With the second death of their master, the tortured souls of the deceased vanished like smoke in the wind, faded into the darkness without a trace of their existence. In a handful of moments their unnatural aura, baleful glows and shrieks had vanished, dissipating into nothingness as they returned to Oblivion and Aetherius.

  "May your souls find peace." Malulain muttered, falling onto one knee as he finally let himself feel the pain and exhaustion from the fight. Being knocked down by the corpse of one of his Rangers had left him with a shattered wrist, and he was holding it tenderly as limped over to him and the other survivors.

  "I thought you said that only stabbing him in the heart would kill him?"

  He looked up at me and grimly smiled through the pain at my sarcasm. At some point during the fight his hood had been wrenched from his head and a jagged cut ran through his scalp that came close to slicing his ear off. "Have you ever met someone that walked off a knife to the skull?"

  The collection of grim laughs echoed from the handful of survivors as they picked themselves up and began moving about to tend to the wounded. Those few of Eregor's clan that had managed to survive their injuries were quickly finished off with economical stabs to the throat or heart, and the wounded rangers were being tended too as best they could. None of them minded me in the slightest as I walked over, retrieved the Light of Dawn and ensured that Graithlan wasn't getting back up in case the legends were right with a precise stab.

  "It's over." I said simply, watching with some distaste as the body within the armour was already withering, decaying and turning to a slimy dust that poured from the gaps in the armour. Soon the dread armour would return to their original state as ancient relics containing nothing more than a baleful influence.

  "It is." Malulain walked over to me, shrugging off the attentions of one of his Rangers trying to bind his arm with a shortsword and a torn strip of a cloak. He watched me carefully as I retrieved Sunchild from the ashen remains of the skulled helm, wiping it clean on the clothes of a nearby corpse before sheathing it once again.

  "They are fine swords." He said simply, gesturing with his good hand at Sunchild specifically. "You have my thanks for its use."

  "What do we do now?" I asked softly, motioning towards the bodies strewn around us and the ugly collection of armour at our feet.

  The look of pain that filled Malulain's face was powerful and unable to be hidden to anyone. "We must leave the bodies where they fall." He said simply, looking at the remaining Rangers who shared his look of anguish. "There will be no feasting on the dead, nor can we provide the funeral rights that they so deserve with the threat of further taint. They will be reclaimed by the Green and may it lead their souls back into the light."

  "What about the armour? We can't just leave it here."

  There was a nod from the leader of the Rangers. "Just as the Green will claim the fallen, we will call upon it to guard the artefacts. Perhaps it shall do a better job than what we have."

  My look of confusion was either ignored or unnoticed as he turned around to the few that still survived. Two thirds of the Rangers that had followed Eregor's clan were growing cold in the ruins, and none who were left were unscathed. Most had minor or superficial wounds, but there were some who would not live to see the sunrise even with the most potent of restoration magicka.

  "Meneleb, Dirnil. Collect the pieces and take them to Wylweneth."

  The tattooed features of Malulain gave me a weary smile as the two Rangers he had chosen came over and bundled the pieces of the armour into their arms. Carefully, and with an obvious distaste for being so close, let alone touching such foul artefacts they turned and began carrying them towards the forest where we came.

  "Come Kaius. You have seen much tonight and are one of the few to have seen our secrets." Gesturing with his good hand, he bid me to follow as the rest collected their wounded and began leaving the ruins. "You have earned the right to see one more."

  Feeling the stabbing pain in my knee, and the increasing pressure from the swelling on several spots on my body I carefully made my way through the death filled ruins to where the forest thickened. The surviving Rangers stood in a rough semicircle, carrying their comrades and assisting those whose injuries were more severe. Bursting lights danced between some of their number as they used what restoration magicka they could to seal the more grievous of injuries and I was impressed to see that their discipline remained unbroken. Other than the handful who had suffered truly sickening injuries, for the most part they were quiet and just as stealthy as ever.

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  "We are one with the Green." Malulain said softly by my side as I stood behind the group. The two carrying the pieces of armour had approached the last surviving member of Malulain's inner circle; the unarmed Ranger clad in Vines. "And as we strive to follow Y'ffre's teachings and protect the Green, the Green also protects us."

  With the Ranger carrying the armour by her sides, the unarmed ranger began chanting, swaying in time with the wordless notes that rolled forth from her tongue.

  "Wylweneth is a Ranger Druid." He offered as an explanation as the others slowly joined in. Even those suffering injuries added their voices despite the pain. It rolled up and into the night, filtering through the trees and I found myself struck dumb at the sound. It was unlike anything I had heard before, somehow conveying the emotional depth of a Legion Funeral Dirge, the uplifting spirit of an Cyrodiilic wedding, and the pride of an ashlander coming of age ceremony. It was a song that was old when the world was new, a song of ancient times and future events yet to come.

  It tightened my chest and pricked at my eyes with emotion as Malulain joined in. It was a song of the Bosmer, a song for their families, for their comrades and for their countrymen long fallen to darkness. In wordless chords they sung the funeral lament of those who had died but I was shocked when I heard something join in from the darkness of the forest.

  Striding with a sinewy grace, creaking and groaning the spindly figures separated themselves from the forest's edge and moved towards the Ranger Druid with her outstretched arms. There were five of them, each similar in height to the collection of Bosmer surrounding me but one of their number towered over the rest. Everyone within the bounds of Tamriel had heard tales of the guardians of the forests and while their names may have been different in the native tongues of the Empire; geaga-bain, dryaden, fillii silvam, there would be very few who would not know the name Spriggan.

  The branchwraiths moved with all the grace of leaves shifting in the morning breeze, following their towering matron as they moved in perfect harmony. Muscles of rolling creepers twisted and swayed under a skin of leathery bark, and eyes made of flawless amber gazed unblinkingly upon the collection of mer standing before them.

  "The forests will safeguard the armour." Malulain said, breaking the spell the song and the sight of the Spriggans had over me. With a briefest of nods from the oak-like matron, the smaller spriggans stepped forward and wrapped the pieces of armour up in their root-like hands, the finger-vines slithering over them and gently plucking them from the willing grasp of the Rangers. "No mortal will ever find Graithlan's vessel again, especially with the discovery of all of its pieces."

  Staring at the towering matron as her smaller kin turned with their unholy items I couldn't help but agree. The song continued, the Rangers raising their voices in time with the rolling breeze and I could only watch, fascinated as the spriggans sung as well, their wooden calls haunting as they returned to the forests with their newly acquired charges.

  Silence returned to the land but I found myself wondering whether the song had truly ceased or whether it merely continued on regardless whether I heard it or not. The Rangers with their duty fulfilled and their dead mourned as best as they could, began to move silently away. Most of their number glanced in my direction for the briefest of moments before following in the spriggans' footsteps and I was almost certain that most were providing me the briefest of nods before turning away.

  Standing by my side, I could feel Malulain's anguish at the death and long journey back to Valenwood that awaited him and his brethren. But there was a strength within him, a pride of completing such a task and succeeding despite the odds that had been arrayed against them.

  "We now return to Valenwood," there was a distinct twinge of happiness in his voice at the prospect of returning home after so long. "You too will return as we walk separate paths from here. Know that you have won my respect, and the respect of brothers and sisters."

  Fumbling with some difficulty with his good hand, he managed to unbuckle a small sheath from his side and held it out to me. "The use of a sword calls for the payment in kind. You fought by our sides tonight without thought of reward or thanks. For that, you can count me and my clan as friends and allies."

  Carefully, I took the dagger and the sheath from his hand and saw how the dagger was beautifully fashioned the same as the other Rangers from a single length of bone. What I also noticed was this was far more heavily detailed than the others I had seen that night.

  "If the time comes that you need to call upon myself or the Circles, take that dagger to Falinesti and show it to the druid circle. No matter where you are in Tamriel we will come to you aid." With a brief glance back at the death filled ruins his gaze hardened into a mask of determination. "In these dark days we all may need as much help as we can get."

  "If I call for aid I'll try not to drag you into a fight with a thousand-year-old necromancer and a pack of daedra."

  The grin we shared was mutual, and for a brief moment we grasped each other's arms firmly. "Safe travels Kaius. May the Green assist you in your travels."

  We turned away from each other, and I took a moment to glance up at the stars to gain my bearings, and down to the dagger that I held in a fist. It was almost more of a work of art than a killing tool, and what such a gift represented was not to be taken lightly. It was a sign of the utmost faith and trust and a pledge forged in the darkness of the night against the backdrop of death.

  Turning to say my parting farewells I found myself alone in the darkness as Malulain and his kin vanished as quickly and as easily as they had appeared, and leaving me on my own. Blood was congealing on my clothing and armour, my body was battered, bruised and bleeding in places and I would have trouble walking for a few days but the immaculate bone dagger in its sheath of spider's web, chitin and leather showed to me that it all wasn't a dream. For the final moments that I stood where the forest thickened I listened carefully, but whether the music I heard was a memory or a brief moment of clarity to the hidden songs of the world I couldn't tell.