He could feel it...the icy claws of his nightmare gripping his heart. It was nothing he had seen before, but something he knew all too well: the dreadful darkness...the lonely darkness...it was as if it were drowning him in Vaermina's own icy black tears. However, it was not his mistress of nightly terrors who called to him, for there was something far more ominous within the abyss of fear. He knew this familiar sensation all too well, and knew it meant only one thing: his master, the holder of all damning wisdom, was about to speak!

"His time is near, a most tainted twist of fate is about to befall him. You must seek him out, for he is the key...OUR key..."

His whispers were akin to having his very psyche violently assaulted by the talons of both a hagraven and a Hunger. To say it was painful would be both an understatement and a misinterpretation. Agony of the greatest and most unimaginable kind was the closest that he could describe it to be as he woke. As his vision cleared from a mix of shock and drowsiness, his senses came back to him and as to what his surroundings are: the smell of charred oak as the ashes of the decrepit hearth simmered, the cold caress of the Nordic winds as they descended down the cliffs of the Dragontail Mountains in the distance, and the sound of creaking wood coming from the roof of the abandoned shack he lay in.

It had not been his first choice as a campsite, but he had no other choice given the cold icy rain the day before. He had been traveling nonstop for 2 1/2 days now, which would not have been an issue otherwise had he not had to deal with a group of Nord-hating Thalmor sympathizers. He had managed to end their pathetic lapdog-like existences with mild ease, but their magicks had proven draining on himself. They weren't by any means the first of their kind he had slain, but he had done well to stay out of the ever growing conflict that was the Imperial-Nordic Border Stand Off up until that point. After their skirmish, finding this decaying cabin was on par with finding a thousand gold septims. It was no better than sleeping inside a rotting tree, but he wasn't one to complain. After all, it was exactly what he needed.

Sitting up in his cot, he looked out the window sill, and gazed at the distant mountains. He had previously held the instructions to travel this close to the Skyrim border, given to him by his dark master. What he didn't hold until just now, however, was why he was sent all this way north from Haven in Valenwood. It had baffled him...until his lord mentioned him. He did not know who this man was, but he understood how to find him. Unfortunately, it meant somehow crossing over the border in secret and finding his way to the fated one's village within 20 days. He knew what was to come, and he knew that he had to reach Rorikstead before the 21st of Sun's Dusk at any and all costs...

The sun was close to starting its descent into the horizon, and the chilled wind of Sun's Dusk blew as the young boy watched from underneath hill top tree. He was covered in dirt from tending to the chickens and goats his mother owned, and sore beyond belief after playing with the other children of his village. Well, playing isn't quite correct for they had actually roughed him up yet again. The boys of his village did not like him, and they made it clear.

First, there was his name: Nillo. It was an old Nordic name that few even used, as it was last worn brazenly by the aptly named Nillo the King Butcher. This wasn't something that the children actually understood, but was sadly something that an elderly traveler had pointed out and openly scorned poor Nillo with. To make matters worse, Nillo was also smaller and frailer than the other boys. These combined made him an easy target to them and made him a social pariah with most of the children in Rorikstead.

Still despite all of their ill-treatment, Nillo could always find solace in sitting under this tree atop this hill, and watch out over the rolling tundra planes of Skyrim. It was always beautiful, rain or snow, and it always made him feel happy and at peace when his mother joined him whenever she wasn't busy tending to their small farm or helping with the weekly feasts at the inn. Even now when she wasn't there with him, he felt content as he laid back, closed his eyes, and drifted off slowly…

Peace…you feel it now…but it shall never last, my chosen pawn…
Those words echoed in his head for mere seconds as soon as he fell into his sleep, but even as he bolted awake immediately after he found the sky was almost completely dark. Despite the cold, his skin was awash with sweat, his heart giving an aching pulse every other second that echoed even in his ears, and his breath was short. Never before had the young boy felt such terror and fear in any of his eight winters of life, and never before had he felt such dread as he knew something wasn't quite right…

"Nillo! Where are you?!" echoed the worried call of Alva, his mother, as it snapped him out of his trance. He realized with disbelief that it must have been past dinner time and even bed time by now, even when he felt that he had fallen asleep only a moment past. What disturbed him far more, however, was the realization that he couldn't even remember what he dreamt nor what had scared him so badly. All he knew…was that it had been beyond his or any other's comprehension…
He got to his feet even as he shook and ran as fast as he could to his mother's side, the young boy doubling over with deep panting. He had already been short of breath from his nightmare, but now he was absolutely breathless as he looked up at his mother through the strands of his shoulder-length hair.

"I-I'm so sorry, momma! I didn't mean to be late!" his voice trembled as he spoke, causing Alva to take notice.

"Nillo, where have you been? What happened? You look as if you had seen a dragon…" her voice trailed off as a fear began to grow inside of her, not wishing for the village to have another attack from the fearsome spawn of Akatosh after nearly twenty years of peace from the fiendish creatures. To her relief, he shook his head and continued.

"N-no…I was taking a nap up under the tree, and…I-I had a nightmare…*his eyes became downcast as he began to feel the terror again, its grasp overwhelming him. To his relief, it was quickly chased away by the warm embrace of his mother as she rested his head upon her bosom and gave him a warm smile. He returned the affection as he hugged back, feeling all of his worries disappear and all of his fears fade away into the night as she spoke with a gentle care.

"Do not worry, for I will protect you from those night terrors and their kin. Now, you should hurry on inside, my little one. I made rabbit stew for dinner, and it will get cold if you do not hurry" his eyes lit up instantly at her words, his stomach growling loudly at the thought of his favorite dish having been made. Without even a thought he scurried into their small farm house with glee heavy in his heart and his terror discarded from his memory. This sight delighted Alva to no end, and it always had when he was but a babe and even now still.

As they sat at the small table in front of the fireplace of their home, the room aglow with the fire's warm light and filled with the sounds of its crackling sparks, Alva spoke of the same ancient Nordic stories that had been told for ages past by their forefathers. As old as these stories were, Nillo neither noticed nor took any offense to any of them. All that mattered was being able to hear them, as he had grown up listening to his mother quote them in her special way. She told him again of Ragnar the Red and his foolish pride, of Olaf One-Eye, and even of the legendary Dovakiin of the 4th Ear; but by far his favorite was always the one that concerned him the most, the one of his father.

"He was a kind and gentle man, my little one" she spoke with great fondness, just as she always did for him.

"How did you meet him, momma?" Alva giggled softly at her child's excited interest.

"Well, I was in Whiterun when we met. I was a member of the proud Greymane Clan that resides there, and he was a travelling noble…or so he claimed. He also proclaimed how 'beautiful' I was 'with hair like silken gold and eyes as blue and clear as diamonds'" she once again smirked as she saw Nillo's knowing look of skepticism "and I was not one bit convinced. After all, how was I to know whether he was being serious or that he was rather just yet another suitor sent by a friend of my father? I was, after all, being constantly assaulted with weak proclamations of affection and flattery by lesser men who wanted only my hand and title for their pride. Again and again, I ignored his flattery and praise, wishing neither to hear it nor be given them byu him or any other man I had no prior knowing's of. One day, he decided to try something different. He came to me and instead of flattery; he decided to make a wager. I was...admittedly brazen when it came to games of chance, and somehow he had figured this out. He wagered that if he could prove himself a better man than the others as well as prove that his love for me was genuine, that I had to marry him".

Nillo let out a giggle "but he proved himself, didn't he momma?" Alva smiled warmly and continued her story.

"Yes he did, and in quite an amazing way! Under the fullness of both moons, he guided me to the base of the Gildergreen tree at the center of the town, and…" she could only smile as watched her son's eyes widen in anticipation to hear of what had happened. "…he gave me an amulet of Mara, a symbol of marriage and eternal love, as both a sign that he truly loved me and that he truly wanted for me to be his eternally! Marriage to us Nords is never taken lightly, especially when it involves an amulet of Mara, and I knew then and there that he meant it because I knew he was not foolish enough to lie about such a divinely symbol". She smiled with such happiness and closed her eyes as she remembered the warmth of that moment, how the tenderness of his voice had caressed her ears as he spoke with gentle yet poetic words to her that night. Nillo couldn't help but smile as he saw the warmth of his mother's expression, touched by how happy his father had made her.

Yet, as with most stories of this kind, he knew what came next and it only melted away the happiness he felt. "but…he isn't here…he has never been here with us…" he could only watch despairingly as his mother came down from her happy memory, and sigh in a suddle sadness.

"He was with us until your second moon. You see, Nillo, your father had to leave us here. My father had never agreed with our union and even payed men to hunt down your father and kill him. What's more, your father had his own family to deal with. He had to keep us safe…no matter the cost…and so he left us in order to lead the bad men away" she could only force a smile at this point as Nillo felt his temper begin to grow.

"…but he never came to see us…he never even bothered to write. I don't even know him…" his eyes drifted away to the fire as loneliness set into his heart. He felt like his father never cared, that he only married his mother for personal gain just like all the bad noblemen in the stories.

"no…but he did have his reasons" Alva wrapped her arms around her son
as she spoke with in a tender whisper. "He knew that if my father had hired the kind of men who would kill for gold, that they would not hesitate to use us as leverage. They would most likely hurt us or even worse in order to gain what they wanted…and he could not risk that, especially for your sake. I always told him how you had his eyes and how they glowed just as his did, stubborn as an ox yet gentle like the first breeze of an early spring" she smiled down into Nillo's eyes, and watched as he smiled back even just slightly, his faith in his father reaffirmed. "now, off to bed my little one. We must get up early and tend to the harvest before the winter can reap it instead" and with that she gave a tender kiss upon his forehead and watched as he trotted off to his small bed before putting out the fire and settling into her own with a whisper into the night "may you find happiness where ever you are, my beloved…". With that, they both drifted off into their peaceful sleep. If only…they had more…

My fated one awaits, my disciple, but his time draws short…soon the tainted mongrel will reap…soon he shall feast…soon…soon…it will be too late…