Despite the coolness of the air it took some time for me to stop sweating as much and I was deeply troubled by my dream. There was once a time where I regarded dreams with indifference and discarded them from my mind just as easily, but of late and fuelled by my vampiric side they had been gaining a more realistic quality and meaning behind them all. I knew that despite how I felt, there would be no more sleep for me that morning.

  Carefully, so no to disturb Viconia I detangled myself from her embrace. As we normally did, we would fall asleep in a collection of limbs and flesh on flesh under our travelling blankets but as the night progressed we would shift into our own positions. There was a proximity and closeness to the way we slept together but there was also no denying the individuality we both shared. This mutual desire for our own space made it easy at least for either of us to rise without disturbing the other.

  The dream and the many others like it I had suffered over the previous months were still playing through my mind even as consciousness stripped them of potency as I dressed myself. Soon I was prepared for the day ahead, both clad in my clothes and my armour and it was only when Sunchild was at my side once more than I felt some sense of comfort and security.

  Fully dressed and armed, and with a momentary glance over Viconia's sleeping form I turned and made my way through the collection of tents towards the towering statue of Kynareth. For a short time, I felt as though I was the only person awake as many of the travellers and pilgrims were still sound asleep within their own tents and lean-tos. The sun was only just peeking above the horizon as I reached the base of the massive statue, looking up into the carved representation of the Goddess Kynareth and feeling a strange chill course through me that had nothing to do with the morning temperatures.

  For what seemed to be an age I stood there, looking over the age-worn marble and almost being able to count the centuries engraved into its form. It had been there for an incredibly long time, and despite the lack of attention and care that it had received from the generations of priests that had made the shrine their home it was still in good order. The goddess' features were still clear and distinct, allowing me to see the motherly smile and the outstretched arms welcoming visitors to the area, but still holding a sense of godly power about her. Whoever had carved the statue had been a master stonemason.

  Movement from within the lines of tents and from the priory house grabbed my attention and the shrine's priests and priestesses were moving in a small group towards the edge of the clearing and the views of the Nibenay Valley. They moved slowly but with distinct purpose as they made a rough semicircle the east and the rising sun.

  Their words were softly spoken as they murmured in prayer, their robes flowing in the slight breeze and totally oblivious to anything or anyone around them. I watched as they stood there, almost swaying in time with nature's own rhythm, softly chanting to themselves and I was suddenly struck with how much they resembled the Bosmer Rangers after the battle against Eregor and Graithlan. These were another group of individuals who had given themselves to nature they did differ from the invisible and secretive wood elves. There was sense of peace and connection about them as they praised the dawn, returning Kynareth's blessings for the wonders of nature and welcoming the new day by pulling back their concealing hoods and feeling the warmth of the sun on their weather beaten features.

  The ceremony was over quickly, and was surprisingly simple compared to many of the other religious ceremonies that I had witnessed before. There were no offerings, no sermons or grand speeches, just the simple acknowledgement of the wonders of nature and giving thanks.

  As the priesthood broke up and the individual members moved away to conduct their morning routines and other activities that required their attentions, Avita came over to me where I was standing at the base of the statue. She smiled warmly as she got close, clasping her hands in front in greeting.

  "Good morning Sir Desin. I hope that you and Madame DeVir slept well."

  I bowed slightly in respect and smiled warmly. "Viconia is still asleep, and I would like to say that I rested peacefully but I'd be lying."

  "Troubled sleep?"

  My nod answered her question and she motioned for me to follow.

  "Everyone is troubled, and I know and understand why someone such as yourself is. You have weight on your shoulders unlike many have ever experienced."

  "Saving the world tends to do that."

  She laughed and I couldn't help but do the same. "You both have accomplished much, but now you find yourselves here, seeking that which has claimed hundreds, if not thousands of lives over the centuries. The Boots cannot be retrieved."

  "They have to be." Her expression was quizzical but she let me continue, "The Whitestrake's ancient foe is returning and the relics have to be reunited."

  "Do you truly believe that Umaril is returning?" Avita said softly, but it wasn't fear or disbelief that filled her voice but a pained hopelessness that could only have been brought on by many similar conversations and arguments.

  "I know he is. I also know that Viconia and I are the only two who have much chance of success in retrieving Pelinal's relics."

  "Oh to be young and to have such confidence." She said simply with less sarcasm than she probably had intended. "What makes you think that you can retrieve the boots. Better yet, what makes you think that you both will be the ones to wield them against Umaril."

  "We're not the ones to wield them, and so far I doubt that anyone else has had as much luck retrieving the other relics as we have. The Cuirass and the Helm have already been recovered."

  Judging by her expression and the way she sat quietly looking at me she had initially believed that I had been lying or fabricating stories to increase our fame. There must have been something in my manner that convinced her that I was telling the truth, and I could almost hear the way that her breath quickened.

  "From all the stories that I have heard about the two of you I would have expected a lot more bluster and pride, not humility." Carefully, her hands found their way in front of her and I could see the nervous energy that made her wring them together. "Just last week the Bishop from Bravil had come and told us all to ignore any calls for a crusade for the relics, that the call as such had been illegal and wasn't sanctioned by the Church of the Nine. It hasn't stopped us noticing that the number of pilgrims and faithful travelling here has increased significantly."

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  There will be many more to come to try to retrieve the boots. Even if Viconia and I don't succeed."

  "I know." She admitted sadly. "I have been the High Priestess here for seven years, and have lived here for five more before that. During that time, I have honestly and ashamedly lost count of how many have tried and failed the retrieve the boots. So many knights and travelling warriors of great skill and equal renown arrive seeking glory and honour and so many of them don't return from the grove."

  "Few like those two yesterday are simply found at the edge of the woods over there." Her hand gestured to the far end of the clearing where an obvious path snaked into the forest where it was noticeably thicker and denser than the surrounding woods. "Kynareth returns only a few who attempt her trial, and I don't remember any who lived anything more than a day or two after the attempt."

  "What is the trial?"

  Moving over to one of the crudely carved benches arrayed like pews before the towering statue, she lowered herself into it and motioned for me to do the same. "I honestly do not know. When I first came here I too was seeking to test myself, but I could not bring myself to take those steps along the path. The day that I arrived someone else had tried, and failed. His body was found like all the others; horribly rent and almost torn in two, covered in wounds that I have never seen the like of outside of the worst of battles."

  "You have seen battle?"

  Her smile seemed to lighten up her features and underneath the aging frame there were the hints of the strong woman she had been in her youth. "You could say that. I once served in the Legion."

  "You don't look like a legionary."

  "I'll take that as a compliment. I'm not sure my honour could withstand being compared to one of those slow footed brutes." She shook her head and lifted the loose sleeve of her monk robes to reveal an arm covered in sword scars and the legion brand on her bicep. "I was once Primus Lanceae of the 6th."

  "First Lance? Well you certainly outranked me, I only made it to Praefect in the 14th."

  "You're a lot younger than I was." The eyes glanced over my armour and clothing for a moment and narrowed. "Although you are very young to be retired from the Legion."

  The months since deserting and since my 'official' pardon had been sent to the Legion from Jauffre, I had spent a considerable amount of time considering my options when that question eventually arose. To leave the Legion was either old age, death or medical invalidity. I certainly wasn't the first two options which had forced me to come up with an excuse that didn't involve desertion or the Blades.

  "Caught black lung during my service in Vvardenfell. It's going to kill me one day but I couldn't simply sit down and wait for my end to come."

  "So you started roaming the world and throwing yourself into Oblivion portals and getting a Knighthood as a result. I suppose from what I've heard of the Vvardenfell Legions, a portal to Oblivion is a holiday."

  "What about you then? You don't seem to have reached retirement age."

  The smile I received from my half-disguised compliment turned into a laugh. "No. I still have a few years left before I would have reached that age. I too was deemed invalid, but not from a disease." The sigh killed the laugh almost as quickly as a sword stroke and her face softened at old memories. "I was thirty-nine and had been serving the 6th in southern Hammerfell for over twenty years. One day my Extraordinarii cohort were tasked in hunting down a group of brigands that had been harassing the local trade caravans. Instead of a quick and easy smash-and-burn I ended up getting unhorsed and in the fight I got kicked in the head by a hoof."

  Her fist rapped against the side of her head and the smile was grim and yet revealing none of the pain or sorrow she still experienced. "I woke up three weeks later and was told that my helmet had been crushed and had shattered my skull. Still got a chunk of metal in there. The first fits started a few weeks later and while they aren't as common now, the Legion couldn't afford having the Primus Lanceae falling off her horse in mid battle."

  "So you were forced to retire."

  "Indeed. I wandered around for a bit before finding my way here. I thought that if I did something like retrieve the Boots of Kynareth that the Legion would let me back in. Ha, if my skull had been as thick as my stubbornness I wouldn't have been injured in the first place. Instead when I arrived here I felt... I don't know, a connection of sorts that I can't explain. Seeing the way that young adventurer had ended up was the last little nudge of common sense that I needed and so I stayed. Even became a priest."

  "We've both come long ways it seems."

  "It's not the distance, but the journey that I've found that is long." She motioned to my bruised face and the way that I had been limping before we had sat. "My role these days is a guide for those on their journeys, even if this place is the end of it."

  "You are not going to try to stop me from attempting the trial?"

  There was a shake of the head and the sorrow appeared in full force. "I can't. It isn't my place to stop those seeking Kynareth's Relics, only to guide them. When I became a priest here I swore an oath that I must fulfil, even if I know it will only lead to your death."

  She must have seen the way that I turned and looking back to where Viconia and I had set up our tent. Viconia was still asleep as far as I could tell and at that moment I felt more concerned about her reaction of what I was about to do than the act itself.

  "I still have to try at least."

  "Alone?"

  Wetting my lips with my tongue I nodded. "I can handle putting myself in danger, but not putting Viconia in harm's way. Besides, I have a suspicion that this is something that one can only do so alone?"

  Avita nodded. "Many who have come had tried to go in together but the route to the grove is no simple path. Some who have entered together have emerged minutes later after being separated within the first dozen metres and only one of their number undertook the trial. It is clear though that whatever occurs, you must do so by yourself."

  "Is there anything else you can tell me about it?"

  "The one thing that all of us here have been instructed through the generations of priests is that we are to remind everyone attempting the Trial to heed Kynareth's teachings. Specifically, to 'fear and respect Nature and all Her Creations."

  "Fear and respect?"

  "Indeed. Nature itself is Kynareth's domain, all of its creatures are her wards. If you heed nothing else, then heed this."

  "Well then." I said as I rose to my feet, checked how secure Sunchild was to my hip and tried and failed not to grimace at the flaring pain in my leg as it bore my weight. "Might as well do this while the morning is still young."

  Together we moved towards the winding path leading through the forest and as we got closer I saw just exactly how thick the trees, vines, shrubs and creepers were together. There was barely enough space for anything larger than a rabbit to pass through and for that fact alone, even without the strange tingling in the base of my skull I knew that there was something strange about this portion of the forest.

  "As soon as you step onto this path the test will begin." Avita said as I stood before it, looking down at how well-worn the dirt track was as it disappeared around a bend less than ten metres into the vegetation. "Kynareth may choose to guard you along the way; that is up to her. I wish you good luck Sir Desin. I hope I see you again."

  The tone in her voice was sad and I knew as well as she did that she didn't expect me to survive, or if I did it would be in the same state as the two knights ripped to pieces in the priory house. The sights of how terribly maimed they were entered my mind as I looked between her and the path leading deeper into the forest and I gave her a smile before beginning to limp my way down it.