"Agreed" Septimus said upon seeing the avalanche site below start to rumble as the Prince recovered. He took a moment to chuck a second bottle of dispel onto where the prince was, hoping to hamper it even more. He put an arm around S'kylir's waist and jumped down the cliff to the awaiting ground below, landing with grace and speeding off into the protection of the forest.

It was not long before they found Annette in the forest, surrounded by two other figures whom quickly disappeared as they approached. "Who was that, Annette?" "It was the two that helped us...where did they go?" "No matter." Septimus said. "We must not tarry. My dispell will not hold the prince for very long." With S'kylir leading the way, they stepped around Annette and continued their path toward the city, but they were far from alone it seemed....

Standing on the edge of the forest, the three had regrouped. "Sorry for not assisting with the Prince. I...do not think I would have been able to help much..." Annette apologized to the two, covered in sweat from running from the trapped beast. "Do not worry about it, Annette. Your time will come." She nodded as S'kylir and Septimus started to walk past her, moving towards the city.

Behind them, moving swiftly and keenly, Woland moved in, drawing his sword, the only indication that he was there was the distinct "Shink" that his sword made as it was withdrawn. Septimus turned in the blink of an eye and drew his own sword, hearing the sound and moving his blade in front of Woland's descending blade, blocking the fatal blow on S'kylir. He used his palm to strike at Woland, but when it should have connected, the opponent was gone, then back again, a palm flying foward and hitting Septimus in the jaw, sending him reeling. The lightning quick movements of Woland had his sword at S'kylir's neck before she could move to counter.

"Apologies, madam. I do not enjoy doi-" "STOP!" Yelled a voice from nearby. Woland stopped mid sentence and turned towards his approaching wife, Myra. "Stop, Woland. Sword down." He looked towards S'kylir and back to Myra. She eventually got close enough and grabbed Woland's sword, pushing it down.

"Madam, Nerevar, I so humbly apologize." She said to S'kylir.

S'Kylir glared at the both of them, "Do not call me that... What is the meaning of this? Are you going to attack or stand around being cryptic?"

"Nere-...Damn both Sithis and the night mother..." Woland said to himself as Myra spoke. "Apologies, S'kylir. This is my husband Woland, dark brotherhood listener -whom is no longer hunting you, right?!-" He nodded "-and I am not sure you remember me, but I am Myra. Miraluk watermancer." She bowed before Woland spoke, his sword sheathed and his arms crossed. "I apologize, ma'am. When I was given details of my hunt I was presented with an image of you, not a name. I do not hunt the innocent, which is why we are having a polite conversation now instead of the stabbing and assassination game."

"Oh, and I apologize for the injury I inflicted to your jaw, sir." He gestured to Septimus, whom was grasping his jaw, massaging it gently. He simply responded with a glare.

"I don't remember you. How can I remember someone I've never met?" S'Kylir spoke quietly to Myra, "And I am far from innocent," she frowned at Woland, " I would thank you for your aid had you not struck my companion and insulted me. Now if you are both finished accosting us then kindly get out of our way and crawl back into the hole you came from."
She put her hand on Septimus' shoulder, clenching tightly and guided him around the pair and back toward the road.

"Oh..."she said, disappointed. "I was by your side in Mournhold. During Almalexia's fall."

S'Kylir slowed to a stop and froze for several tense moments. Suddenly she turned on the strange woman and charged quickly toward her with balled up fists. Stopping just short of her face, she locked eyes with Myra and glared. She looked up and down the woman's body and all over her face. Her teeth were bared in a scowl.

"That was centuries ago and should have been forgotten. You pretending to know me and to have been a companion of mine is not making your situation any better, girl."

She did not budge from S'kylir's actions, steely eyed. "You have not changed a bit, S'kylir. But if you wish for proof, then so be it." She whistled loud and from the distance, Woland and Myra's horses rode up, stopping close. Myra got close to her horse and took out a long canvas pack, unwrapping a golden schimitar. Once the blade made contact with the air, it started to catch fire in a dark blue flame. "You gave me this blade the day following Almalexia's death. I keep it with me and keep it in the same condition as the day you gave it to me. "I am five hundred, forty six years old."

As if the kindling to feed her hatred had burned away, S'Kylir's expression melted into a remorseful calm. Her eyes wandered over the blade and looked deeply into the flames as they danced slowly and reenacted their history.

"I see. You're [i]that[/i] person. Myra... Please forgive me. It's... been a very long time."

"Please, Nerevar. No apoligies are needed." She smiled and approached S'kylir, allowing her to gaze upon the blade in greater detail. Woland spoke up before they could catch up. "We should move. The prince will have broken free by now and is no doubt on the prowl."

Agreeing together, the group moved quickly and made their way  to a much safer location in the forest, but a few miles outside of the city. They made a small camp and used Hopesfire to light a small fire. Afterwhich Myra cleaned it carefully and made sure that lighting the camp did no damage. Afterwards, they gathered around the fire and prepared some food. Myra sat close to S'kylir and lay the blade carefully upon it's canvas wrap. "How have you been fairing all these years, Nerevar?"

"Indoril Nerevar died thousands of years ago. Please, I do not wish to go by that name," S'Kylir urged, "I've been fairing as well as could be hoped, I suppose. Akavir has been a good home. And you. What happened to you after Mournhold?"

"I went to Morrowind for a time and assisted the Ashlanders and Ashkhans in attempting to heal the broken spirits of the Dunmer. Once I felt that they had things under control, I returned to my home for a time before I had the itch to travel again, where I was captured by an Aldmeri vessel and was ferried here as a prisoner. The ship had shipwrecked on the isle and one of the crew used the chant of the night mother before he died, which is how I met Woland...thus is where I am today."

S'Kylir's eyes flicked to Woland, "A member of the dark brotherhood then?" she smirked, "So somebody out there still wants me dead. For some reason I miss that feeling." She brushed a strand of hair behind her ear and though for a moment, "The Ashkahns assisting the Dunmeri... How shrewd of them... Tell me, have you heard anything of Morrowind more recently?"

"I can answer that." Woland spoke as he sat across from S'kylir, sharpening a blade with a whet stone. "Much better than if Almalexia and Vivec had survived. All their traditions are intact and their worship of the Ancestor Dunmeri is stronger than it ever was before."

Her eyes narrowed at the man and she frowned, "Good for them... I suppose. But, believe me, things would have been better had they lived and Vvardenfell been spared."

"You have been out of the loop for some time, S'kylir. If they had lived, you may be one of the last pure Dunmeri living today. " he sheathed his sword and locked eyes with her.

"Pure?" she snorted, "Be careful not to get ahead of yourself. Regardless, I do not believe you. False or not, the Tribunal gave them strength and served as a figurehead to stabilize the province. All I did was cut the ropes and leave them to their fate in the name of revenge for the dead."

"I have traveled far and wide in my fortyseven years of age. The Aldmeri have reduced the Sload to a whimpering pile of dust. Enacting their "Exctinction order", they occupied the Sload lands with their airships and started to wipe out any adults, taking the young children, pregnant women, and adolescents and rehabilitate them, making them hate their culture and worship the aldmeri way. They are a shell of what they once were." Myra spoke up now, knowing the history much better than Woland. "Yes, the Dunmeri were crushed by the Argonians, they may have defended against the Argonians if Vivec and Almalexia lived, but when the Aldmeri came, they would have killed Vivec and Almalexia with their aircraft and the Dunmeri would have fought on, fighting to the last. The Alderi would have instituted the Extinction order and would do to the Dunmeri what they have done to the Sload."

She cleared her throat, letting it sink in before continuing. "They lost and were crippled by the Argonians, yes, but after the eruption of red mountain, the Dunmeri moved to Solstheim where they rebuilt and eventually reclaimed their home not too long ago. Throughout this time, the Ashlanders and the Ashkhans helped them shed the bonds of Vivec and Almalexia, moving to ancient traditions. Seeing this, the Aldmeri chose not to subjugate them."

She grabbed a small canteen and took a long drink, quenching a thirst she had built up from talking. "They chose to allow them to worship their ancestors and continue their traditions and retain their identity as long as they carried the Aldmeri flags into battle. They agreed, knowing the danger of the Aldmeri battleships. Even though they carry the flag into battle, their loyalty lies with themselves."

Woland spoke then, talking of the remaining factions. "The Morag tong now even works with house Redoran in secret, sabotaging Aircraft for an eventual revolution...with a few Dark Brotherhood insurgents helping them along the way in secret. They have recovered very well and are a much more proud and respected people, thanks to your efforts."

"Slaves," S'Kylir said matter-of-factly, "Slaves staging a rebellion, like slaves do. Of course they would still stand strong and of course they would continue to cast off any chains clasped around their necks. They are Dunmer and that behavior is in their blood. I am proud, and glad to hear of progress, but do not try and convince me that a scourge is a blessing."

She frowned and stared into the flames of the fire for a few moments before standing.

"I do not wish to speak of this anymore and I need to rest. It is good to be in your presence again, Myra."

"I am in agreement. However, I have a favor to ask. I had accompanied Woland to travel for a small time as I have been feeling the itch to travel and would be honored if you would have me in your company again for a time, until you tire of us that is." She looked up to her and smiled, hoping she would agree. Woland spoke again. "You do not have to worry about me performing a hit on you either, ma'am. I will be passing a message to a courier to be given to my speaker and passed down the line, making sure to say that you are the Nerevar. None short of the insane or stupid will take the hit. I have no intensions to kill you or any of your compatriots."

"Mm, yes. Let's just tell the whole of Nirn who I am, shall we? I mean the reason I fled to Akavir in the first place was because there simply were not enough citizens of Tamriel to blabber on about Indoril's reincarnation and my adventures and controversy to. Divines be praised, I just so appreciate the subtlety with which you handle your affairs, Woland," S'Kylir rolled her eyes, "Myra, you are both welcome to travel with us. It would be good to have more pleasant company and more numbers."

"This is the dark brotherhood, not the Black horse Courier, S'kylir. You will be as much of a mystery to nirn as you were before." "I do hope so, for your sake," with that she bowed and returned to her tent.

"I like her. She is much more crotchety than your stories have revealed, Myra." Woland smiled and started to undress for bed. She just glared at him, knowing the rivalry that is sure to come of the two.