Chapter 1

I trust that you have heard of me; I am Siglak son of Lorik Fox-tread. By my hand was Alduin slain and the world spared from doom. That was a chapter of my life that any bard shall sing, yet there are things that bards will leave unsung. Indeed, this tale would likely be lost to history if I were not to tell you now of my guilt and the dark deeds that I have done.

With the threat of Alduin gone, old thought began to return. True, I had taken comfort in seeing my dead friends and family in Sovngarde, but it was not enough. Those who had caused their deaths were still alive and well. Only Rulindil had met his well-deserved death. I did not think that all of the guilty would be punished; surely I could not punish the Thalmor leaders, nor could I punish the Emperor for signing away his people's rights. The latter of these is the topic of our tale, and so too is the price I paid for vengeance.

For a while I tried to live a quieter life; I bought a house in Whiterun and started working again at War Maidens, but my heart was still restless. I felt troubled every time that Idolf Battle-Born walked by in his damned Imperial uniform. Every time that I herd Hiensker try to remind the people that the Thalmor were still in Skyrim, I wanted to do something about it. So one day I took my Katana—which the Blades gave me after Dragon's Bane was lost in the fight against the World Eater—and shield. "Are you leaving?" Lydia positioned herself at the bottom of the stairs so as to block my path. "I knew it would come eventually; it's why you came back to Skyrim after all."

"I can't stand idly by while Skyrim Bleeds, and the Empire does nothing about it," I said, but then I smiled as a thought came to me. "You could come with me Lydia; together we'll be the best Stormcloaks to ever take the blue."

"Are you ordering me to?"

"No. Why or how could I?"

"You're my thane; if you ordered me to, then I would be duty bound to do so."

"You have never been a servant to me Lydia. I have never wanted you to be. Follow your heart; it's served you well so far."

"I have to follow Siglak; even if you do not order me to come with you, I must see to your safety. If you want me to stay, then you have to order it."

"I order you do as you wish."

She stepped to the side and let me pass. "I will follow you Siglak. Not as a thane, but as a friend."

"I would not have it any other way."

The road was long, but Lydia was good company to have. She often seemed to be cold and quiet. When there were others around, she would eye them suspiciously and speak as little as possible. In that way, she was the best kind of Nord. At first she wouldn't trust people, but like many Nords, trust was something you had to earn. When you earned it, she was very pleasant. That's not to say she still didn't have a commanding presence, and a disciplined, hard expression that reminded me of an anvil in terms of strength. But there were those moments when she opened up to those lucky few that she did trust.

"So tell me again about Sovngarde." She had asked a dozen times about it, and how could she be blamed? It was what all Nords strived for. But there was something in particular she wanted to hear about.

"Your father looked well. He was as strong as he was in his days as the Captain of the Guard." Lydia started to laugh softly. "What is it?"

"Remember when I first started training you with the sword?"

"Are you thinking about…."

"Did he really lock you up?"

I nodded. "He had his guards arrest me and drag me to the dungeon so he could ask me what I was doing with his daughter."

"Say it again, will you? You say it so well."

I tried to make my voice sound deeper and more imposing like Crofta's, and I leaned closer to Lydia so that I was right in her face. "You listen to me, blacksmith boy; if my daughter wishes to train you in swordplay, so be it, but place even a single foot wrong, and I will lock you in here until your arms are too withered to hold a hammer, let alone a sword."

Lydia took a step back and laughed. "And the funny part was, he told me you whimpered like a child."

"I did no such thing. I merely told him that I did not think of you in that way and that we were merely training together…and even if I did…perhaps…make a sound similar to that of whimpering, could you blame me? Your father could scare a troll away just by glaring at it. What's worse, he didn't seem to believe me, and so I feared for my safety for a few moments."

"Can you blame him? It must have been hard after that night." She stopped laughing. "Do you remember that night?"

I stopped dead in my tracks. How could I forget that night? She was praying to Talos for strength by the old gilder green. I had come to pray too, and when she asked me what I prayed for, I told her that it was a prayer of thanks, for fortune, family, and friends. I said that Talos had been good to me, and I mentioned her as a friend that I was blessed to have. She said that she felt the same, and the very air around us seemed listen as the chirping of night time insects softly sounded and the hovering torch bugs appeared to watch and wait for what could have happened next. We stood close together, but as close as we came, we didn't quite touch that night, and it was the most we ever dared to test ourselves. "I remember that night well, Lydia."

"So what happened at that moment? We both knew what almost happened."

"I don't know Lydia, but that was so long ago."

"I guess things change. At least I like this new you well enough." She cracked a smile. "Though I'm afraid that this Dragonborn business is going to go to your head." The smile was short lived, and for the rest of the journey, I tried not to think of that night. For years afterwards, I merely told myself that what had happened was a brew of curiosity and passion. Perhaps it was better that discretion had stepped in before we acted like young fools. With all the things that would come later in my life, I hardly had time for anything of the sort.

It was late when I entered the city; by this time, I could hardly assume that anyone would be awake at the palace. So Lydia and I stayed at the inn for the night and we had a few mugs of mead while I listened to a few good rumors. One in particular caught my ear though. "Did you hear about the Arentino boy?" The innkeeper asked me.

"I couldn't name you ten people in this town, much less know their business." I chuckled.

"He ran away from the Riften orphanage and came back here."

I took a deep drink from my mug; I had a special sympathy for orphans, having been one myself. "What brings the boy back here?"

"That's the strange part." She leaned closer and whispered softly into my ear. "Rumor has it that he's preforming the black sacrament."

I raised an eyebrow, both actually. "What would he want with a cut throat assassin from the Brotherhood?"

"I can't say I know, but it can't be good," The Innkeeper replied. I nodded, thinking it over. The boy was likely angry and confused, and he was certainly all alone if no one knew for sure what he was doing.

"Poor boy needs help it seems," Lydia said, very casually.

"Does he now?" I knew what she was up to, but it was a distraction that I wanted no part in.

"I wonder where he'll get it. With the war going on, all of the heroes are probably busy."

"It seems that way to me." I was so close; Windhelm Palace was within reach.

"And with the temporary peace going on, who knows how long the war will go on."

"I guess so." She made a good point, or suggested anyways. It was not like I was going to miss the whole war.

I slept on the thought, and in the morning, I decided to see for myself what was going on. I had waited quite a while to join the Stormcloaks, so surely another hour or so would not hurt.

The lock on the door was easy enough to pick, and people seemed to avoid the house, making it easy to go unspotted. Lydia waited outside to watch for the occasionally passing guard. "Die Grelod die!" That shout greeted me as I walked up a small flight of stairs and found the young black haired Arentino boy tapping a dagger against the floor next to a skeleton, a human heart, and a purple peddled nightshade flower. It all sat in a ring of candles, and the boy chanted, "Sweet mother, sweet mother, send your child unto me, for the sins of the unworthy must be baptized in blood and fear." Then he must have heard my footsteps, because he whirled around quickly. "It's you, I knew you'd come." He cheered excitedly.

"Listen child, I'm not who you think I am," I said.

"What? Of course you are. You're from the Dark Brotherhood, and you're here to because I performed the black sacrament, with the bones and the other things."

"Why in Oblivion would you want to summon a damned assassin?" I was still baffled by the heart on the floor; a set of bones could be taken from the hall of the dead, but a fresh looking heart?

"My mother died a while ago." The boy whimpered. "I had to go live in the orphanage in Riften. It's run by a mean old lady name Grelod the Kind, but she's not kind, she's mean. But now that you're here, you'll kill Grelod the kind." The way that boy looked at me was horrifying. He was trying to hire me as a killer, and the candle light on his pale face illuminated an expression of such joy. The child needed guidance, but I could hardly be the one to give it. At the time, I thought that his hate for Grelod was merely misplaced grieving for his mother, and perhaps this Grelod woman was quite nice. It mattered little though; this boy was intent on killing her, and she needed to be warned before a real assassin showed up. I decided that I would go to Riften, but it would be to tell this Grelod what the boy planned. With any luck, she could evade the eventual knife in the dark.

A little gold paid mine and Lydia's way to Riften in a quick carriage. What an odd contradiction this city was when compared to how unalike it was to the land outside the walls. In autumn, the oaks and maple color themselves in brilliant reds and oranges and yellows; the pines hold their green, yet it blends well with the other colors that surround it in a brilliantly beautiful mix. Deer, elk, and rabbits run through the woods with an intense haste as winter would soon be upon them. The very air smelled like the splendor of nature. And yet, there was Riften; it was, in those days, a pit of serpents. Apart from the obvious Thieves Guild that inhabited the city, of which I once aided in exchange for the location of Esbern the Blade, there were the Black-Briars.

How does one describe that wicked family? Upon my first time entering the city—after the guards nearly shook me down for what they called a 'visitor's fee'—I was confronted by a thug who warmed me to stay out of the Black-Briars' affairs. That was the least of it though; I could not forget that Maven Black-Briar was a guest at the Thalmor party which I had infiltrated. Now she was the Jarl of Riften; a woman who was said to have ties to the Dark Brotherhood and the Thieves Guild, and she was now officially in charge of the city.

There were some honest folk in the city. Certainly the Argionans who ran the inn were good people, and the merchants seemed fair enough. I had assumed that this Grelod would be the same way, just a poor soul trying to make it in a city of thieves. I opened the doors to find something quite different.

"Those who shirk their responsibilities will get an extra beating. Do I make myself clear?" The thin, grey haired woman looked over the children with pure contempt.

"Yes Grelod." They all answered in unison.

"And I will hear no more talk of adoption; nobody needs you, nobody wants you, and that is why you are here, and why you will always be here until you come of age and get thrown out into that wide horrible world. Now what do you say?"

"We love you Grelod; thank you for your kindness."

I was filled with indignation at this woman as she dismissed the children to go do their chores. The Arentino boy truly wasn't joking when he said that she was not kind. For a moment, I considered walking away, and letting an assassin from the Dark Brotherhood come for her, but I decided against it; as horrible as she was, she should at least get fair warning. "Excuse me miss," I said, "I would like to discuss something with you."

"Are your ears useless, or your brain?" She said, her mouth twisting sourly.

"Excuse me?" I said raising my eyebrows.

"I just said that the Children aren't up for adoption, and besides, why would you want any of them? Tomon!" She shouted, and a little Imperial boy stepped forward. "Tomon is the most useful brat here, and he's still worth less than a mangy stray dog. Isn't that right Tomon?"

The boy never looked up from the ground as he softly mumbled, "Yes Grelod."

"Get back to your chores!" She shouted at him before slapping him upside the head.

"Excuse me sir." I turned to see a dark skinned woman with long black hair motioning for me to come over to her. She led me to her small room and closed the door behind her. "The children aren't up for adoption." She whispered softly and still eyed the door expecting Grelod to open it.

"What a vile woman." It took effort not to outright curse. "How could someone like that take care of children?"

"Grelod is old and set in her ways. She doesn't know any other way to take care of them." The woman opened the door to the room then led Lydia and me to the exit and motioned for me to leave. "Now if that is all, please be on your way; Grelod hates, visitors."

I stopped in the doorway and said to the young woman, "Her cruelty will be the end of her." It already is the end of her, I thought to myself. Any desire I had to save that woman's life was gone; now, it had been replaced with a desire to end it myself.

That night, after Lydia was asleep at the inn. I picked the lock in the orphanage and crept quietly to Grelod's room, with my dagger drawn. I was one step away from standing beside her when the floorboard creaked and the old woman began to raise her head. Quickly, I clapped my hand over her mouth and began to stab into her chest, then my hand slipped for only a second before I covered her mouth again. But alas, in that one moment she let out a slight cry. It did not matter though, as it did not wake the whole of the orphanage, just one child.

Tomon was the only one that woke up as I tried to sneak out, leaving Grelod's body there to stain the blankets with her blood. He looked at me, and then to Grelod's room. I just put a finger to my lips. He would not recognize me with the cloth rapped around my head, but even if he did, I had a feeling he would not tell anyone what he had seen.

Did I shed a tear for this woman? I did not then, and I shed none now. What I would come to regret though was what would come after, for this was my first leap towards the darkest days of my life. Soon after returning to Windhelm, I received a letter. The courier did not know who had written it, and it only said, "We Know".

Here is the third installment of the Dragonborn series. I apologize for taking this long to get this sequel uploaded, but with the summer here, I now have plenty of time to upload and write. I hope you guys enjoy.