Several long, antagonizing hours passed as the freed prisoners, the Insurgents, and Marassa waited in the cellar for the coast to be clear. Heavy boots could be heard through the padlocked door, and orders in some undistinct elven tongue was heard from time to time as the dwemer forces searched house to house. A few close calls with the cellar door being rattled were had, although the property owner made sure to introduce himself at those times, as he had gone upstairs to maintain appearances with his family. When they said they did not have anyone hiding in the dark cellar, in most of the cases, it was rather convincing due to the fact the only person who knew about the prisoners was the father, a man of high reputation amongst the town. With so many houses to inspect, the dwemer did not linger for long, or look too closely. 

After what felt like eons, a rhythmic tapping was heard on the cellar door, to which one of the insurgents answered it. A youth, perhaps no older than 14 looked down at the man who answered. "It's time." The young teen said, eyes darting around the street. "This quarter is clear." 

The group made its way to the docks, moving carefully in the shadows and being mindful of prying eyes. The way was clear, however, and few souls dared treat the streets after the day's events. There was an air of uncertainty and danger in the air, something Marassa knew too well. She kept with the group until they reached the relative safety of the docks, where she parted ways from the others as most of the prisoners were lead towards small boats awaiting to take them to the relative safety of Stros M'kai under the cover of darkness. Hravlar kept with the khajiit, and the two approached a heavy, wide set of doors that were the dock's warehouse. Using the code knock for that evening, Marassa waited for the door to open, dreading to find out Sevari and Cub had met terrible fates. Once the dwemer garrison struck, it was chaos, and she had lost track of her friends in very short order. [I]Focus. Conjuring images and fears will do you no favours. Facts, Marassa. We deal in facts.[/I] she thought to herself, staring at the hardwood, weathered from the warm ocean air with the faintest hint of varnish. 

The resounding clacks and slides of locks could be heard from the other side of the door before it swung open. Vorosien stood in the doorway, his hand on the hilt of his dagger behind his back.

"Were you followed?"

Behind Vorosien, a few rowboats were seen tied off in the warehouse's dock and new faces dressed very unlike the Redguard Authoritarians sat at a couple tables, playing board and card games. Sailors, by the looks of them.

"If we were followed, you'd probably be dead right now and this warehouse ransacked." The khajiit replied, shoving past Vorosien and the Redguards who were on guard duty. "Did Sevari and Cub... that big orc, check in?" she asked.

Vorosien made no effort to hide the offense of having himself pushed aside- and so easily- by the Khajiiti woman. Even so, he let his hand come off of the hilt and folded his arms, "No word from Cub, as of yet. Sevari was dragged in here by Sorosi and I. He's in the office."

"Dragged?" Marassa interjected pointedly, staring daggers at the man. "Do explain."

[i]"Alive,"[/i] Vorosien put his hands up in mock surrender, "He was healed by Sorosi after the execution. He's conscious now, was up and walking a few seconds ago."

Vorosien called up for Sevari, not particularly caring if he woke anyone. After a few seconds of waiting, the sound of a door opening and the repeating [i]tacks[/i] of what sounded like a cane could be heard before the sight of Sevari, limping and somewhat grimacing in pain he was trying to hide rounded the corner and stepped down the stairs.

"Your friend." Vorosien gestured to Marassa.

"I still have one good eye," He said to Vorosien before smiling to Marassa, "My friend, Sevari is glad to see This One here."

"Likewise, Marassa is comforted to see you returned." she noticed the limp immediately, as well as his injured appearance. She strode forward, placing a reassuring and bracing hand on his shoulder. "What happened?" she asked, no small amount of worry in her voice. 

"More elves trying to kill me," He joked, "Their machines, they took us all off guard. After you left with Hralvar, they came in, shooting everywhere they saw a rebel. I was almost killed. I thought I was."

Sevari's smile disappeared, his eyes straying to a place far from the moment he was in before he cleared his throat, righting himself again, trying to not rely on his sword to prop himself up. He hated feeling broken.

"There are new additions to the warehouse. They will stay out of our way," Sevari turned, gesturing for his friend to walk along with him, "How did you escape?"

"About the same way as any other situation. With This One's legs." she said dryly, stepping in pace with Sevari and doing her best to not make it appear like she was making a consious effort to take smaller strides for her friend's sake. "This One was nearly struck from a pair of blasts from those crab automations. The heat felt like a furnace and the force felt like a hammer blow, Marassa somehow managed to continue to run, with the others in tow. As soon as we dared, This One lead the others to a safe house to await the time to move." she shook her head. "It was just like Anvil, only far more contained." 

"Anvil," Sevari growled, the hand gripping the hilt of his sword starting to shake before he noticed, "The large armor, their suits, the crabs blew everything up around me. One of my team was felled by these machines. I do not know the fate of the other. I am the only survivor that I know of. We are very lucky, Marassa."

"Lucky." she scoffed. "Lucky people do not find themselves in these situations." she scowled, the day's events hardly the inspiring uprising that many others had anticipated. "You really must find a new calling after this is all said and through, Sevari. You have suffered no small number of grievous injuries in the past few weeks, and Marassa is not enjoying leaving you for any amount of time to come back to seeing you worn more away, like a stone in the desert sands. When do you say enough is enough before nothing of the man you are remains, hm?" she asked, fearing the answer to be something foolhardy and full of bravado. 

Sevari stopped walking as Marassa spoke to him, only resuming his uneven and hobbled pace after a few moments. He contemplated an answer, feeling something fluttering in his heart that sapped his breath away, something like sadness, "I did find a calling. I found a wife. Her children loved me enough to call me their father, perhaps I was something my father could be proud of. Do not tell me to find a calling. I had one, Marassa. Do I fight until I carve a path of blood and I lay tired at your and Zaveed's side or do I turn back now and go back to my wife?"

He stopped once more, sweeping his hand to the rowboats and the ships beyond the large wooden doors of the warehouse, "The last time I tried to go we bled because I thought I was foolish. I was told I was foolish for trying to find a reason to fight, and now you see me here, not the noble warrior that the people stand behind and idealize, but the Khajiit who can not walk without feeling like falling!" He let out a growl as his sword shook and slipped under his weight, catching himself before he fell.

He looked back to his friend, his shoulders rising and falling, he felt himself trembling, not knowing whether to yell or to embrace his friend. A torrent of emotions gripped him at that point and he only stood there, not knowing what to do with himself.

"My wife calls for me as loudly as my loyalty to you, my friend," his voice trembled and he could not trust it, he continued on beside this, "I don't know what to do. I'm tearing myself in half." Sevari wiped a hand across his face, sighing and leaning against a crate.

"It is times like these I consider myself fortuitous that I have not found it in me to settle down." she said, switching to a more Cyrodiilic manner of speaking looking away from Sevari's pain and struggle with a pained expression. It killed her to see him like this. "You don't owe a damn thing to either Zaveed or I. Were it up to me, I would not be here, in this strange desert with people I care nothing for. I came because the only two people I care for, you and Zaveed, would without a doubt run off for another fool's errand, because you both can't sit back and let someone else pretend to be important for once." she said, frowning. 

Marassa placed a hand on Sevari's back, affirming her presence. "If you really wanted to demonstrate your loyalty to me, you'd get back on a ship and to your family, who need a father more than they need a war hero. I have no one back home, and the only family I have is somewhere in this province trying to claim all the glory he can. I found Zaveed once on my own, Sevari, I can do so again. I..." she braced herself, finding the words difficult. "I am afraid to lose you. I'm afraid that you'll keep pushing forward until your so called luck claims your life, and then what? There's nothing worth dying for, Sevari. No cause worth throwing yourself away for. All that matters is the people you care about... nations rise and fall, regardless of what tries to stop it. It's the way of the world, and one I care not for." she said. "Don't die on me."

"Ït is hard, Marassa, I need to be here but I need to be with the ones that I love. It tears me apart because I've come to love all of you. I have one more push in me, Marassa, one more until I am old and worn and the world passes me by. I would hate myself until I am on my death bed if I read about your death or had to hear from some worn and weary merchant in town that Gorzath had died," Sevari looked to his friend, his breath still trembling, "I don't want to live with the thought in the back of my mind that I could have done something. Fame is not important, glory means nothing to me, but I know that your brother would die in search for it and the rest of you will keep on fighting. I ask myself why I can not, and my wife reminds me why I [i]should[/i] not. I don't want to feel useless, I feel broken now. I want to see you through Hammerfell, I want to follow you to Skyrim, and I would dive with all of you into the Scathing Bay, but what hubris has enveloped us to make us think that we can stop these Dwemer? Are we fools consumed by our own heroism?"

Sevari looked to his friend, placing a hand on her shoulder and propping himself up on his sword, "This sword is the only remaining piece of my father that I can still touch. How long until my wife and children can say the same about my Imperial blade?"

"And what is it you expect to be able to accomplish if your body is too broken to push any further on, Sevari?" she asked. "You were always a practical man, and while you weren't always sound of mind, I saw who you really were under that brooding exterior. I forced you to open up and I proded you because I initially was in it to amuse myself, you were just another one of Zaveed's sad lackies, ready to die for something I couldn't comprehend why anyone would think was a sound idea. But then... I came to know you. A part of you reached back, and that stayed with me." she looked uncomfortable as she spoke, finding a pair of seats near a window overlooking the bay. She sat down, resting her elbow upon the wood table and looking deeply into Sevari's eyes. 

"You know, I shouldn't have even been alive in the first place. Had misfortune not befallen my parents, I wouldn't be here and this situation we find ourselves enthralled with would have never come to pass. The infuriating part about Zaveed is he's so set on righting wrongs he comitted and he may not even realize it. He thrives off of people loving him for a change, all because it's something he never knew for most of his life. He lead a charge to save Tamriel from itself once, and it should be enough. I shouldn't find myself on another feeble journey to stop him from committing elaborate suicide, but here I am. I can't speak for the others' motivations, but they hardly matter. I'd much rather be back in Senchal, teaching my students the same skills my Master taught me, but it's hardly an anchor. You have a life waiting for you back in Elswyer, Sevari. Why don't you reclaim it? You made your choice when you married that woman, she comes first. You made that clear enough."

Sevari sat in his own thoughts across from Marassa, listening to her. It was no secret to Sevari that she and Zaveed were siblings but he never knew how it came about from the misfortunes talked about concerning Marassa's birth. He decided it was something they weren't happy to talk on. Sevari thought for a while, on his wife, on his being a Hero, whatever that was worth, about Marassa and Zaveed. He thought about how far he was willing to go for them, if he truly owed them his loyalty anymore. After two years of refusing to leave their side and even after both of them told them that he had repaid his debt tenfold, he chose to stay. Now that he was situated so near to ships that could very well carry him home, his return to his family was at his fingertips.

"If I am still here in the morning, I would think myself foolish and hate myself for not returning. If I am not, my heart will die knowing what could happen when I am gone," Sevari placed a hand on Marassa's, "Do not look for me in my office in the morning, do not look out at sea for me. If I do go, goodbye, my friend. Send my regards to your brother, tell him that I send a thousand thanks for setting me on the right path. You look like you need sleep, my friend."

The woman placed another hand on top of his, tears welling in her eyes. She knew that look in his eyes, the sombre resignation. She knew then and there that this night would be the last she saw of him. It hit her hard, her body softly began to tremble. "Sleep will not take me while you remain here... I cannot just say goodbye like this." she said, the moment crashing down around her like a broken city. Of all the words left unsaid, the fact she would be alone again once more. Her emotions were at odds with her words; she wanted what was best for him, truly, but it wasn't what was best for her. Did she not give up enough already? Did she not pay for her biological father's crimes enough? "I... don't want you to go, Sevari. I... I can't..." her words trailed off, pained. 

Sevari's hand started to tremble as her friend's pain bubbled up to the surface. This was perhaps the hardest thing he had done, and perhaps would ever do. He didn't feel that there was anything that could be put into words that would match how he felt at that very moment. His hand wrapped around Marassa's, Sevari's other arm working to get Sevari to stand. He pulled his friend into a hug and all semblance of composure melted away from him in an instant. His shoulders began to shake and as they did so, the only thing he could do was hold his friend tighter for a moment. The hug broke away without any hope that it fixed anything. It was a journey's end for the Khajiit, he had been a lost child eager to impress his brothers. He had been a thug pressganged into service by a coldhearted criminal, a thief, a murderer, a Hero. A husband. A father.

Sevari only looked to the ground. He couldn't bear to look at his friend in this state. In one moment he felt happiness at being able to go back to his wife, in the other moment he felt that he had just betrayed everything he fought and bled for. He was not a praying Khajiit, he held no stock in the Gods of the Imperials or his people, but as he walked with feet that felt like thousands of pounds on their own, he silently uttered a prayer to S'rendarr and Mara.

"Wait." Marassa urged, springing up from the chair after him. As Sevari turned to face her, he found himself caught in a tight embrace and a passionate kiss. When Marassa pulled away, tears filled her eyes. "I wish you chose me. [I]Vaba Do'Shurh'do[/I]... It is good to be brave." she choked, pulling away from him and hurrying away, every bit of emotional resistance within her finally giving way as she said goodbye to her closest friend, one she loved more dearly than she ever dared say. 

Sevari was surprised at his friend's actions. The kiss took him off guard and he found himself falling into it without a regret. Perhaps he should have chosen her, his wife's love was to a lie, but he couldn't bring himself to think of abandoning her. Instead, he called out to Marassa's fleeting back, his arm stretching towards her. They stared into each other's eyes for a few moments before Sevari reminded himself to speak, "Perhaps we were in a past life. Perhaps we will be in the next. My mind will always remember you, I hope yours will do the same." Their eyes pulled away from each other's, Sevari making as quick of strides as they could manage back to his office, lest he break down any more in full view of Vorosien and the others.

Come morning, with life returning to some sense of normalcy in the city, though still feeling the choking yoke of Dwemer rule, a Khajiit wrapped in a cloak of simple material, clutching a cane and doing his best to hide a sword, slipped from the warehouse at the docks of Rihad while few were awake. He stopped at a tavern, listening for any sailors who were heading South from Hammerfell, to Stros M'kai. He would map out a course towards Senchal and from there, be one step closer to his family.

He would be lying to himself if he did not hold onto what could have been had Marassa followed him past Senchal. What could have been if he had not stopped in that tavern in Leyawiin. For all the things that should have been done and have been left undone, for all the things that should have been said and have been left unsaid, he wished forgiveness. He wished forgiveness from those killed by him or his orders, and he wished forgiveness from those he left in Hammerfell.

To a captain of a fishing vessel planning to make a voyage to Senchal, a coinpurse filled with gold was passed along a wooden table and taken up in gloved hands. By midday, the Khajiit was on the deck of the vessel and slipping out of port under the eyes of Watch-Captain Balaan and his faithful men. By sundown, they were half-way to Stros M'kai and in two days time, they would brave the blockade ing force the Altmer had set up around Anvil.

"Vaba Do'Shurh'do." The Khajiit muttered as he looked out across the sea to the setting sun, nestling itself into the horizon.

"Vaba Do'Shurh'do."