A/N: So this chapter ended up being longer than I thought, but there is quite a bit of back-story that's revealed. I added Sargoth's childhood memory to try and bring some joy back into the story, especially seeing how the last chapter ended, so I hope you enjoy it.

Thank you to MightyMerlin, Inferno VI-VI-VI & shifty53 for your kind feedback :)

"I thought I'd make you a bite to eat," I heard Sengar say softly as I turned around toward him.

"I'm not hungry," was all I said back.

"You've been saying that every day for the past month Sargoth. You hardly eat anything anymore. You don't sleep, and when was the last time you went outside?" he asked me, obviously concerned.

I said nothing. My eyes drifted toward the floor as I continued to wallow in my grief.

"Very well, I'll keep it cold in case you change your mind," the old Breton said solemnly.

"It's my fault Sengar," I began.

"What do you mean dear boy?"

"It's my fault she's gone Sen!" I was struggling to speak as I stifled my sobs, "I should have tried harder to save her. I should have known how bad her depression was. I should have been there to stop her!" my voice grew with rage and I was weeping uncontrollably.

"Oh no no no, my boy. You did nothing wrong, you hear me? I don't ever want you to think this was in any way your fault," Sengar began to say as he came up to me and hugged me.

"Your mother loved you to the fullest extent a mother could possibly love her child. She had a very hard life, full of heartbreak and misfortune. But you, my boy, you were the one thing that made all her hardships worth it. You were the one thing that brought her joy. You were the sunlight that shone away her darkness, the fire that gave her warmth against the cold, the rose that grew in a field of weeds. Your mother was always proud of you, and you were the best son she could have asked for," Sengar said, desperately trying to ease my guilt.

"Then why did she kill herself?! Why isn't she still here? Tell me! How could she just leave me all alone like this?!" I shouted, unable to contain the emotions that dwelled inside me.

Sengar sighed, unsure of how to answer.

"I don't know, Sargoth. I truly do not know," he began, "No one can ever be sure what is truly lingering within another person's mind, or their heart. We can't always predict what other people will do. On the outside, some people can appear completely normal and happy and carefree, but on the inside can be a different story altogether. We can't ever truly know what is going on inside another person, no matter how much we think we know them. Perhaps it is not our business to know. In the case of your mother, perhaps her death is part of a plan of the Gods. Perhaps your tragedy may one day lead to something greater in your life."

"To Oblivion with the Gods! How can my mother slitting her own fucking throat open lead to something greater?!" I retorted angrily.

"Don't say such things my boy! The Gods watch over us all. They know what will happen to each of us. Everything they do is part of their grand plan," the old man said, trying to calm me down.

"No, I mean it Sengar. The Gods can burn in the fires of Oblivion itself. My mother prayed to them, day after day, week after week, month after month, year after year! She prayed every day for a better life for the both of us, and what did they do? Nothing! They let her continue suffering in her misery, they watched as she slowly deteriorated each day. They let her take her own life. If the Gods do care, why didn't they help ma? If this is part of some plan of theirs, I want no part in it. I hate the Gods, and I will curse their names as long as I breathe. I will choose my own path; I will live my life by my own plan!" I ran out of breath from my ranting.

Sengar didn't know how to reply. He knew nothing he said would calm me down.

"If that is your opinion, you are entitled to it. I will not try to change your mind; you are of the age where you must decide your own beliefs. But one day, you're going to have to learn to overcome your anger; your grief. If you continue to be haunted by the past, it will destroy your life. Hatred will begin to fester within you, and it will consume you and transform you into something terrible; something evil. Over time, that hatred will become the core of your being, and you won't even know who you are anymore. I know that's not what your mother would want for you," Sengar calmly explained to me.

I stood silently for a few more moments as my emotions continued to course through my soul. I worried helplessly about what was going to happen next; uncertain of what lay ahead in my future. I stared outside Sengar's window, and I watched as the clouds shrouded the light of the sun, much like how the sorrow within me had shrouded any happiness.

A month had passed since my mother's suicide. Sengar took me in and had let me stay with him. He tried his hardest to comfort me and care for me, but I was still an emotional wreck. My pain and grief hadn't even begun to heal. Every morning I woke up, hoping to find my mother standing over me, shaking me awake as she often did. I missed the way she kissed me every morning, I missed waking up to the smell of her delicious cooking, I missed watching her read as she sat in her favorite chair in the living room. I missed the warm, soothing hugs we exchanged every morning before starting our day. I missed the long, thoughtful discussions we would often have about life, the world, and the future. I missed just being able to go to her with any problem, and she would always know just what to say to me to brighten my spirits.

I was lost without ma. My heart had been ripped from my very chest and stomped on the ground. My life was a crystal ball that had been shattered into a million tiny shards. I was a ship without a sail, doomed to forever wander a sea of sorrow. I was an eagle whose wings had been cut off, no longer able to fly. I was a tree, standing alone in a vast desert, slowly withering from the harshness of the dry sand. I don't think mother was the only one who died that day; I think a part of me went with her. Each day was an agonizing struggle that felt as long as an entire era. I felt like I was lost in a dark tunnel with no hope of ever finding light at the end of it.

After a moment, I finally decided to go outside to get some fresh air, and I solemnly walked to my mother's grave and sat in front of it; staring endlessly at the epitaph etched within.

Ma's grave was the only place I went since she died. I would spend hours sitting in front of the stone; constantly cycling through my mind all the memories we had shared. Some days I even fell asleep there. I knew I was torturing myself by doing this, but I didn't care. While it was agonizing, at the same time it also brought a tiny measure of peace.

As I continued to weep in front of her grave, one particular memory began to stand out in my mind. It was the first time mother ever took me anywhere outside of Bravil. It remains one of my earliest and fondest memories of her.

I was four years old. It was the ninth day of Rain's Hand; winter had passed, the snow had melted, and the flowers were blooming once again. The white crystals of snow were replaced by the long, green blades of grass. It was a beautiful morning; certainly perfect for the wonderful vacation my mother had planned that day.

"Time to wake up little guy," she said as she lifted me from my bed and held me against her. "I have a surprise for you!"

"What is it mama? What is it?"

"We're going somewhere special!" was all she said.

I could barely contain my excitement. I remember running joyfully around our house as she set me down. After gathering everything we needed, ma brought us to the stables where a carriage she had hired was waiting for us. We got in the back of the carriage, and ma sat me down in her lap.

"Where we going mama? Where we going?" I began bugging my mother as the carriage started off.

"Oh all right, I'll tell you," she giggled, "We're going to a city called Anvil. It's waaaay far west from here. It's a much different place than Bravil, and much nicer." She said excitedly.

"How long will it take to get there?" I asked.

"I'm not exactly sure son. I'd say anywhere from six to eight hours," ma answered.

I managed to keep myself entertained by watching the gorgeous scenery as the carriage passed it by. I would point to every animal we saw; everything was fascinating to my young, curious mind.

"Look ma, a deer!" I would say as pure joy swept my heart.

"There are lots of those this time of year! He's probably looking for food; I imagine he has a family to feed too," ma explained to me.

I looked up toward the sky and I could see a lone eagle sitting atop a giant tree in the distance. It remained still for several moments, periodically turning its head as it scanned the wilderness for prey. Then, to my astonishment, the eagle lifted its wings and let out a mighty cry as it soared through the air. It descended toward the river, and within seconds of submerging itself under the water, it resurfaced, clutching a fish with its golden, curved beak.

"Did you see that mama? Did you?" I asked in total amazement; never before had I seen anything so fascinating.

"I sure did!" she replied excitedly as the monstrous bird flew above us with its helpless prey.

I ended up falling asleep about halfway through the trip, which cut off about three or four hours. After what seemed like an age, and after seeing so many wondrous sights, the carriage finally arrived at the gates of Anvil. We left very early in the morning, so it was still mid-afternoon by the time we got there.

I stared in wonder at the massive gate to the city that stood before us; large banners draped over the mountainous wall of stone that surrounded the city. My excitement grew as we neared the city.

"Greetings, Dunmer!" a lone gate guard said kindly, "What brings you to Anvil?"

"We're just here visiting for the day. I wanted to show my little boy around the city; a vacation I guess you could say," my mother answered the guard, she was holding my hand.

"Ah, splendid!" the guard said cheerfully as he looked down at me, "And what's your name little fella?" he asked.

I cowered and hid behind ma; clutching her dress.

"Oh don't mind him, he's just a little shy," ma chuckled, "His name is Sargoth. I'm Norvela."

"Well, I'd like to welcome both of you to Anvil. Before you go, I've got something for you Sargoth!" the guard said, and to my delight I saw him pull out a sweetroll. My face beamed with joy as he walked over and handed it to me.

"Thank you!" I said as I quickly consumed the delicious treat; giving a piece to ma.

The guard smiled and he opened the gate, and my mother and I stepped inside the city.

As we took our first steps in the city, I was completely in awe as I scanned my surroundings in all directions; this place was nothing like Bravil. The streets were paved with grey cobblestone; the buildings possessed an elegant architecture that had strong Redguard influences. Where the houses in Bravil were mostly wooden, worn down shacks that were stacked atop one another, the houses in Anvil were all built with stones. Magnificent manors lined the streets; some were as high as three or four storeys.

Many trees were lined all throughout the city, where the citizens would sit underneath the cool shade and discuss the happenings of the day. The Chapel of Dibella stood at the other end of town, with its towering steeple that reached the heavens. I had heard stories of its desecration by the forces of Umaril the Unfeathered; all of the clergy were slaughtered in the attack. A holy warrior known as the Divine Crusader resurrected the band of knights known as the Knights of the Nine, and together they stormed Umaril's stronghold and vanquished him for all eternity. There were legends that the Crusader actually crossed into the spirit plane itself, and there, he destroyed Umaril's very soul. Such a feat was unheard of before, and to a small child such as me, it was a story more epic than I could have possibly imagined.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" my mother uttered.

I simply nodded my head in agreement. I didn't want to leave this magnificent city; Bravil didn't even begin to match the beauty of Anvil. After admiring the exquisite scenery a moment longer, my mother and I went to an inn called The Count's Arms.

After making our way inside and seating ourselves at a table, I began looking all around the luxurious inn. There were other people sitting all around us; talking and telling jokes as they drank their expensive wine. Travelers were coming and going, with the owner giving kind greetings to everyone who came and renting out rooms to anyone who needed them. A bard stood to the side of the room, singing his merry tunes. There were one or two people sitting in a corner that had no drinks, but were simply reading books and had come inside to escape the hustle and bustle of the city. The building was heated by a fireplace that stood across the dining area. After eating a delicious lunch and relaxing for a while, my mother and I left the inn, and she then brought me down to the docks outside the city.

Anvil was a major trading port for all of Cyrodiil, and its docks were always filled with ships coming from all the provinces of Tamriel. I stood in amazement as I gazed at the hulking ships; their masts were like towering spires that reached the clouds themselves. There were a few shops and inns lining the docks, and sailors and traders were gathered all over the place, bartering goods and telling tales of their adventures.

What astounded me the most was the racial diversity that was present. There were folks from all over the continent of all different races, bantering with each other and sharing a laugh: Nords, Imperials, Argonians, Dunmer, Altmer, Khajiit. Cyrodiil was always more friendly to outsiders than Skyrim, and that is one of the things I miss the most about it. Tamriel has always had its fair share of racial discrimination, but here, everyone was equal. Everyone was enjoying each other's company, no matter where they were from, no matter their background. I remember the Anvil Port having a feeling of joy and harmony as I watched all the different folks converse amongst one another.

I ran ahead to the edge of the docks to get a closer look at the monstrous vessels as the waves crashed against the wooden planks. I could see more ships coming on the distant horizon; each one was bigger than the next.

"Quite amazing ain't they?" I heard someone ask. I looked to my left and standing next to me was a big, burly Nord. He wore a bandanna across his head, and he was wearing an old sailors' tunic that looked like it had seen better days.

"Uh-huh" was all I managed to respond.

"Is this your ship?" my mother asked as she stood behind me, pointing to the one closest to us.

"Certainly is, my lass. I've been sailin' her for more than three decades now I have. I inherited her from my pa after he passed when I was barely an adult. Got me own crew as well. Damn louts are probably off drunk in some tavern I reckon," the Nord sailor chuckled.

"Are you a pirate?" I asked curiously.

He let out a jolly laugh "Oh goodness no me lad! I was somethin' of a scallywag back when I was just a young'un, but those days are long past me. Nowadays I just run trade routes for the Empire, and they pay me well enough. Hopefully I can retire in a couple more years," the sailor said.

"Can I get on your ship?" I eagerly asked him.

"I don't see why not my boy, as long as yer mother's okay with it," he answered.

Ma smiled and nodded her head, and she held my hand as the Nord led us across the docks and onto his ship.

I immediately ran to the stern and stared down into the crystal clear water that was slightly rocking the large boat. I could see schools of fish swimming freely in swirling circles as the waves continued to rise and crash against the shore. I then ran to the large, circular steering wheel that stood in the center of the upper deck and began pretending to drive the ship.

"Look ma, I'm a pirate!" I yelled as I made steering motions with my hands.

Ma laughed, "Where we off to, Captain?" she asked, playing along.

"Everywhere! We're gonna sail all across Tamriel and beyond!" I responded eagerly, completely lost in my childlike innocence.

A few minutes passed, and my mother decided it was time for us to move on.

"We oughta get going little fella," she said, "I'm sure this man is very busy, and we still have more sights to see! How about I show you the lighthouse next?" she asked.

I nodded, and the Nord saw us off the ship.

"Thank you for your time, mister. I think you've made my little boy's day," my mother said to the sailor.

"No problem lass. It was a pleasure meetin' ya's. You take care of yerselves now!" the Nord waved at us as we left.

My mother and I then made our way to the lighthouse which was just a short distance away from the docks. Dusk was soon approaching, and as we finished the climb up the stairs and reached the top, the sky was shining a bright crimson as the sun departed and the twin moons began to rise. The fire of the lighthouse was lit, and the flaming embers illuminated the air as I felt its warmth caress my body.

Ma lifted me up onto her shoulders, and I gazed in wonder at the vast sea as the tides began to calm. I could see the endless green pastures that lay beyond the city, the dense forests that covered most of the terrain with trees that stood like giants. Seagulls were singing in the distance as they landed on the shore searching for their meal. As I sat atop my mother's shoulders, I felt like an eagle, soaring high and free across the infinite skies without a care or worry in the world. I felt like a mighty God, sitting among the clouds in the heavens upon a throne of gold as I watched the myriad creatures stirring in the lands below. In those brief moments, I felt like I could be anything I wanted; nothing could hold me back. I felt like the whole world was mine for the taking. Quite often in our lives, there are moments that are so perfect, so serene and beautiful, that we never want them to end. For me, that was one of those moments. That still remains one of the fondest memories I have, and trust me; I don't have many of those. My vivid imagination was simply overwhelmed by the wonders I had witnessed that day, and I knew that would be a day I would not soon forget.

Soon after, my mother set me down, and we descended the lighthouse and made our way back to The Count's Arms. Nightfall had fully arrived, and the sky was fully dark by the time we made it back to the inn. We went into the luxurious suite that ma had rented for the night, and after she lit a fire, we both lay in the large bed, smiling and laughing as we fondly discussed that wonderful day.

My mother and I awoke the next morning and boarded the carriage to take us back to Bravil. I didn't want to go back to that shithole of a city; I wanted to stay in Anvil forever. Ma did too, but she said a house there would be much too expensive and we simply weren't able to afford it. I silently admired the scenery as the carriage drove us back to Bravil; back to reality.

I wept as I sat in front of ma's grave; replaying my countless memories with her through my mind. I stared at her wedding ring which now adorned my finger, and my stomach churned when I came to the realization that my mother ended her life on the same day she married my father.

My father. The man who vowed to love her forever. The man who vowed to care for her in sickness or health, wealthy or poor. The man who swore to protect her and provide for her all his days. The man who turned out to be a raging, abusive coward who scarred his wife physically and emotionally in order to feed his sick addiction. The man who abandoned his family when they needed him, and who hurt his wife so deeply that it ended up driving her to suicide. I swore that day that if I ever found that monster, that I would make him pay for what he did. I hope he's dead. I hope he's rotting deep beneath the ground with maggots feasting on his worthless bones. But if he isn't, and I ever do come across him, I'll make him sorry he ever laid a hand on my mother. I will make him suffer, just as he did her.

Darkness swept the sky, and I felt that I did enough wallowing for yet another day. I left the graveyard and made my way back to Sengar's house. I felt bad for being so harsh with him earlier; he was only trying to help, and I appreciated that.

The Breton was sitting in a chair, reading one of his many books when I got back. I sat down in the sofa across from him, and he put his book down as I got settled.

"How you feeling my boy?" he asked softly.

"Awful, still. Like my whole life is falling apart before my eyes," I responded.

"I know Sargoth, I know. When someone you love dies, it feels like you die as well. It's like everything around you simply stops, and any happiness you ever had is replaced by pain and grief. They become all you can think about, and everything you see reminds you of them, which only pains you further," the old man said with a sigh.

"You've felt this before?" I asked.

"I have. That woman in the painting upstairs in my library," Sengar began to explain, "She was my wife."

My eyes lit up in curiosity. I always was wondering who that was in the painting.

"I didn't know you were ever married, Sengar. You've never mentioned a wife the entire time I've known you," I said.

"I've never spoken of her to anyone, my boy, for it still grieves me to do so. Considering what you've been through however, I think you've earned the right to know," Sengar said with a deep breath.

I leaned forward and gave him my full attention.

"Her name was Natalia. She was an Imperial girl. I had first met her during my first year at the Arcane University when I was merely an apprentice at the Mages Guild. I was just twenty-one, and she nineteen. I was absolutely smitten with her the second I first laid my eyes on her," Sengar said with a slight chuckle "Her hair was black as a raven, and it flowed down her beautiful, curvaceous figure. She had the cutest laugh, and she was the kindest soul you'd ever meet. She would never hesitate to help a complete stranger she had just met. She loved life, and she loved the world," Sengar paused for a moment to clear his throat.

"My teacher introduced us during one of his lectures. I'm certain he noticed me staring at her the entire time instead of listening to him, and he paired us together for a research project he assigned all his students. We became fast friends, she and I, and we sorta had a friendly rivalry established between us. We would show off new spells we had learned to one another, and we would see who could cast the most powerful spells. We always tried to outdo each other, we did, and I think she was slightly jealous of my being a Breton, as magic came more naturally to me. But we always remained close, and we never left each other's side," Sengar took a sip of his tea.

"Quite soon she and I became inseparable. We went on every expedition together, we shared absolutely everything we learned with each other, and we were even teaching each other spells. She focused on Restoration magic; she had always to be a healer, she wanted to help the sick and the wounded. As we spent more and more time together, our feelings for each other grew, and our friendship eventually became love. We would sneak away every night and make love until the sun rose the next morning," Sengar said with a smile.

"We both knew we were born to be together, and eventually I asked her to be my wife. We still studied together over the years, with both of us becoming master wizards and two of the most esteemed students at the university. It was then that the Arch-Mage passed away from natural causes, and I was asked to take his place," the Breton said.

"Was Natalia the reason you turned it down?" I asked.

"That she was, my boy. We had talked for a while about leaving the Arcane University. We wanted to pursue our own studies and experience the outside world. I had no interest in leading the Guild; my wife was all I needed, and we left soon after. Our time with the Mages Guild taught us a great many things about magic, but I've always believed that experience is the best teacher, and Natalia and I wanted to embrace the world for ourselves. There was a whole world of knowledge out there just waiting for us, and we wanted every bit of it," the old man said, still smiling.

I smiled for the first time since ma passed, but I braced myself for the tragic turn I knew this story was going to take.

"What happened to Natalia?"

"We ended up settling down a few years into our marriage. We bought a house in Cheydinhal, and she became a healer at the chapel. We would still go out and explore the land, always increasing our knowledge, but not as often as we used to," Sengar's voice trailed off, and the smile disappeared from his face.

"Natalia and I went out, on our forty-fifth anniversary. We were peacefully strolling through the forest, recalling treasured memories and just basking in each other's company. We sat atop a large hillside; staring into the stars that glowed in the night sky. We held each other, and we both felt as young and carefree as we did when we first met. After a moment, I heard rustling among the trees, and almost out of nowhere, a group of about three or four men appeared and attacked us," Sengar paused briefly before continuing.

"At first I thought they were just common bandits, but it wasn't until I got a closer look at them that I saw their blood red eyes and their fangs, and I realized they were worse than bandits. They were vampires."

"And the vampires killed Natalia?" I asked.

"If only she could've been so lucky. We managed to kill them all, and we were mostly unscathed. Natalia received a slight cut from one of their daggers, but we thought nothing of it. We went home and just tried to put the attack behind us," Sengar's voice began to falter, and I could tell he was struggling to continue the story.

"The next morning, Natalia woke up sick as a dog; her skin was pale as the snow, she developed an extremely high fever, she had almost no energy at all, and she couldn't eat anything without throwing it back up. Strangest of all, however, was her sudden hatred of sunlight. Natalia always loved the outdoors her whole life; she would often spend hours lying and bathing in the sun as its warm rays caressed her. But now, she couldn't stand the sun for longer than a few seconds. She would shield her eyes with her hand, and she would experience pain whenever going outside; like her skin was actually burning. I thought it was just a really bad illness she had gotten, and that she would just sleep it off in a few days. By Talos, I was a fool. How did I not see it sooner?" A tear formed in Sengar's eye and he brushed it off. I did not like where this was going.

"Three days passed after the attack, and I woke up alone in our bed. I went out to our living room where Natalia was standing with her back to me. I slowly approached her and turned her around, and my heart stopped at what I saw. Her face looked like she had aged a hundred years; her eyes were a crimson red and razor sharp fangs protruded from her mouth. The vampires who attacked us had infected her; she was one of them. My Natalia, my poor, sweet Natalia, was a vampire."

My heart sank in my chest; this was all so much to take in. I couldn't even imagine Sengar's pain.

"I looked at her in disbelief for what seemed like an eternity; both of us crying. But I realized that while she may have been a vampire, while she may have no longer been human or mortal, she was still my Natalia; she was still my wife, and I loved her all the same," Sengar paused again as he was holding back his tears.

"I searched desperately for a cure. I read tomes, I asked every wizard I could find, I used every combination of alchemical ingredients I could muster to try and discover a cure for my beloved wife. My efforts were fruitless, and Natalia's condition worsened by the day. As you know, vampires must feed on blood in order to stay healthy, which Natalia absolutely refused to do. She couldn't even think of drinking the blood of another living being. I offered to let her feed off me, and she wouldn't even do that. As the days passed, her vampirism consumed her more and more; slowly draining away her strength and her sanity. She became more feral every day, until eventually she was no better than a vicious animal. My heart shattered as I realized that she was going to hurt, or even kill somebody. I couldn't let her live in that wretched condition, I knew there was only one thing I could do," Sengar could hold back the tears no longer.

"I took her to our basement where there was a single window, and I tied her up. She clawed and growled at me as she struggled against the ropes. After looking at my wife one last time and saying goodbye to her, I thrust open the window where a beam of sunlight shone through. Natalia screamed in agony as the sun charred her entire body, and within seconds, my wife was nothing but ash and dust," Sengar finished his story, and pure dread was growing inside me.

"I'm so sorry Sengar. You must've loved her so much. To have to put down your own wife, after having been with her for forty-five years…I don't think I could do it," was all I managed to say.

"That painting is the only thing I have left of my dear Natalia. Looking into it is peaceful, and torturous at the same time. Death is never an easy thing to deal with, and we are never prepared for it when it decides to strike. But we learn to move on with our lives anyway; we learn to put our grief behind us. I continue to do so with Natalia, and you shall do so with your mother. Death is a part of life, Sargoth. I know Natalia is waiting for me in Aetherius, and I long for the day when we embrace once again and I can feel her lips against mine. And I also believe you will reunite with your mother once the Gods decide it is time for you to leave Nirn."

Sengar was the wisest man I knew; I never doubted a single word he ever said to me. But as I am now a vampire myself, I know that Natalia did not go to Aetherius when she died. She is in Coldharbour, the realm of Lord Molag Bal. He laid claim to her soul the second she became a vampire, and it does sadden me to think that when Sengar did pass, he would still be without his dear wife.

"Sengar…. I need to tell you something, about the day Ghorzag disappeared," I said; I finally needed to get this off my chest.

"How long has it been since he was kidnapped by those bandits? Three years? I had no love for that family, but it's a shame what happened," said Sengar quietly.

"Ghorzag wasn't kidnapped."

"What do you mean my boy?"

"He's dead. I killed him. Him getting kidnapped was just a story I fabricated at the last minute," I confessed.

Sengar sighed, and I was terrified at what he might do. Would he yell at me? Kick me out of his house? Report me to the guards?

"I'd be lying if I said he didn't get what he deserved. He was a horrid person, as was his family. I know everyone is better off without them," Sengar said to me, and I was relieved by his words. There was one last thing on my mind, and I decided now was as good a time as any to tell Sengar.

"Sengar…" I started.

"Yes, my boy?"

"I'm leaving Bravil."

Sengar was not expecting that, and I could see tears rolling down his face once again.

"Are you sure that's what you want Sargoth?" he asked.

"I am. There's nothing for me here. Everything reminds me of mother, and it simply brings me too much pain to remain here," I explained to the old man.

"I understand, my boy. If this is where your heart is leading you, then you must follow it. I'll miss you Sargoth. You were like a son to me. Whatever you decide to do, may the Gods go with you," Sengar said.

"Thank you, Sen. For everything."

Sengar gave me some weapons and supplies, as well as food to take with me.

"Where will you go my boy?" Sengar asked.

"I don't know. Just….away from here," was all I said.

"If you ever need anything, just stop by anytime and let me know. I'll be here."

Sengar and I hugged for a brief moment, and then I gathered everything I was taking with me and left his house and departed through the Bravil gates.

I never saw the old man again.

It was a cold and dreary night. Crickets were stirring in the distance, and the gloomy gaze of the moons reflected off the clear, calm river that surrounded the city. A chilling breeze brushed my face. I made my way to the stables and made off with a black horse, and I rode off into the night.

I was reminded of mother and her story of her journey from Morrowind to Cyrodiil as she carried me inside her. Similar to her, I had no idea where I was going or what I would do. I knew that I just wanted to get away from Bravil and leave behind everything that remained of my life there.

Sorrow filled my heart as I gazed at the shining stars above me. I worried about what would happen to me next; what road my life would lead me down. Was I making the right choice? Was there something greater in store for me? I pondered these questions as my horse trotted into the dark forest. A chapter of my life ended that night, and another was soon to begin. For better or worse, I was ready to embrace whatever fate had in store for me.