"So," a strange but... alluring, voice said to me. "The Last Dragonborn comes. I honestly expected someone... older."

I turned to the speaker, seeing a man wearing dark-colored robes trimmed in gold. He had a strange golden mask covering his face, but I could still feel him smiling at me. He had his gauntleted hand on a writhing, wicked-looking green sword on his hip.

"... Miraak?" I asked, my hand on my own sword. "How are you here?"

"Oh, little one, you'll know soon enough. Just know that I have been able to see you since you set foot on Raven Rock. I haven't been able to communicate yet. I needed you to be deeply asleep. Now that you are, I come to tell you to turn around and head back to Skyrim. Spend what little time this world has left with your husband, before it's too late."

"What are you planning?"

Miraak laughed bitterly. "Do you honestly think I would tell you? Young and naïve. This is who the gods have pitted me against? I am insulted."

I growled, feeling my dragon blood boiling through my veins. "Don't underestimate me. I came here to stop you, and that's what I'm going to do. Get out of my head. Stay away from my dreams. And prepare yourself. Because when I find you, I'm going to kill you."

"We will see about that, little one. Until then, I look forward to seeing if you can follow through on those weighted words." With a wave of his hand, Miraak vanished.

The growling of my stomach woke me up.

My eyes shot open, then darted around the room. Nothing was out of place, no one was waiting to kill me in my sleep. Miraak was just in my head.

Which really wasn't that calming.

I allowed myself to relax a little. No sense in borrowing trouble. Yawning, I stretched my arms above my head, reaching as far as I physically could. I then tried to sit up, but the arm around my stomach kept me in place.

Vilkas groaned in his sleep, tightening his hold around my stomach. His even breaths tickled the back of my neck. If I left him alone, he would probably sleep for several more hours. Neither of us liked early mornings. But, as he said last night, we have a long day ahead. Best get started now.

I rolled onto my other side, facing Vilkas. I could never get over how handsome he was. Especially without the fierce warpaint on. I brushed a lock of his hair away from his eyes, then pressed a gentle kiss against his lips. "Vilkas, wake up."

He moaned once, then cracked one eye open. "Is it morning already?"

"I'm afraid so."

He turned onto his back, then stretched out. "What do we do first?"

"First, breakfast, and a big one. Then we'll try to find out why the village is so empty. Maybe it has something to do with the Earth Stone, which we need to look into, anyway."

"After that?"

"I don't know. We'll see after we finish up with the Earth Stone."

With one last yawn, I sat up and began to dress for the day. I hadn't told Vilkas about my dream because I didn't want to worry him. If he knew that Miraak had a way of spying on us, he would do everything in his power to stop it. And in doing so, he'd put himself in unnecessary danger. I couldn't have that. I needed to be fully focused on my mission. Worrying about my husband would only be a distraction, keeping me from performing at my best.

"Ylva? Are you all right?"

"Yes, I'm fine."

"You should know you can't lie to me."

I sighed. How could he read me so well? "Vilkas, it's just a dream I had last night. But it was just a dream. There's nothing wrong."

"All right, if you're sure."

"I'm sure, Vilkas. It's all right." I turned to face him, fastening my cloak and face mask around my neck. "Well, about as all right as we can get right now."

He chuckled softly. Then he held up a small container of black paint. "Would you mind helping me put my warpaint on?"

I took the small, lidded bowl from him, opened it, then dipped two fingers into the thick mix. "Close your eyes."

He did as he was told, and I smeared the paint over his closed eyelids, just under his eyebrows, and just above his cheekbones. When I was done, I wiped my fingers on the corner of my cloak. "Vilkas?"

"Yes?" He took the paint from me, shoving it back into his satchel.

"Why do you wear warpaint like that? Why do you and Farkas both, for that matter?"

"Because Jergen wore it like this. Even though we remember very little of him, we remember that. I've worn the warpaint for so long, I can't think of a time I didn't have it."

My stomach growled again, this time loud enough to wake the dead. Heat rushed to my cheeks as I pressed my hands to my abdomen.

Vilkas laughed, although it was a good-natured, warm and loving laugh. "We've wasted enough time, haven't we? Let's go get some breakfast." He held out his hand, and I took it. Together, we left our room.

Farkas and Tyra were glaring at each other in the hall. Tyra's eyes shimmered with an almost-metallic luster of hatred. Farkas's were as cold as their icy-blue color.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"Someone kept me up all night with his snoring," Tyra said, not taking her eyes off Farkas. "And he didn't take a bath last night, so now the room smells like a skeever's backside."

"If someone had kept her hands to herself and not hidden my extra clothes, I would've gotten cleaned," Farkas said, eyes still locked on the small, blonde Nord in front of him. "But I can't find my clothes."

"Brother, are you sure she hid your clothes?" Vilkas asked with a subtle roll of his eyes. "Why would she even want to touch them?"

"I don't know. Ask her."

"You girls go get breakfast without us." Vilkas let go of my hand. "My ice-brained brother and I will be with you shortly."

"Don't take too long," I said, motioning for Tyra to come with me. She huffed at Farkas, then turned her nose in the air and followed after me.

"That was awfully childish," I said.

"I don't care. Accusing me of taking his clothes when all he did was misplace them is childish. Why do I have to be stuck in the same room as that... oaf?"

"Careful, that 'oaf' is a member of the Circle, not to mention my brother-in-law. While he may be thick-headed, he still has a kind heart. It's not like him to get flustered over something so fickle."

"Do you think I... fluster him?"

"I don't know, but I wouldn't be concerned. He's a good man, even though he's a little slow."

At this, Tyra laughed.

When we stepped into the main room of the inn, we were both surprised to see only the innkeeper standing there. Not one soul occupied the chairs. No one sang songs of merriment.

"Is it always this quiet?" I asked as Tyra and sat down at the closest table.

"No," the innkeeper said. "Somethin' strange is 'appening in Raven Rock. Most o' the townsfolk stay by the Earth Stone day in and day out. Only the guards, the mercenaries upstairs, the members of House Redoran, and myself seem to be... ah, unoccupied."

There it was again. The Earth Stone had something to do with the missing townspeople. And if Miraak was behind what was happening at the Earth Stone...

How could he control people like that?

I pushed that thought aside. "What's the house specialty?"

"Well, we got ash yam stew, and the finest sujamma you'll ever taste."

Ash yams and sujamma. Not my idea of a normal breakfast. "All right. We'll take it."

In a few minutes, Tyra and I each had a bowl of stew and a bottle of sujamma in front of us. The stew smelled horrid, but I couldn't exactly be picky. I was starving. And drinking any form of alcohol on an empty stomach was just asking for trouble.

Before I got a chance to take a bite, Vilkas and Farkas stepped into the room. Farkas had a bundle of clean clothes under his arm.

Looks like Ice-For-Brains found his "stolen" clothes, after all.

Looking sheepish, Farkas headed to the washroom, while Vilkas took a seat next to me. "He'll be joining us shortly," he said, signaling the innkeeper for some food.

"Where'd you find the clothes?" I asked.

"Under his bed. As soon as we found them, he suddenly remembered shoving them under there to get them out of the way, instead of putting them in a chest, like he thought he did." Vilkas rolled his eyes. "I think he was dropped on his head a few too many times."

I slapped his shoulder. "Be nice."

He scoffed as his food was brought to him. "There's a reason Skjor always said I had the smarts of Ysgramor."

"Who is Skjor?" Tyra asked.

"Was, you mean," I said, taking a bite of my stew. It tasted better than it smelled, thank the Divines. "Skjor was a member of the Circle, the next to oldest member after Kodlak Whitemane. He died sometime before Kodlak, before I became Harbinger."

"How'd he die?"

I choked on a swig of sujamma. "He was killed by... bandits. He, Aela, and myself had a mission to clear out their hideout at Gallows Rock. He went in alone, and was overwhelmed."

"I'm sorry. I knew about you losing your Harbinger, but to lose another member of the Circle at the same time.... It must've been hard."

"Indeed," Vilkas said, expression solemn. "But we've recovered. We have a new Harbinger..." He gave me a warm smile and took my hand in his, "and we have prospered under her guidance."

"You're still a flatterer," I said with a roll of my eyes.

We ate in silence until Farkas joined us. He sat down, a scowl on his war-painted face.

"Brother, I believe you have something to say to Tyra," Vilkas said, his tone slightly condescending.

Farkas's scowl lifted, and a sheepish look took its place. "Sorry," he said, gaze locked on the bowl of stew in front of him.

Tyra gave him a smile, but it looked empty. "Don't worry about it." When the smile faded, her eyes went back to shining with that luster of anger.

Awkward silence dominated the rest of the meal. Farkas kept shooting Tyra glances, but Tyra avoided his eye contact. Obviously she was still angry with him. And he couldn't find the words to apologize, because the poor fool had always been terrible with words.

When we finished, we left enough septims for the meal with our dirty dishes. Then we left the Retching Netch.

Outside, the ash swirled in the wind, much like snow would flurry back home. The sunlight barely filtered through the thick clouds of soot, giving us just enough light to see by.

"I can see the Earth Stone from here," I said, pulling up my mask. "Let's go."

The four of us started towards the stone, and even from this distance, I could sense the malice radiating off the structure. It felt like Miraak's presence in my dream: heavy and hateful. It made me shiver.

As we got closer, the sound of hammers banging against chisels and low, murmuring voices filtered through the air. Getting closer still, several Dunmer, guards and civilians alike, and a single Breton man came into view. The Breton was wearing blacksmith clothes, so I assumed he owned the smithy in town. The Dunmer not dressed in guards' armor all wore similarly styled clothing, either in red and orange, or blue and yellow.

"What in Oblivion...?" Vilkas asked, eyes wide. "What could do such a thing?"

"I have no idea," I said. "Let's see if we can—"

"You there.... You don't seem to be in quite the same state as the others here," a voice interrupted. "Very interesting. May I ask what it is you're doing here?"

We turned to the speaker, a Dunmer man dressed in red-and-gold robes. He had an odd symbol on his chest, maybe a family crest. His red eyes gave off a shimmer of excitement and curiosity as he watched the events in front of us unfold.

"Who are you?" I asked.

"I am Neloth, wizard of House Telvanni. Now, you didn't answer my question: what are you doing here?"

"Investigating. Do you know anything about Miraak?"

"Miraak... Miraak.... It sounds familiar, and yet I can't quite place.... Oh. Wait, I recall. But that makes very little sense. Miraak's been dead for thousands of years."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"I'm not sure, but it is fascinating, isn't it? Perhaps it has some relation to what's going on here. Quite unexpected. I'm afraid I can't give you any answers. But there are ruins of an ancient temple of Miraak's toward the center of the island. If I were you, I'd look there."

I nodded, then turned to my friends. "Looks like we have some hiking to do. We'll go back to the inn and—wait, where's Tyra?"

Our little Nord had disappeared. We all spun around, but she was nowhere to be found.

"She was just here!" Farkas said. "How could she have—"

"Ylva, look!" Vilkas said, pointing back to the Earth Stone.

I spun on my heel, seeing Tyra standing just in front of the monolith of stone set in the middle of a shallow pool of water. Her hand hovered close to the stone, as if she were trying to decide if she should touch it or not.

"Tyra, don't!" I yelled, dashing forward. "Don't touch it!"

But I was too late. Just as I stepped into the pool with her, she touched the stone. Her hand fell away, her eyes deadened, and she walked, as if in a trance, towards the nearest set of tools.

"Tyra!" I grabbed her arm, shaking her furiously. "Snap out of it!"

She pulled her arm from my grip, grabbed a hammer and chisel, then started chipping away at a stone structure. "Here at his shrine..." she murmured, her voice detached. Almost... dead.

"What's wrong with her?" Farkas said, coming closer. "Why does she sound so... wrong?"

"I... I don't know, Farkas, but I swear I'll find out."

"What do we do?" Vilkas asked. "We can't just leave her here."

I turned back to Neloth, who'd watched as Tyra had touched the stone. Watched as she became a zombie. "You! Wizard! Why didn't you stop her from touching the stone?! Why didn't you warn us?!"

"And risk seeing such an interesting spectacle? Why would I stop it?"

"You son-of-a..." I stalked up to him and belted him in his pointed jaw. "Do you care nothing for a human life?! Have you made no effort to stop this evil?!"

He clutched his chin, face indignant. "Certainly not! Doing so would interfere with whatever is going on, and I would be unable to see how this all turns out."

"You're despicable."

"Hardly. I am merely curious. If I were you, I would be spending my energy trying to find a way to free your young friend before any..." He cleared his throat, "permanent damage is done to her."

"Go to Oblivion."

He laughed bitterly. "All in good time, I'm sure. But until then, I have some research to do. I'll be off, then." And with that, the skeever's-butt of a wizard left.

"What do we do, Ylva?" Farkas asked behind me. I glanced at him, and saw him standing next to Tyra, trying to shake her from her trance.

"We have no choice but to leave her here," I said, although I hated myself for saying it. "We need to go to this temple, see if we can find out how to stop this. And Farkas..." I rested a hand on my brother-in-law's shoulder, "as soon as we find a way to free her, we'll come back and free her first."

"She was still angry with me. I don't want her to be angry with me."

"We'll figure this out, I promise." I gently pulled him from Tyra's side. "Come on. We need to go."

Vilkas joined us as we stepped out of the pool of water. He gave his brother a sympathetic look, then took his place next to me. With one last look of regret backwards, we left the Earth Stone.