The next morning, Ivan woke to Filnjar's rough hands shaking his shoulders.
"Ivan, wake up!" he whispered hoarsely. "I promised Erandur I'd let you rest, but I can't bear to see two friends part ways without so much as a farewell!"
"Part ways?!" Ivan echoed as he shot up out of bed. He left the blacksmith's house swiftly.
"You're leaving?" Ivan asked, not bothering to mask his disappointment. Erandur nodded as he packed his bag with a few supplies.
"I told you, Ivan." he answered. "I was just passing through Shor's Stone on my way to Riften. I'm on a pilgrimage to visit the temple of Mara."
"Will I ever see you again, Erandur?"
"I'm sure of it, Ivan." Erandur said with a smile. "You still owe me, remember?"
"Safe travels, Priest of Mara." Filnjar bid the Dark Elf farewell. "We will never forget what you've done for us. You're always welcome in Shor's Stone." Erandur nodded with a smile. He waved as he shouldered his pack and started down the Southern path. Ivan watched him go with some sadness. Even though their first encounter was rough, Ivan had come to consider Erandur one of his closest friends, and friends did not come easily to the Dragonborn.
"I'll miss him." Ivan said quietly to Sylgja, who was standing beside him with a pickaxe over one shoulder.
"We all will." she responded. "But I have a feeling we'll see him again soon. Come on, Ivan. Grab a pickaxe, and let's get to work."
Ivan had to admit that he felt like a fool with a pickaxe in his hands. Redbelly Mine was known for its ebony, but Ivan couldn't tell the difference between ebony and dirt. He stood uselessly a few feet away from Sylgja, who was expertly swinging her pickaxe at a rock. She noticed him and smiled.
"Care to join us, Ivan?" she asked.
"I've gotta admit, I have no idea what I'm doing." he answered, shrugging his shoulders. Sylgja only laughed, then turned back to her rock.
"I suppose mining isn't for everyone." she allowed. Ivan continued to watch her as she lifted her pickaxe and brought it down hard on the rock. For her petite frame, it would seem like she was not capable of the strength she was exhibiting. Ivan was impressed.
"What made you become a miner, Sylgja?" he asked suddenly. Sylgja paused, before continuing to mine.
"My father, I guess." she finally answered. "He always wanted a son to hand down his knowledge of mining to, but he got me instead. For the longest time, he was very distant. So, I took up mining, hoping to impress him. I got real good at it, too. When my father found out, at first he was very upset. I couldn't understand why. It wasn't until later that I realized it was because he loved me and didn't want his little girl to get hurt. Well, this little girl was tough, and it didn't take him long after that to realize it. He taught me everything I know."
"Did you ever want to be something other than a miner?"
"Not really. Growing up in Darkwater Crossing, where most everyone are miners, it gets kinda instilled in you, ya know?" Then she paused. "Why do you ask?" Ivan's gaze fell to the floor.
"Oh, I guess… I guess I've always wanted to be anything other than what I am." Ivan said glumly. A silence passed between them. Ivan looked up to see Sylgja pick up a rock. She brought it over and placed it in Ivan's hands.
"You know, you're a lot like this rock." she said. Ivan blinked in confusion.
"Um, thank you?"
"Hear me out. On the outside, you're humble, unassuming, but on the inside…" Sylgja took the rock from him, hit it against the cave wall, causing it to crack. Then she handed it back to Ivan. He slowly opened the rock, finding the inside covered with gleaming crystals. His eyes grew wide in amazement.
"You're incredible." Sylgja finished. Ivan looked at Sylgja, speechless. What could he say to her to express what he felt? There were no words. Instead, he slowly leaned forward and kissed her lips. Then he pulled away quickly.
"F-Filnjar might need my help at the smithy." he uttered as he turned stiffly and left the mine, still holding the rock in his hands. Sylgja felt her face grow hot. She grinned. Suddenly, she heard a chuckle nearby. She turned and saw Grogmar smiling at her.
"Don't worry, I won't tell a soul."
"Have you ever worked with ebony before, Ivan?" Filnjar asked as Ivan watched him shape the black metal. Ivan shook his head.
"I've heard it's even stronger than the metal of the Dwemer." he responded. Filnjar handed him a hammer.
"Let me teach you the trick to smithing ebony. I think you could use it to make yourself a pretty powerful bow."
Ivan spent the rest of that day smithing with Filnjar. He looked up as the sun was going down to see Sylgja sitting on her front porch, writing on a small stack of papers. What could she be writing about? Her face would change expressions slightly as she wrote. Sometimes she would smile, other times she looked serious.
"She frequently writes letters to her parents in Darkwater Crossing." Filnjar suddenly said. Ivan tore his gaze away from her to look at Filnjar.
"What? Oh, of course. I see." Ivan uttered. He returned to his smithing, but stopped short when he heard a voice.
"Dragonborn? Does anyone know where the Dragonborn is?"
Instinctively, Ivan ducked. He lowered his head and ears and peered over the forge to look for who was searching for him. He may have turned his life around, but the atrocities he committed while working for the Daedric Lords could still catch up with him. Filnjar chuckled.
"It's alright, Ivan. It's just Vilner, the courier." he assured him. Ivan was still wary, but stood up nonetheless. He still gripped his hammer in his hand, just in case. He slowly raised his hand.
"I am Dragonborn Ivan Daynes." he said resolutely. Come what may, Ivan needed to face it without deception, as he had grown so used to as an agent of Sithis. The courier smiled and handed him a letter.
"Jarl Siddgeir of Falkreath Hold wishes to hold audience with the Dragonborn. Here is a handwritten invitation. Lucky you!" the courier said animatedly. Ivan took the invitation and looked it over. It also briefly described a plot of land on which he was invited to build an estate.
"The Jarl wishes to add to the protection of Falkreath by inviting the Dragonborn to live close by, in case of emergencies." Vilner explained.
Ah, so the Jarl only saw Ivan for the power he held. That made sense. Ivan grimaced inwardly.
"I'll have to think about it." he said flatly. "How did you know I was here?" The courier grinned.
"Word is that the Dragonborn slew a mighty spider beast and saved Shor's Stone! Word travels almost as quickly as I do, Sir." he said proudly. Then he turned to Sylgja with a smile. "Hey there, pretty lady! Are you writing more letters to your parents?" Sylgja sighed and continued writing.
"I've already told you, Vilner. I take my letters to them myself. Otherwise I'd never get to see them in person!" she said with a slightly annoyed tone. Vilner stepped closer to her.
"Come now, Milady." He said calmly. "You wouldn't rob a courier of his work, would you? Let me do you this service. I'd even do it for free, but just for you."
"I think she already gave you an answer." came Ivan's voice from behind him. Vilner spun around to see Ivan standing directly behind him, toting his blacksmith hammer over one shoulder. Vilner straightened and bowed quickly before hurriedly continuing his route without another word. Sylgja just snorted in amusement.
"You probably just saved his life, Ivan." she said as she continued to write. "Any closer and I would've put my pickaxe through his chest."
"Does he always bother you like that?" Ivan asked, lowering his hammer. Sylgja only shrugged with a smile. As Ivan returned to his smithing work, he made a mental note to keep an eye on the road through town for any more couriers and the like.
And watch the roads is exactly what Ivan did. He spent more time at the forge since he felt useless in the mine. He realized that although the town was small, its mine was rich with ebony. And the guards that strolled through town on occasion were nowhere to be seen when the spiders ran amok. Bandits could easily walk into town and take advantage of Shor's Stone's wealth. Although almost every resident of the mining town was armed with a pickaxe, and could probably hold their own, there was someone here that Ivan wanted to protect. With a perfect view of the road leading into town, Ivan worked the forge with Filnjar, keeping a watchful eye for potential dangers... and couriers.
During the night, Ivan would sit on the porch in front of Filnjar's house and keep watch. He had been trained to function on very little sleep during his time at the Brotherhood. As he sat in the darkness, with only the two moons as a dim light, he adjusted the tightness of the bowstring on his newly-smithed ebony bow. His mind wandered back to earlier that day when Filnjar and he were talking.
"Ebony has been proven time and time again to be the hardest of metals in Skyrim." Filnjar said with some pride. "That makes it very hard to work with. You can always tell the skill of a blacksmith by the quality of the ebony he forges." Ivan inspected Filnjar's latest work with wonder.
"The details on this chest plating are so intricate!" he marveled. "You carved the symbol of The Rift in such detail!"
"I've done it so often, it's of second nature to me. Here, let me show you how to carve designs onto finished works. It takes great skill, however. You don't want to weaken the armor with too much design work, or too deep of carving."
Filnjar took a finished ebony bracer and held it over the forge with a set of tongs. Ivan watched the black metal slowly begin to turn red. Then Filnjar fastened the bracer to the worktable with a vice, and took a metal spike and a mallet. He nimbly began pounding a curved design onto the side of the bracer.
"There's a legend that in times of old, great warriors wore the bones of dragons as armor." Filnjar said as he worked. Ivan turned his head to look at him.
"Dragon bones? Are those stronger than metal?" he asked. Filnjar shrugged.
"Perhaps one day I can find out for myself."
Ivan's attention snapped back to the present when he saw something move beneath the shadow of a tree. He sat up straight, but hesitated. He didn't want to cause a ruckus in the night if it were only a stay dog.
Suddenly, he saw it again, and he sharpened his gaze. Whatever it was, it was much larger than a dog. Ivan launched himself at the figure, readying a handful of claws, rather than drawing an arrow. But before he struck with his raised hand, his heart dropped to his stomach when he saw who he had tackled.
"Uncle Veezara!" Ivan practically shouted. He could recognize that Argonian face anywhere.
"Nephew?" Veezara responded, just as loudly. "By Sithis, you're alive!"
"You survived the attack on the sanctuary!" Ivan exclaimed, helping his uncle to his feet. "I was so worried you'd died in the fire with the others!" Veezara hugged his nephew tightly.
"I was out on a contract." the Argonian explained. "When I returned to the sanctuary, I found it in ruins. I thought you had met that same fate!"
"Uncle, I survived!" Ivan said with a laugh, overjoyed that his last blood relative was still alive. "Nazir and Babette did, too! They live in the Dawnstar Sanctuary, to the Northwest!"
"I'm relieved to hear the Brotherhood still exists." Veezara sighed gratefully. "I joined the Thieves Guild when I realized I had nowhere else to go. But Nephew, why are you not in Dawnstar with the others?" Ivan smiled.
"The Night Mother banished me after the Falkreath Sanctuary was destroyed." Ivan explained. "Since then, I gathered the rest of the Daedric Artifacts and was released from Sithis' power. Now I live here, as an apprentice to a blacksmith." Veezara gazed at Ivan's eyes.
"Ah, I see. Your eyes... just like dear Salia's." He grinned. "But I must say, I'm surprised you live here. With all the excitement you've seen, you chose the most boring town in all of Skyrim to live!" He said this with a chuckle. Ivan shrugged.
"That's exactly why I chose to live here." he responded. "That, and..." Ivan trailed off, thinking of Sylgja. He was surprised to realize that she was a large portion of why he chose to stay here, rather than take the Artifacts and move on. Veezara put on an interested look.
"Don't tell me." he smirked. "The redness on your face says it all! It's a lovely young woman that keeps you here!"
The redness on Ivan's face deepened, but he couldn't argue with his uncle. He was right. Suddenly, a thought entered his mind.
"You said you joined the Thieves Guild." Ivan realized. "Are you here in Shor's Stone for a contract?"
"Of course you'd change the subject." Veezara muttered. "And no, I'm just passing through."
Ivan couldn't mask his disappointment. He knew what it meant to belong to a faction, but it just didn't seem fair that he would have to say goodbye to his uncle again so soon. Veezara placed a hand on his nephew's shoulder.
"Don't look so glum, Ivan! Shor's Stone isn't far from Riften. I can come visit now and again." he said. This made Ivan feel a little better.
"Can you at least stay until tomorrow night?" he asked. "It will be dawn soon, and your... line of work is best taken care of under cover of night."
"I suppose..." Veezara allowed. "This way, you can introduce me to your lady friend!"
"Don't call her my lady friend, Uncle!" Ivan blushed again, causing Veezara to laugh.
"What? It's my job as your uncle to embarrass you!" he replied with a grin.