"The Orc is right...I should be far more direct." Hal-Neesa replied, her glare unmoving from Teroiah. "The Thalmor is offended by me, but even more importantly, she [i]doubts[/i] me. Perhaps not entirely, but...enough. Under any other circumstance, I quite simply wouldn't give a damn. But, unfortunately, the stakes are high enough that even I have to start caring. The one thing I cannot have  you doing is [i]doubting[/i] me, Thalmor." 

Hal-Neesa did not exactly sound angry, but she was stern and spoke with an unquestionable certainty to her tone. "I do not exaggerate, commander. The scale of my power is peer to the likes of Divayth Fyr, Galerion, or Ritemaster Iachesis. You have never felt the kind of power I can command if I really, truly release all of my inhibitions. I create a measurable strain on the very fabric of Mundus by my mere [i]presence[/i]. Clavicus Vile will sense my arrival. That is not something I can allow you to deny, or even merely suspect. It is a [i]fact[/i] that I require you to accept. Yes, my help may be a great boon to you, but my participation in this invasion may also present a greater danger than any of you understand. During the Planemeld, upon the guilds' invasion of Coldharbour, Vanus Galerion was separated and captured by Molag Bal. The Daedra attempted to siphon the immense power of Galerion's essence to accelerate the completion of the Planemeld. Had Galerion not been rescued, the sheer magnitude of that single Altmer's power would have been enough to complete the Planemeld in [i]days[/i], rather than months. So you see, commander, I [i]cannot[/i] be captured. I need to be sure that you understand the reality of this situation. I need to know that your soldiers are going to behave exactly as we are planning right now. Because if you don't believe that Vile's forces will be drawn to me, then your orders to them may be...different."

[hr]

Meesei scoffed as she finally turned her head away from the tower. "I will have you know that portal took us to the exact spot it was supposed to...there just was nothing under that spot after two centuries."

Any argument was quickly cut short when Meesei noticed the figures watching them from the shore. She started swimming towards them, pulling on Lunise's hand to prompt her to follow. She still could not clearly see most of their faces from where they were, but one stepped forward to meet them as they were wading out of the water. Just as soon as they set foot on dry land, the Psijic extended his hand forward. "Allow me." He said simply before pushing his glowing hand downward. As if following the motion, every single drop of water on the both of them was pushed down out of their clothes and soaked into the sand. Even Lunise's hair was entirely dried. 

The man was an Altmer who wore yellow and red robes distinct to the Psijic order, though no different from any of the other figures behind him. He was aged, but did not appear elderly, and had a well-kept white beard. He was quite polite in his tone, and humble in demeanor. "Tranquil greetings, honored guests. I am Loremaster Celarus. Welcome to Artaeum."

Even Meesei was briefly stunned by the greeting. The Loremaster was quite an auspicious individual to be welcoming them to the island. What little writings there were on Artaeum identified him as the leader of the Psijic order. He had authored a commonly circulated book in Tamriel about the Old Ways, and was the foremost master of mysticism in all of Tamriel, if not all of [i]existence[/i].