalmor base near Arkngthamz, in spite of illusion spells set up by the Thalmor to hide it.

Illusion spells don't work against a true-seeing like this, Madanach explained. But we need to push further east. Whatever may be hiding in the Reach, we can shadow-walk to for closer observation. We need to explore what lies beyond the Reach, where the Old Ones can't help us.

They pushed on, and Tamsyn recognized Valthume and Lost Valley Redoubt as they passed over them.

We're leaving the Reach now, Kaie commented. Best keep a sharp eye out down below from now on.

We'll follow the mountains, Madanach said. I see a fortification down there, but I don't know what it is.

That's Bilegulch, Tamsyn supplied. It's an Orc stronghold in Falkreath Hold. It's mainly populated by bandits. Jarl Siddgeir sometimes has dealings with them.

A snort of contempt came from Madanach. And the Imperials thing we're the corrupt ones!

Tamsyn wisely chose not to respond.

They found another Thalmor base hidden between Bilegulch and Glenmoril Cavern, and Tamsyn made a mental note of its exact location, to inform Marcus later. Kaie spotted another between Cracked Tusk Keep and the Twilight Sepulcher; and Madanach noticed suspicious activity around the Bloodlet Throne.

That may be a serious problem, Tamsyn worried.

Why? Kaie asked.

In the game, the Bloodlet Throne was a vampire hive, Tamsyn explained.

Thalmor vampires? Madanach queried, and Tamsyn heard the amusement in his voice. I always thought they were bloodsuckers.

They had barely reached the Pale Pass when a sudden, overwhelming jerk on their minds brought them harshly back to their own bodies, still sitting around the now quiet cauldron at Hag Rock Redoubt.

"What did you see?" Drascua demanded, her black eyes glittering in the firelight.

"A lot, and not enough," Madanach scowled. "We'll still have to shadow-walk the border of the Reach, but we can do that in the morning."

"You can fill me in before you go," the Matriarch agreed. "For now, my King, get some rest. You two, as well," she continued, turning to Kaie and Tamsyn. "You'll need all your strength for the morrow."

Tamsyn realized she was bone weary, though it had only been her mind that had gone out.

"Do you always feel this tired afterwards?" she asked Kaie as they settled down on their sleeping mats.

"Always," Kaie yawned. "Even shadow-walking doesn't take this much out of you." She smiled. "That's why we don't do it very often, and usually it's only the Matriarchs who do. Or the Reach-King."

"Or the one who will someday take his place," Tamsyn smiled.

"But not for a long time yet, I hope," Kaie grinned. "I'd like to inherit a peaceful kingdom, thank you very much." She rolled over onto her side and promptly fell asleep.

Tamsyn, however, rose quietly and stepped back outside into the night air. Masser had travelled a fair bit while they had been scrying ahead, and now hung low in the western sky just above the Dragontail Mountains. A cool breeze drifted down from the heights, and in spite of her insulated traveling tunic and trousers, Tamsyn shuddered. Tapping her ear bud, she concentrated on her husband.

"Marcus?" she called quietly into the night. "Are you there my love?"

His response came immediately. "I'm here, sweetheart. What's up?"

"I wasn't sure if you were out of the Forge yet," she said.

"We finished up a while ago," he replied. "Greyshadow's heading back to Cyrodiil tonight. I'm going to Dragonpeak Eyrie to check in with Benor."

"Something wrong?" she asked, concerned.

"Some disturbing reports we need to look into," he replied. "Don't worry. I've got it under control – and yes, I'll be careful. What's your news?"

Tamsyn told him of the sites she, Madanach and Kaie had discovered. "We haven't explored all of the Reach border yet," she told him, "but it looks like the Thalmor are attempting to re-establish the base you took out not too long ago."

"Hmm…" Tamsyn could hear the concern in his voice. "I wonder why they'd go back to that place?" he pondered. "I mean, we gave them a pretty good drubbing last time, and we stole an airship from them. I would have thought they'd have abandoned the place."

"If the illusion spells are any indication," Tamsyn reasoned, "that's exactly what they want us to think. We're going to check them out more thoroughly tomorrow – and yes, we'll be careful, too."

"I have faith in you, my love," he said warmly. "Get some sleep now. Looks like tomorrow's going to be a busy day for both of us."

"I will," she smiled softly. "I miss you, and I love you."

"I love you, too."

They signed off, and Tamsyn slipped back into the wickiup to find her bed. As she drifted off, her mind played through the information they had so far. The Thalmor were attempting to set up staging areas along the Skyrim-Cyrodiil border. This clearly indicated they felt the Nords to be a major threat to their plan of dominating Tamriel. Since their attempts at fomenting civil unrest within the Province had failed, due to Marcus' intervention, the Dominion now appeared to be taking bolder steps towards the next Great War.

And if they've set up these bases here, she thought, where else are they infiltrating? What else have they done to prepare themselves for war?

There was still too much they didn't know, Tamsyn worried. All of her tutoring under the Auger of Dunlaine, all her scrying of possible futures, still hadn't given her a satisfactory answer to the one major question on the minds of all within the Alliance: could the Empire withstand another Great War with the Aldmeri Dominion?

We have to, Tamsyn prayed as she drifted off to sleep. Failure is not an option.

"You know," Dante drawled, "I'm quite capable of finding the Pale Pass on my own. You don't need to come with me."

"Call it professional courtesy," Marcus grinned, keeping his personal thoughts private. He would not be able to accompany the next Emperor of Tamriel all the way back to the Imperial City, ensuring his safety, but he could at least see that he crossed the border in one piece.

"It's a long way to go for 'professional courtesy'," the Breton Guildmaster pointed out drily. "Don't you have someplace to be?"

"Are you breaking up with me?" Marcus did his best to affect a jilted lover's whine, pulling a mock-tearful expression.

Dante chuckled briefly. "It's unnecessary, that's all," he said, all seriousness once more. "I thought you were going to that hidden base you have in the Velothi Mountains?"

"I will," Marcus nodded. "But as we head to the border, we can check out that Serpentine Trail."

"The Serpent's Trail," Dante corrected him, unconvinced of the Dragonborn's motives, "is beyond the Pass. I'll ask again, more directly: what's your real reason for following me leagues out of your way?"

Marcus sighed and pulled off his helmet, running a hand through his hair as he did so. It would seem nothing but the truth would serve here.

"You're the next Emperor," he stated baldly. "At least, you will be, if all goes right. And making sure that it does is part of my job. I'm the trouble-shooter. I can't go with you back to the Imperial City; there's too much going on here. But if Benor and Tamsyn are right, about Thalmor movements in the Jeralls, I would be remiss in my duty in not ensuring that you get safely through the Pale Pass and into Cyrodiil proper, where the Imperial Legions patrol the roads more than the Hold guards do here. Hell, if I could, I'd have Odahviing take both of us all the way back to the White-Gold Tower."

"But you're needed here," Dante nodded, understanding. He appreciated the straight talk, even if he didn't like it.

Marcus inclined his head. "I'm needed here."

Dante put his hand on Marcus' shoulder. "You're a good man, Marcus Dragonborn," he smiled, by way of thanks. "I'm glad I know you."

"Let's get moving, then," Marcus grinned. "We still have a long way to go."

They kept to the road, which wound through the southern portion of the Rift, heading up into the foothills that surrounded the Throat of the World. They passed by Haemar's Shame, and Marcus wondered briefly how Clavicus Vile was enjoying his enforced isolation. He had no desire, however, to go in and ask.

Near the old Stormcloak encampment, now abandoned, they saw a group of travelers headed in their direction. By their armor and weapons, they appeared to be mercenaries accompanying a Dunmer mage in master-level Destruction robes. At sight of the two men approaching them, the mage called his group to a halt.

"You there! Breton!" he called. "Your crown... gods, it's made of Aetherium! Pure Aetherium! Where did you find it? Tell me!"

Dante only just stopped himself from putting a hand up to the crown on his head. I knew I should have put it away, he thought, irritated with himself. But it was too beautiful to hide, and he and the Dragonborn had gone through much to get it.

"Who's asking?" he drawled, placing his hands on his hips and oh-so-carefully loosening Mehrunes Razor in its scabbard.

"I am Taron Dreth," the Dunmer glared. "The world's foremost expert on Dwemer forging techniques. Now answer my question!"

Marcus, already alert for trouble, snapped his head back to the Dunmer. Taron Dreth. Katria's assistant.

"As it happens, my friend Marcus, here, and I made it together," Dante stated imperiously. "Now, if you'll excuse us—"

"What?" floundered Dreth. "You... you found the Forge? The Aetherium Forge? That's impossible!"

"I've heard your name before," Marcus frowned. "Katria mentioned you."

Dante's eyes narrowed slightly as he now made the connection. Taron Dreth's face clouded over, and his stance became aggressive.

"Katria?" he gasped. "No, no that's not possible!" His red eyes narrowed in suspicion, darting between the two men, as if gauging their strengths. "You... you know too much. I can't afford to let you live. Kill them!" he ordered his mercenaries.

The four paid bodyguards drew their blades, and Dreth limned himself with a protective spell before bringing fire into his hands and enveloping himself in flames.

Dante drew Mehrunes Razor and crouched, vanishing from view. Marcus would have been irritated, but he knew this was the Nightingale's preferred method of fighting, and he would have to trust the man.

Bellowing out his Marked for Death Shout, weakening his opponents, Marcus launched into his two-weapon fighting style that had served him well for most of his time in Skyrim. The largest merc was bearing down on him, after staggering over the Shout, and as he swung his greatsword over his head to gain momentum, Marcus ducked under the swing and came up behind the man, slicing low and hamstringing him. Blocking a blow from a second merc just behind him, he dodged and tumbled to the side to avoid a fireball launched by Taron Dreth. The conflagration caught the two mercenaries in the blast, and they howled their disapproval.

"Seems your boss isn't particular about collateral damage," Marcus mocked, and the two men – both Nords – growled their displeasure.

The fireball told Dante two important things: Dreth relied on magic and other people's muscle to protect himself, and because of his predilection for Destruction magic, he needed to be taken out quickly.

I owe him for Katria's sake, he thought, as he hurried down the road towards where Dreth had taken refuge behind a pile of boulders. He knew the man wouldn't see him, unless he could cast a Detect Life, which Dante hoped was unlikely.

Two of the mercenaries seemed to be hanging back from the fight with the Dragonborn, and Dante realized quickly they were waiting to see if they were needed before leaving Dreth unprotected.

"STOP!" he heard the Dragonborn bellow, and turning back, he saw the two mercenaries had done just that. The one that had been hamstrung hobbled to the side of the road and sat down, pulling out a healing potion and some linen to tend to his wounds, while the other stood nearby, leaning against a tree.

Dante knew of the power inherent in Imperials to calm aggression, but he had never seen it play out before in this manner, and once again, he revised his opinion of the man known as Marcus Dragonborn.

The two mercenaries near Taron Dreth, however, frowned in dismay and rushed forward to do battle with an Imperial who completely outclassed them. For his own part, Dreth growled out his frustration and launched a fusillade of fire towards the Dragonborn. Calling out a warning would have alerted Dreth to his location, thus ruining his chance to mete out justice for Katria. Instead, he concentrated on Marcus and tapped the earbud.

"Incoming, on your left!" he whispered.

The Dragonborn gave a start of surprise, but dropped the ebony dagger he carried and put up a warding spell just in time. The fire washed over him, singeing just a little, but not nearly as bad as it could have been. The two mercenaries, however, did not fare as well, collapsing in the dusty road where their bodies lay, still and smoldering.

Swiftly coming up behind Dreth now, and gritting his teeth against the Flame Cloak, Dante slipped Mehrunes Razor in front of the Dunmer. "This is for Katria," he whispered in Dreth's ear as he drew the dagger across the mer's throat. Dreth choked as his mouth filled with blood, before he slumped at the Nightingale's feet, his Cloak extinguished forever.

Dante made a swift gesture with one hand and the peachy-pink glow of Restoration suffused him, the blisters healing without a trace.

The two mercenaries calmed by the Imperial Voice of the Emperor stood by, unmoved. "What do we do now?" one asked.

"Whatever you want, I suppose," Marcus shrugged. "Take whatever he had of value and find a better employer."

"That works for me," said the second merc. "Come on," he told his companion. "Let's get out of here."

They trudged down the road to Dreth's body, looting it, before turning their steps back east in the direction they had originally been heading, one of them still limping slightly.

"That was quick thinking back there," Marcus grinned at Dante, tapping his ear. "I didn't expect that. Saved my bacon, though, so thanks."

"I didn't expect you to calm them down, either," Dante said. "Why did you?"

Marcus shrugged. "They were hired bodyguards. I had no quarrel with them. They were just doing what their boss ordered them to do."

"They would have killed you, you know," Dante pointed out.

Marcus smiled. "No, I don't think they would have."

"You're a very strange man, Marcus Dragonborn."

"You're not the first to figure that out," the Imperial grinned. "Let's go."

Late afternoon saw them leaving the ruins of Helgen behind them, and Dante – seeing the remains of Alduin's wrath for the first time – shuddered at its implication.

"How could anyone have survived that?" he murmured, appalled.

"To this day, I'm still not sure," Marcus admitted. "And I still have nightmares about it."

They said no more on the subject, but turned their footsteps southward towards Fort Neugrad, which was now held by the combined forces of Imperials and former Stormcloaks. In the minds of both men, however, were Benor's words regarding the suspicious activity he had witnessed coming out of the Serpent's Trail.

"…they all went to Helgen, then disappeared inside the ruined buildings…."

While Dante knew he could wreak considerable havoc on whomever was hiding within the ruins, he knew the Dragonborn was still no master of stealth. Attempting to take on an unknown number of Thalmor soldiers was a suicide mission he had no intention of instigating. For Marcus' part, he preferred to keep as safe a distance as possible from the burned-out village, choosing to skirt around the outside of the scorched walls, rather than push through the ruins. By unspoken agreement, both men decided to bide their time rather than tip off the Dominion that their presence in Helgen was known.

Besides, Marcus thought to himself, Balgruuf's no fool. He'll beef up security around Riverwood, like he said he'd do, but he'll also have Brynjolf and his network find out what's really going on here.

As hard as it was to do, sometimes he had to trust the people he'd put in charge, step back, and let them do their jobs. He couldn't do it all himself. Wasn't I the one complaining that I was only one Dragonborn?

A soldier dressed in Stormcloak armor met them at the gates of Fort Neugrad. "Dragonborn? Councilor? I was told to watch for you," the woman said. "Could you please come with me?"

"We're rather in a hurry," Marcus frowned. "Is something wrong?"

"Not that I'm aware, sir," the soldier replied. "I was just told to bring you to the Commander if I saw you. We weren't sure you'd come this way."

Marcus looked at Dante, who shrugged. "It is getting towards evening," the Breton Guildmaster pointed out. "I'd almost rather spend the night here and start for the Pass in the morning, if it's all the same to you."

"Lead on, then," the Dragonborn said to the soldier, who led them into the main complex and up to the commander's quarters. A female Imperial in Officer's armor greeted them.

"Dragonborn, Councilor," she saluted them. "I am Commander Vilena Tullius. Thank you both for coming. We weren't sure you would pass by this way."

"We?" Dante asked, while Marcus blurted, "Tullius?"

"Yes," a man's voice replied, and General Tullius stepped out from around the corner of the room. "Lena, here, is my daughter."

"General, sir," the Commander frowned, "with your permission, you did say you'd let me handle things here."

"My apologies, Commander," the General replied, inclining his head. A faint upturn played at the corner of his mouth. "As you were, then."

"What are you doing here, General?" Marcus asked, clasping the man's wrist and giving it a good shake. "I thought you'd been recalled?"

"I was," Tullius replied. "But it seems his Eminence, the Emperor, feels there's a need for a 'military advisor' here in Skyrim. I'm not here officially, but if anyone wants advice, I'm available."

"The General is on his way back to Solitude," Commander Tullius explained. "But we received word from Jarl Balgruuf of some disturbing reports out of Helgen."

"Our intelligence network is looking into it as we speak," the General elaborated. "The Commander, here, will be mobilizing troops should they become necessary."

"I've also sent a detachment to the Serpent's Trail," the Commander added. "Whatever is going on in there, we'll be ready for it."

"Have you learned how they're getting into there to begin with?" Dante asked. "The other end isn't far from Fort Pale Pass. How are they getting past Imperial troops on that side?"

"We're not sure yet," the General admitted. "I've received no reports of any unusual activity south of the Pass."

"They must have found a way – or made a way – through from one of their hidden bases in the Jeralls," Marcus surmised.

"Yes," Tullius nodded. "Balgruuf mentioned something like that. The problem is, we could go looking through those mountains for a year and a day and never find them, unless we had a good idea where to start."

"Tamsyn, my wife, thinks they may have a base near the Bloodlet Throne," Marcus offered.

"Bloodlet Throne?" Tullius echoed, an eyebrow crawling upwards. "Strange name for a place. I've never heard of it before."

"I have," Commander Tullius replied. "And I know where it is. But why would your wife think there's something there?" she demanded. "I can't send troops there on a hunch."

"The Dragonborn's wife is the Arch-Mage of the College at Winterhold," Tullius reminded his daughter. "I've met the woman, and she's formidable in her own right. If she says something is going on there, we'd be fools not to look into it."

"Take lots of cure disease potions with you," Marcus advised. "Tamsyn thinks there may be vampires hiding in there."

Both members of the Tullius family shuddered. "Vampires!" the Commander gasped. "That's all we need. Thalmor vampires!"

"I don't think the Dominion knows they're there," Marcus said, "but I'd be careful, just in case."

"This brings up another point," the General said. "Because of the risks involved, I'm going to have to insist on taking custody of the Councilor, here, and ensuring his safe return to the Imperial City."

"That's not necessary," Dante frowned. "I know my way there."

"With all due respect, Councilor," Tullius said flatly, "you're too important a person now to be left without an escort. Like it or not, I'm sending a patrol back to Cyrodiil with you. Please don't attempt to elude them. They would be brought up on disciplinary charges for dereliction of duty, and I'm sure you don't want that on your conscience." He gave the Breton Guildmaster a hard look as he spoke, and Dante sighed in capitulation.

"Your prisoner, General," he intoned, holding out his wrists with no small measure of irony. Tullius chuckled, satisfied that things were going according to plan.

"You're not my prisoner, Councilor," he assured the Breton man. "I just don't want to have to explain to the Emperor should anything should happen to you on your way back."

"Understood, General," Dante grumbled. "Though I wish to state for the record that I'm not happy about the curtailing of my freedom."

"Duly noted, Councilor," the General bowed. "When you get back to the Imperial City you may lodge a formal complaint, if you wish."

"Better get used to it, Greyshadow," Marcus advised. "Like it or not, you are the heir-presumptive. You can't take the risks you once thought nothing about. Perhaps it's time for you to pull the strings from within. I'm sure you have people you trust to do the legwork for you."

"Yes," Dante sighed, "but you're painting a larger target on my back by doing this. One man, escorted by a cohort of the Imperial Legion? Must be someone important." He shook his head at the futility of it all.

In the end, knowing they had valid points, the Guildmaster allowed himself to be escorted on the following day to the Pale Pass. Marcus watched them depart before turning to Commander Tullius.

"Your father will be returning to Solitude, then, once the Councilor has been delivered?" he asked.

The Commander nodded. "My father is a staunch believer in duty. The Councilor's safety comes first, however, before he will take up his post at Skyrim's capital."

Marcus nodded. "I should look into what's going on at the Serpent's Trail, then."

"That won't be necessary, Dragonborn," Vilena told him. "I've already dispatched a message to our intelligence agents. They will investigate and report what they find."

"But I—"

"You need to let us do some of the work, Marcus," the Commander smiled, taking some of the sting out of her words. "You are at least as indispensable as the Councilor. In your own words, 'you can't take the risks you once thought nothing about.' If the Dominion is funneling troops into Falkreath Hold, we will find them. But we need you to lead us, and if you fall, somewhere in an underground labyrinth that could easily be explored by our troops, then who will command the dragons?" She let the question rest there.

Sighing, Marcus nodded. "Point taken, Commander," he acceded. A quirk of a smile played at the corner of his mouth. "You are your father's daughter; do you know that?"

Vilena Tullius inclined her dark head graciously and smiled back. "I will take that as the compliment for which I'm sure it was intended."

Tamsyn had decided very quickly that – shadow creatures notwithstanding – passing through the shadows to cover great distances was a great way to travel. Kaie explained to her that the amorphous denizens of the shadow realm were easily cowed by simple light spells.

"They don't like it," the Reachwoman said, "and it pretty much keeps them at bay. As long as you have a Candlelight spell ready, you can ward them off and keep going."

"What happens when the Candlelight spell goes out?" Tamsyn asked.

Madanach grinned. "Cast it again, run fast, or pull yourself out of the shadow realm," he smirked.

"That's not always easy to do," Kaie reproved. "Especially where we are now, traveling through solid stone. I usually just cast it again, as quick as I can."

Tamsyn tried very hard not to think about that.

"Can anyone in the physical world see that light?" she asked, to keep her mind off the idea of materializing inside solid stone.

"I'm not sure," Kaie replied. "I don't think so."

"You don't think so," Tamsyn echoed carefully.

"They might see a faint glow moving about," Madanach answered for his daughter. "A lot of superstitious folk put it down to will-o-the-wisps, or something like that."

"Dominion operatives aren't known for being superstitious," Tamsyn pointed out.

"No," the Reach King acknowledged, grinning. "But they also don't have a clue about the Old Magicks, either."

They made good time traveling along the border between the Reach and Hammerfell, covering many leagues of the rugged terrain in far less time than it would have taken in the physical world by simply traveling through rock and stone, snow and ice. Madanach kept up a constant divination spell to detect sources of magic, which – after a suitable amount of begging from the Arch-Mage – he taught to the two women.

"Kaie should know it anyway," he shrugged, "and since you're now my adopted daughter, you should probably know it, too."

In this manner they covered the entire southwestern section of the Jeralls in little more than half a day, locating two more Thalmor bases besides the one Marcus and Dante had taken out recently.

"They're mobilizing," Tamsyn noted, as they observed the base near Lost Valley Redoubt. "Are your people aware of this base, Madanach?"

"We weren't, not long ago," he admitted. "But I've sent word along to the Matriarchs to prepare themselves for any kind of invasion."

"The Thalmor won't attack our Redoubts, Da, will they?" Kaie worried. "They don't know we've done anything to them."

"We don't think they know," Madanach corrected. "As far as the Thalmor are concerned, never make assumptions. I'll let Nadie know as soon as we get to a safe place."

Tamsyn noted to herself that he pronounced the name as NAH-dee-ay.

As they watched, two columns of gold- and green-clad troops marched across an open arena and up the gangplank of two airships anchored in the center of the base, which covered a large portion of the valley. Crews of Altmer mages carried baskets and crates filled with blue glass bottles. Tamsyn recognized those immediately.

"Magicka potions," she whispered, unsure if they could be heard while in the shadow realm. "Marcus told me they power the airships by channeling magicka into huge gems inside the heart of the main cabin."

"Can we slip in and get those gems?" Kaie asked.

"Not without being seen, Daughter," Madanach frowned. "Even if we Shadow-walked to the inside of that thing, we'd still have to come out into the overworld to get the gems, assuming they aren't being heavily guarded."

"Madanach's right," Tamsyn nodded. "It's too risky, and we don't know how the gems are secured to the ships. It might not be possible to just grab and go."

Kaie made a noise of disappointed impatience.

"The best thing for us to do at the moment," the Reach King mused, "is to see which way they're headed when they take off."

"We don't know when that will be, Da," Kaie pointed out. "And the sun is already low in the west. We can't stay in the Shadow realm all night, waiting for that thing to leave."

Madanach growled his agreement. "Let's head over to Lost Valley, then," he advised. "Nadie will give us a place to rest, and she can send some of her own people to watch this place."

The Matriarch of Lost Valley Redoubt was perhaps the oldest Hagraven Tamsyn had ever seen. Her hair and feathers were practically white, and her eyes, once black and beady, were cloudy and rheumy. Her voice, however, was still strong as she greeted them, when they were shown into her presence.

"My King does us a great honor," she smiled warmly, extending one clawed hand blindly, while leaning on her skulled staff. Madanach took her hand in both of his and kissed it.

"Nadie, you're still as beautiful as ever," he grinned cheerfully.

"And you're still as big a liar as you ever were, Maddy." She gave a raspy chuckle. "To what do we owe the pleasure of your presence here?"

"I'll tell you everything, Nadie," he promised, "but we've been Shadow-walking all day—"

"Ach!" she tutted immediately, raising her head towards her Briarhearts. "Fetch food and drink for our guests," she ordered. To Madanach and his companions she waved a hand vaguely. "Not another word until you've refreshed yourselves! Come! We'll retire to my hut."

In spite of her apparent lack of sight, Nadie led them confidently to a thatched stone hut and waved them inside. Though not very large nor particularly well-lit, it was cozy and warm, and the sound of water rushing from Bards Leap Summit was muted in the gathering gloom of the evening.

"Nice place, Nadie," Madanach commented. "A change from the old wickiup, I see."

Nadie shrugged. "I'm old, Maddy," she grimaced. "Sleeping on a bed of straw is far too uncomfortable for these ancient bones of mine. I had my Briarhearts build me this hut a couple years ago, and make me a proper bed, like I used to have before my Conversion. Now," she continued, "introduce me to the newcomer. I recognize Kaie by her scent, but who is the other?"

"Are you saying I stink, Auntie?" Kaie protested in mock indignation.

"If the shoe fits, dear Niece," Nadie chuckled fondly.

"Nadie, this is Arch-Mage Tamsyn," Madanach cut in, hiding a smile. "She's married to the Dragonborn—"

"And recently became one of us, I see," the Matriarch nodded. "I could sense that about her. Come closer, child," the old woman insisted. "Let me get a good look at you."

Tamsyn hesitated. Wasn't the Matriarch blind? Madanach gave her an encouraging nod, and Kaie nudged her forward. A hand like a bird's claw reached out, and Tamsyn – unsure what else to do – took it.

"Ah, yes!" Nadie smiled. "There you are! Now I see what all the fuss is about. I've heard about you, of course, my dear. We might be hidden away in the hills here, but we still know what goes on in the rest of Skyrim."

"I'm pleased to make your acquaintance," Tamsyn murmured formally.

"Tch!" the Matriarch tutted. "So formal! We are family, my dear," she continued, smiling. "Madanach, if you haven't guessed by now, is my brother, and Kaie is my niece. And since he has adopted you, and sponsored you to the Old Ones, you are now my niece as well." She patted Tamsyn's shoulder fondly. "Now, enough with the formalities and introductions. Sit down and get comfortable, all of you!"

Food and drink was brought in shortly after, and the Reach King and his sister spent the time catching up on the general news concerning the Redoubts. Only when the meal had been cleared away did Nadie broach the purpose of their visit.

"I'm sure you didn't just drop by out of a sense of family duty," Nadie teased. "Even if it has been a handful of years since you were last here."

"I've been busy!" Madanach protested.

"So I understand, Maddy," Nadie nodded. "What brings you here this evening? We aren't exactly on the main road, you know."

Madanach then related everything he, Kaie and Tamsyn had discovered in the last several days, and finished with the observations they'd made earlier in the day.

"A base?" Nadie frowned. "A base full of Thalmor here? In the mountains behind us?"

"That's what we saw, Auntie," Kaie affirmed. "And it looks like they're getting ready to launch an attack."

"On whom?" the Matriarch asked.

"We aren't sure," Tamsyn admitted. "From their current location, they could either send airships into Skyrim or Cyrodiil. We couldn't stay to find out."

"And you say there are several more of these airship bases, hidden along the Jeralls?" Nadie pressed.

"That's what we've been able to see," Madanach replied. "At least as far as the Pale Pass. I don't know about anything to the east of that."

"That would be out of our lands and out of our hands," Nadie pointed out. "The Old Ones would not help us beyond the Reach."

Tamsyn remembered the wily Reach King informing her they would not be able to call upon the powers of the Old Ones in any other part of Skyrim.

"My husband, Marcus, is currently in the area of Falkreath and the Rift," she told them. "I alerted him to what we've found, just by scrying the other night. I'm sure he'll look into the possibility of any Thalmor bases from the Pale Pass eastward to the Velothi Mountains. We have our own reasons for wanting to keep the Thalmor out of the eastern side of Skyrim."

"What is it you want from our people, Maddy?" Nadie asked. "You've already sent out warnings to remain alert. What more can we do?" It was not a complaint, Tamsyn realized, but an invitation to help.

"I'd like you to keep an eye on that airship base, if you can, Nadie," the Reach King said. "We need to know which way they'll be moving."

"I'll get some Pillagers and Ravagers on it right away," Nadie promised. "They're the only ones who can not only Shadowwalk, but also have the magical firepower needed to go up against the Thalmor, should it become necessary."

"I don't want it to become necessary, Nadie," Madanach warned. "Not yet. We wait and see which way the wind blows. But if they get caught, I expect them to do whatever it takes to get out of there alive. And the Thalmor won't be expecting Shadow Walkers."

"Understood, Maddy," Nadie assured him. "We'll do our part, and send word when we have it."

"That's all I ask, Sister," Madanach smiled. "Now, is there someplace where an old man can get some sleep around here? It's been a long day, and I'm worn out."

"My Briarhearts will show you," Nadie smiled, hugging him. "Ah, Maddy, it's been good to see you again!"

Madanach was led away, leaving Nadie with the two women. There was silence for a long moment, and Tamsyn shifted uncomfortably.

"He's not well, Kaie," Nadie said in a low voice. "I could sense it. Physically he seems fine, but his mind is…tired."

"I know, Auntie," Kaie said glumly. "All that time in Cidhna Mine exacted a toll on him."

"I don't think you need to worry just yet," Tamsyn assured them. "While Madanach didn't give me permission for a deep scan, a cursory look tells me that, while he's not as strong as he was, he's not ready for a funeral pyre yet. And as I told him earlier, he's in better health than he likes to pretend. He'll be with us for a while longer."

"It's his mental well-being that troubles me," Nadie worried.

Tamsyn nodded with understanding. "I think it weighs on him that he's still not sure if he'll see the Reach returned to your people before he dies, but this business with the Dominion infiltrating along the border has sparked his interest. I think he'll want to stick around for that."

"That's something, at least," Nadie sighed. "Maddy has always felt things deeply. Even when he was little. After our parents died it fell to me to take care of him."

"What happened then?" Tamsyn asked. "I know so little about him."

"Yeah, even Da never talks much about when he was younger," Kaie added.

Nadie sighed. "It's not a long story, but it's not pleasant. There isn't much to tell. Our mother was Brighide, the Reach Queen. Our father was her consort, Macon, but he never held power. Most of the time, in our society, that's never really an issue. But in our father's case, it mattered. He was a strong, stubborn person – Maddy is a lot like him in many ways. I was the elder of their three children. There was a sister between Maddy and I, Nimue, but she died in the Markarth Incident.

"I was slated to become the next Reach Queen, but Macon insisted that Maddy should be the heir. He had some silly, Imperialistic ideal about males inheriting titles; his mother was rumored to have been Imperial. Anyway, he attempted to raise a rebellion against Mother, but it was short-lived, and she was able to easily put it down."

"What happened to your father?" Tamsyn asked.

"My father," Nadie mused, bitterly. "I never really thought of him in those terms after he attempted to depose Mother. I refused to call him 'Da' after that. Mother meted out Reach justice for his insubordination. She staked him out on one of those Nordic altars that dot our landscape and turned him into a Briarheart. After that, he was dutifully loyal, quiet and subservient."

Tamsyn repressed a gulping sound, but Nadie heard her and gave a bitter smile.

"You think that harsh?" the Matriarch asked. "I think she was more than generous. Not all who go through the ceremony emerge as Briarhearts. Many die. Macon had already proved he had a strong will; that's probably what pulled him through the ceremony. Mother merely left it to the Old Ones to decide if he should live or die."

"So what happened to you and Da after that?" Kaie asked.

Nadie sighed. "I was groomed to be Reach Queen, and my brother was sent to be trained as a Nightblade, along with his best friend, Nepos."

"What are Nightblades?" Tamsyn asked. She knew, of course, that the two old Reachmen had been part of that group, but had little idea what their purpose had been.

"Highly trained warriors," Kaie answered. "Skilled in the Old Magicks, as well as with blades. Nightblades get additional instruction in stealth, archery and alchemy."

"Indeed," Nadie nodded. "A scouting party that includes at least one Nightblade has a far greater chance of successful raids than one without. And Maddy was one of the best. He seemed to have been born to it, and he was a natural leader. I think he got that from Mother."

"That's why the entire Reach looks to him for direction," Tamsyn realized.

Nadie inclined her head. "He's very charismatic when he chooses to be," she agreed. "In any case, things went on in this manner for a decade or so. Mother decided I would take over as Reach Queen once she completed her ascendency to Matriarch. But events took a sudden turn. Mother died of a sickness that swept through the Reach. Then the Great War escalated, and the Imperial Legionnaires, stationed in Markarth, were recalled to Cyrodiil to help Titus Mede take back his Province. Many of the Nords soon followed as Skyrim joined with the Empire to defeat the Dominion. They left the Reach unguarded, so we merely stepped in to reclaim our land. For nearly two years we had peace under our own rule. I had taken Mother's place to ascend to Matriarch, because we needed that connection to the land. At my insistence, Maddy became the Reach King."

"Matriarch Maiara, at Karthspire, told us the Thalmor promised you would be allowed to rule the Reach independently," Tamsyn said. Nadie frowned.

"Yes, they sold us out," she hissed. "In return for our little insurrections against the Nords during the Great War, they very generously turned a blind eye – if you'll pardon the reference – to the Reachfolk occupying Markarth. But when Titus Mede the Second made his stunning comeback and brought the War to an end, those same Thalmor told the Nords that we took advantage of their absence to take over their lands. Their lands!" Nadie fumed before continuing.

"The former Jarl of Markarth, Hrolfdir, attempted to take back his city, but he couldn't defeat us with just his own troops. He sent out a call across Skyrim for an armed militia, which was answered by Ulfric Stormcloak, who was not then the Jarl of Windhelm. Ulfric was promised by Hrolfdir that he and his people would have the freedom to worship Talos within the city of Markarth, in direct violation of the White-Gold Concordat. Hrolfdir always was a short-sighted man. He hoped the Dominion wouldn't find out.

"Ulfric and his troops were set loose in Markarth, and there they killed every man, woman and child who even remotely looked like a Reachfolk. My sister, Nimue, was an herbalist working with Bothela at a shop in the city. She was apprehended coming home to her room in the Warrens – which were a bit nicer place to live then – and they assaulted, raped and murdered her."

Nadie paused, brooding. Kaie and Tamsyn said nothing. There was nothing that could be said.

"I think Maddy went a bit insane when Nimmy's body was found," the Matriarch continued. "He went on a rampage, then, killing any Nord he could find, until at last they caught him. Even with all his Nightblade training, his luck ran out and he was captured. At first, I had heard he had been executed, along with several others, to be made as an example. I also learned that Ulfric Stormcloak had been thrown into Cidhna Mine – which even then served as a prison owned by the Silver-Blood family – at the insistence of the Dominion representative in Markarth."

"Ondolemar?" Tamsyn asked.

"That was the name, yes," Nadie confirmed. "I think I gave up after that. We were scattered, leaderless, and had suffered a tremendous blow to our independence. I believed I was alone in the world after that. I retreated here to Lost Valley, to be simply the Matriarch, and to stay as far away from Markarth as I could. I was incensed to learn that Ulfric had not only been allowed to leave Cidhna, but also that my brother was a prisoner there, a tool of the Silver-Bloods. Still, he has always been resourceful. Somehow Maddy managed to remain in contact with his old friend and Nightblade, Nepos. Because of that, we of the Reach had hope that our King might return, and that someday we might have our lands back."

She turned her sightless eyes to Tamsyn.

"It is you, my dear, and your husband, who give us hope that it may happen in our lifetime."

"But no pressure or anything," Kaie quipped, making both women chuckle and breaking the tension.

"Get some rest now, children," Nadie advised. "We at Lost Valley will keep our eyes and senses on the Thalmor from here."

Odahviing landed in the courtyard of Dragon Peak Eyrie, formerly known as Skuldafn Temple, and Marcus jumped down, heading up the stairs to the main hall. He noted with approval that much of the debris and rubble that had choked the former temple grounds had been cleared, and a few of the crumbling buildings showed signs of repair. Several younger dragons were lounging around on the tops of walls and roofs, eyeing the activity within the Eyrie's confines with interest. A squadron of six were currently in the air, Marcus could see, with their riders practicing aerial combat maneuvers, aiming at targets on the ground some distance away.

Benor came out to greet him, and met him halfway down the stairs.

"Marcus!" he exclaimed with delight. "I'm glad you're here! I was just about to send a reconnaissance squad out along the Jeralls towards Pale Pass."

"I think it should just be you and me, Benor," Marcus cautioned. "A whole squadron of dragons flying together in a group would make anyone suspicious, not just the Dominion."

"Oh, yeah," Benor realized, his face falling. "I didn't think about that. You're right. Well, I'd better flag them down then."

Marcus followed his friend to a wooden scaffold that had been constructed near the front gate. Climbing the steps to the top, Benor grabbed two flags dyed yellow and began waving them in precise positions towards the dragonriders overhead. After a few minutes, they circled around and landed in the courtyard. Benor addressed them from the top of the scaffold.

"The planned mission is scrubbed for today," he announced, to groans of dismay from the riders below. "That doesn't mean you won't all get your chance to fight the Dominion. It just means that it won't be today. Continue with your training in the meantime. That is all for now."

"But why, Grand Master?" one of the riders, a woman, complained. "We've been training for months now! When are we going to get a chance to prove what we've learned?"

"I'll take this question, Benor," Marcus murmured, and Benor nodded, stepping aside to let him speak to the crowd below. He addressed them in the language of the dov, partly for the benefit of the dragons, who had not all learned the common tongue, and partly for the riders, who were learning dovahzul from their draconian companions.

"Dovah zoriik, daar los sul tol praag dirun. Mu nis vos un hokoron mindok mu los ahmiin do niist nuvah. Tiid fen bo, rinik das, fod hi fen lost grozein wah genun hin krilaan. Erei ruz, kos prem. Un mul los ko gahlot ahrk eldraag. Vos mii kos bek do tol getiid, fah nii fen ni bo ontzos."

What he said was this: "Dragon riders, this is a day that requires caution. We cannot let our enemies know we are aware of their presence. The time will come, very soon, when you will have the chance to show your bravery. Until then, be patient. Our strength is in stealth and surprise. Let us be sure of that moment, for it will not come again."

There was a murmur of resignation from the riders below. The dragons said nothing, inscrutable as always.

"Thanks, Marcus," Benor muttered. "They've been getting very restless lately, and I'm not sure how much longer we can keep them hidden here."

"Depending on what we find today, Benor," Marcus replied, "they may get their wish sooner than they think. Are you ready to go?"

"As soon as I call for Firefall," Benor nodded. They descended the scaffold and made their way outside the gates, where Benor called for the dragon who had taken a liking to him. Odahviing was waiting for the Dragonborn. When the two men were mounted, the dragons lifted into the air and circled around the Eyrie to gain altitude. The air was already cold in the courtyard. At this height it was practically arctic, and Marcus was grateful for the woolen lining of his dragonplate armor. Benor pulled a scarf up around his mouth, steam already escaping from every breath.

"Why aren't you wearing a mask?" Benor complained, as soon as he got within earshot. "I'm a Nord, and I'm still freezing!"

"It must be something to do with my dragon blood," Marcus laughed. "Either that, or Odahviing makes a good seat-warmer."

"That sounds like a very undignified position for a dov," the great red dragon complained. "Perhaps you'd like to get off and fly yourself?"

"My apologies, old friend," Marcus said sincerely. "I only spoke in jest. But you do tend to give off a lot of heat."

"Only when I wish to, thuri," the dragon replied laconically. "I remember your first ride on me, before I trusted you. I did not send out my warmth then."

Marcus remembered that too well. On his first trip to the former Skuldafn Temple, to find Alduin's portal to Sovngarde, it had been a bracingly cold journey. At one point, Odahviing had stopped to rest, and had been amused at Marcus' attempts to keep himself warm, before breathing fire on some nearby rocks to heat them enough to thaw the Dragonborn's hide.

The admission that Odahviing trusted him now warmed Marcus' heart. Dragons did not lightly give up that trust. Even Paarthurnax had warned him that it was never wise to trust a dov. It was a testament to how far their relationship had come that the huge firedrake trusted him now.

"Where do we start looking?" Benor asked. "If what the Arch-Mage told you is true, that they're hiding their bases with illusion spells, how are we going to find them?"

"I've got a trick up my sleeve," Marcus replied. "For now, let's head south, to the Jeralls. I doubt the Dominion has infiltrated into the Velothi Mountains yet." The dragons took them easily through the tail end of the eastern mountain range that divided Skyrim from Morrowind. They saw Fort Dawnguard, spread out in Dayspring Canyon, to the east of Stendarr's Beacon. Marcus made a mental note to himself to warn Isran of a potential vampire enclave at Bloodlet Throne.

As they turned westward over the Jeralls, along the border between Cyrodiil and Skyrim, Marcus used the 'trick up his sleeve' he had referenced to Benor. His time spent studying at High Hrothgar with Miraak had taught him how to empower his Shouts with either dragon souls or magicka energy.

"It's how I managed to survive all those centuries in Apocrypha," Miraak admitted. "I found a method – I won't call it a Shout or a spell, because it's more than that – that allowed me to channel magicka energy, or siphon soul energy, into boosting the power of my thu'um. The book is lost, now," he continued regretfully. "But I remember how it was done. I'll teach it to you."

Now Marcus used the technique to empower his Aura Whisper, searching for life forms hundreds of feet below him, through solid stone, which he never would have been able to do in the past. In that manner, he located two concentrations which should not be where they were. He called them out to Benor, who made note of it on a map he carried, laminated to a piece of smooth wood. A parchment map would have been useless, at the speed with which they travelled.

"So, we've got Arcwind Point and this tumbled-down Dwemer ruin, right?" Benor confirmed when they reached the Pale Pass. "That's it?"

"So far as I could tell," Marcus said. "That Dwemer ruin is Avanchnzel. I've been there, once before. I don't think there are any Falmer in there. Just some dwarven machines that are still active. That wouldn't account for all the life I saw there. It's Arcwind Point that has me concerned."

"Why is that?" Benor asked.

"Too close to something the Dominion shouldn't find," Marcus replied cryptically, thinking of the Aetherium Forge only a few leagues to the northeast of the Nordic ruin. "Let's stop at Fort Neugrad," he suggested now. "I'd like to let the Commander know."

They were ushered into Commander Tullius' presence immediately, and Marcus informed her of their findings.

"Hmm," the Commander mused. "The Dominion is stretching itself fairly thin along the border," she noted. "Any sign of these airship things?"

"None we could see from our vantage point," Benor replied. "That doesn't mean they don't have them."

"And a concentrated attack in either direction, north or south, would mean a distraction from any simultaneous attack going on further south in Cyrodiil itself," Commander Tullius frowned.

"There's also the possibility that the Dominion would attack in both directions at once," Marcus suggested.

"That occurs to me as well," Lena Tullius nodded. "It would be to their advantage to cause as much disruption as possible, if their goal is to conquer Cyrodiil as the seat of the Empire. If Cyrodiil falls, so will the Empire. Skyrim will be too busy fighting along its own border to come to our aid. High Rock is too far away, and we have no confirmation yet that any other Province will help us if the Dominion attacks."

"Then we need to get some answers from them," Marcus said grimly. "The time for sitting on the fence is over. We need to know if they're with us, or if we're in this alone." He turned to his companion. "Benor, get back to Dragon Peak Eyrie. Train up as many riders as you can and get them ready to deploy as soon as the Dominion makes its move. I have a feeling it will be soon. But do not attack yet, understood? Wait for my order." He tapped his ear, and Benor briefly touched his own ear stud and nodded in confirmation before heading back outside to Firefall.

"Commander?" Marcus began. "I know a group of people who are skilled in fighting vampires. Do I have your permission to alert them to the Bloodlet Throne? If there are vampires there, as Tamsyn suggested, Isran and his team can take them out before they become a problem."

Commander Tullius' eyes widened in relief. "That would be a load off my mind, Dragonborn," she agreed. "Have your man get in touch with me here to coordinate the attack. I can send some of my men disguised in regular, non-Imperial armor. I'll place them under Isran's command temporarily, and it won't look at though the Legion is aware of any Dominion presence."

"I'll fly out there right now to let him know," Marcus promised. "They could be here by tomorrow."

"Where will you be, should I need to get in touch with you?" Lena Tullius asked.

"I'm heading to Morrowind," Marcus replied. "But here, take this." He pulled a silver ear stud from his belt pouch and gave it to her, coaching her through its use.

The Commander chuckled. "I wondered why my father suddenly started sporting one. He hates jewelry. He calls it 'frippery.'"

"We only give them to those in command," Marcus said. "Tamsyn's afraid one will fall into Dominion hands, so she laid the non-detection enchantment on them as well. They won't detect as magic if anyone checks. You're in charge here, so I think you should have one. I'll let the others know."

As he flew eastward to Fort Dawnguard, Marcus contacted Balgruuf and informed him of all that had transpired.

"I'm glad to know Tullius' daughter is in charge down there," Balgruuf commented. "I've known Lena since she was a child, and there never was a more level-headed woman in my acquaintance. I think she gets that from her mother. The General was always a bit of a firebrand in his youth. It was his wife, Isabel, who ruled the roost!"

Marcus chuckled. "I'm heading out to Morrowind," he told his oldest friend in Skyrim. "I need answers they aren't giving us yet."

"Bah," Balgruuf snorted. "These things ought to go through the diplomatic channels, my friend," he cautioned. "Just don't muddy the waters while you're there."

"I'll be careful," Marcus promised. "I won't step on anyone's toes, but I need to know where they stand."

He signed off and concentrated on what he knew so far.

The Dominion had – probably – established airship bases in the Jeralls between Cyrodiil and Skyrim. Those bases could potentially launch an aerial attack on either Province, or both, depending on Dominion manpower and resources, and how much chaos they wished to sow. That it was likely a distraction tactic didn't escape him. The question remained, distraction from what? The unrest in High Rock seemed to be simply political in-fighting, for which Bretons were renown from time immemorial. The Redguards of Hammerfell were on the verge of signing a tentative treaty of reconciliation with the Empire, but there were contingencies not yet agreed to that kept it from passing.

A similar treaty had been presented to Morrowind, and there had been no advancement there at all. The Houses were still undecided whether or not to accept the Imperial apology and agree to come to its aid in time of need.

In Valenwood and Elsweyr there were stirrings of unrest, which were encouraging for the Empire; less so for the Dominion. It meant their hold on those Provinces wasn't as strong as they made it out to be. As for Black Marsh, they were as inscrutable as always. Declining to declare support for either the Empire or the Dominion, they played the waiting game to see who would come out the winner.

As Fort Dawnguard spread out below him once again, and Odahviing circled around to land on the main tower, Marcus sincerely hoped the Argonians would choose a side before it was too late. Even if they threw their support to the Dominion, at least the rest of Tamriel would know where they stood.

"You are certain of the truth of this message?" the black Khajiit rumbled, perusing the parchment in his hand. A single candle on a nearby table was all the light provided in the tent, but Khajiit typically didn't need very much illumination.

"Very certain, Honored One," the little motley Tojay nodded. "This one brought it to Your Eminence as soon as it was confirmed."

"How can this be?" the female next to him gasped. A grey and black striped tabby, her round green eyes narrowed in confusion. "We already have a Mane. How could you be one, Rezhyk?"

"I do not know," he admitted. "The circumstances of my birth have never been clear, except to my mother, who recently told me the truth. That is why this one asked for clarification and proof. And it is why he asked this one to get it for him." He glared at the calico in front of him, who was only half his size.

"This one is not wrong!" protested the little Tojay. "This one performed several calculations to be quite certain of the result. He even gave the information to his partner to run them through again."

"You did what?" Rezhyk snapped angrily. "To whom did you give this information?" he hissed. "Tell me!"

Cowering, the Tojay simpered, "My partner. The she with whom I have had one litter of kits. She would not betray us, Lord!"

"You don't know that," the tabby Cathay replied, laying her ears back and flexing the claws on her unusually large paws; there were six on each hand – quite rare among Khajiit. "It was unwisely done."

Indeed, all three knew how dangerous was the suggestion that there could be a new Mane to lead the Khajiit. Though technically only a spiritual leader, rather than a political one, the Thalmor made it clear they would only speak to the Mane, and issue their directives through him. A new Mane – someone unknown to the Thalmor overlords and who might not hold the same views as the current one – was a potential risk to their dominance of the Province.

The current Mane, whose name was lost to memory upon ascension, followed in the tradition of gratitude to the Dominion, which claimed responsibility for restoring Jone and Jode to the skies after the terrible Void Nights, something the Thalmor counted heavily upon to keep order within Elsweyr.

"Wisely or no, Chieri," Rezhyk replied, "it is done now. We will not wait to see if this Tojay's partner betrays us. We will leave."

"Leave?" Chieri echoed in dismay. "But we have been here less than a hand of moons. We have only just gotten settled. You would uproot us again?"

"We have no choice," Rezhyk said firmly. "Our safety, and that of our followers, is now compromised. Prepare to leave." Turning to the Tojay, he frowned. "If you tell anyone we have left, I will personally see that you are disemboweled, is that understood?"

"This one understands," the little calico whined unhappily. "This one regrets his foolish mouth."

"You will regret more than that if your mate betrays us," Rezhyk warned, his green eyes glittering in the semi-darkness.

He turned to leave, to issue orders to those who followed his vision for a free and independent Elsweyr. The tabby, Chieri, paused only long enough to hiss at the Tojay before following him.

"What can it mean, Rezhyk?" she murmured as she caught up to him. "For the moons to align at your birth to make you the next Mane? This one thought that could only happen when Khajiit had no leader to follow."

"Only Alkosh knows the reason," Rezhyk replied steadily. "Rezhyk does not pretend to understand the mind of a god."

"Is this why your mother called your birth a mistake?"

Rezhyk laid his ears back. "Have a care, Chieri," he warned. "My mother said the things she did to protect me from harm, as any Clan Mother would do."

Chieri subsided. She knew the truth of this. Any kit born in the same configuration of moons as the Mane was immediately put to death, to prevent that Khajiit from challenging the Mane for power. It was a dirty secret kept from the rest of Tamriel, who believed that only one Mane was born at a time, in any generation.

Orders were given, and amid the rumblings of disapproval, the band of thirty or so Khajiit began to pack up their encampment.

"Where do we go?" asked Rezhyk's second in command, a burly ginger with the unlikely name of Cinnamon, a name he had picked up in the spice trade to Hammerfell and which he continued to use.

"Riverhold," Rezhyk replied shortly, carefully rolling up maps from a table in the main tent and placing them in hardgrass tubes. He handed them to Cinnamon who automatically began placing them in a rucksack. "From there we will see how the security is along the border."

"You aren't thinking of going into Cyrodiil, are you?" Cinnamon blinked.

"No," Rezhyk chuckled. "We could not sneak this many of us across the border, even as quiet as we are. And I will not put the younger ones at risk. We will merely let our enemies think we are looking to escape Elsweyr. Our ultimate destination will be Dune. I have contacts in Valenwood. I would like to know what transpires in the rest of Tamriel."

"I hope you know what you're doing," Cinnamon mumbled as he continued to pack.

"I think we've done all we can do for now," Madanach sighed. They had returned to Bthardamz soon after receiving confirmation from Nadie at Lost Valley that her spies were in place. "We've discovered the hidden Dominion bases and we've got our own people watching where we can. We've alerted the Alliance, and now it's up to them to be prepared for an imminent invasion."

"I don't like it," Tamsyn frowned. "I don't like knowing they're there and not doing anything about it."

"What can we do?" Kaie asked. "Da's right. There aren't enough of us, and even with our innate abilities to resist magic, there's still plenty more Thalmor than there are of us. You saw those numbers."

"I know! I know!" Tamsyn sighed in frustration. "But I just feel like – with all these newfound powers I've acquired – that I should be doing something to even the odds a bit."

Madanach crossed the campsite and placed his hands on her shoulders, forcing her to look at him.

"Daughter," he intoned quite seriously, "you have done your part. It's a bigger part than you know. You've taken away the Dominion's element of surprise, and that's a huge advantage. It's time for you to get back to your College and make sure your students are prepared for the mammoth chips to hit."

Tamsyn swallowed what she might have said and nodded. Her stubborn pride refused to accept her own limitations, but the near-eighty-year-old woman she had once been knew the value of caution.

"You're right," she sighed finally. She quirked a smile at Kaie. "I suppose I should listen to my advisors, eh?"

Kaie grinned. "That's what we're here for," she replied guilelessly. She bid them a fond farewell, thanking them for all they had done, then stepped onto the portal which took her to the Tower of Mzark. It was a short, brisk, downhill walk from there to Heljarchen Hall.

"Mommy!"

A pint-sized, dark-haired powerhouse plunged into her as soon as she entered the main hall.

"Julia! Baby girl, what are you still doing up?" Tamsyn smiled, scooping her daughter into her arms. "It must be way past your bedtime!"

"Welcome home, Lady Tamsyn," Gregor greeted her. "I'm sorry she's not in bed. She told me you were coming home and refused to go to sleep."

"Yes," Tamsyn said drily. "I can imagine." She turned to her daughter. "You and I are going to have a conversation, young lady, about what you know and how you know it."

Julia merely giggled and covered her mouth with a chubby, grubby hand.

"But first, I think we're going to wash your hands," Tamsyn continued wryly. "Thank you, Gregor, I'll take care of her from here."

"Very good, my lady," the Nord smiled, inclining his head and retreating.

Tamsyn took her daughter into the master suite and set her down on the dresser she had used as a changing table when Julia was a baby. There was still some fresh water in the pitcher, so she filled the bowl and dampened a cloth.

"Now, Julia," she began, carefully wiping her daughter's face and hands, "did we know each other before?"

Julia didn't pretend to misunderstand. "Yes," she said slowly. "But Grandpa said not to talk about it."

"Why?"

"Because it doesn't matter here," the four-year-old replied.

"I see," Tamsyn mused. "But maybe Grandpa doesn't understand that it might matter to me," she ventured.

"He told me you would say that," Julia smiled.

"Oh, he did, did he?" Tamsyn chuckled. "I suppose I should have expected that. Does he talk to you often?"

"Not every night," Julia answered, lifting her arms so Tamsyn could remove her pinafore and slip her nightgown over her head. "But we talk a lot in my dreams."

A brief stab of envy lanced through Tamsyn. Her father seldom spoke to his own daughter in her dreams. She shrugged it off and smiled at Julia again.

"I'm glad you're getting the chance to know him," she told her daughter. "Even if it's in an unusual way. Julia…" She hesitated before asking her next question. "Were you…happy, there, in the other life?"

The four-year-old wrinkled her brow. "I think so," she said slowly. "I don't remember very much about it. But I think I was happy."

A wave a relief washed over Tamsyn. "And are you happy now?" she queried, amused.

"Of course!" little Julia chirped. "This time I get to be with you and Daddy!" She raised her arms again, this time to be picked up.

Tamsyn hugged her daughter to her tightly. "Then I'm happy, too," she whispered, fighting back the stinging in her eyes.

Once Julia was settled for the night – no doubt to recount everything to her Grandfather in her dreams, Tamsyn thought with only a trace of resentment – Tamsyn headed down to the kitchen to fix herself a cup of tea while sorting through the messages that had accumulated while she and Marcus had been absent.

The call came when she had only gotten through a quarter of the stack. It was Balgruuf's voice.

"ALLIANCE, ALERT!" he called. "ATTACKS HAVE BEGUN! REPEAT, ATTACKS HAVE BEGUN! This is it, everyone. This is what we have been training for. Everyone to your posts!"

[Now the war begins in earnest, and we see whether the training in secret equates to preparedness in the open. It's the Dominion and their allies against the Empire and hers, and it's a toss-up over which will emerge the victor. Will the dragons be enough against airships? Will the Alliance have enough numbers to throw at the Dominion? We shall see…

Thank you once more for your continued support. No excuses for my delay this time. Just a lack of inspiration that I hope I have overcome.]