A QUIET SOUL

I cling to her even as the boat loses its path in the dark sea. Her hands stroke my hair as she lets me cry. She knows she won't have to leave anytime soon.

"Eve." She tries again.

Now I feel like I can talk. I look up at her. "I'm sorry." I whisper.

"No, there is nothing to be sorry for. It's not your fault this is what she did." Her eyes are compassionate but sharp. Assessing.

"I didn't know. She was…resurrected. She's now in another person's body. She's not with me."

"We know. We know that was her goal all along now." She says softly.

The silence is deafening. So many questions going unanswered. The only one that comes to mind is the one I speak. "Why?"

Nocturnal sighs. "It is a long story. What we found is this: the Old Soul held on for so long because of what she is. What she is keeps her tied to her deceased mortal body for eons. Bride of Sithis. He needs her aid."

"How could she hold on?" I stare out at the sea now. The clouds hold some comfort in their colors and shapes. Grays. Gray is neutral, not too loud, not too sad.

She laughs, a little hysterically. Like she's been around Sheogorath a little too long. "She is the Dragonborn." Those words are put casually.

I look up incredulously to her beautiful face. "What?"

Nocturnal smiles tightly, "Think about it, what soul can hold on for so long and bear so much? No mortal form with a soul can and most immortals would have a hard time. But the soul of a dragon can hold on. No, she wasn't a dragon. But she has the soul of one meaning that she can absorb dragon souls to use for power. I know the Dragonborn is a legend to the Nords."

That is a grave understatement. Wait until all the Talos worshipers and good, honest, people in Skyrim find out their savior is the darkest evil to the walk Nirn. This isn't good. Nocturnal sees my fading expression. "Unfortunately, it is worse. We know what she is up to now."

"Besides being resurrected?" I nearly moan. Could it get worse than this?

"Well, it is not confirmed, more so speculation. I was wondering why one such as her would travel to Skyrim and put all that effort into using you. Now that she has autonomy in her new form she can do as she wishes. At first, I expected she wanted Skyrim for her own. There is a civil war plaguing the land here, all she would have to do is intervene and call herself High Queen of Skyrim. That would make the death of Lord Harkon make more sense. Disposing of a competitor."

Right. I thought that too. "But," She continues, "It was too simple. If you live so long like that, Eve, you get over things like wanting eternal domination over people and places. Or at least most people get over it." She grumbles. "No, I think this is far worse than that."

The roaring waves are the only sound, "What else?" I have to ask because I can tell she is too scared to speak it.

"She wants to cut off the Daedric Princes from Mundus. Banish us."

I freeze, thinking of the Night Mother retrieving my ring. I wondered why she wanted it since it kept them from me…but now, she has a method.

"What benefit is that?"

"If Daedric Princes aren't in Mundus to bring on revelry, soul trades, and dark feats then there is no incentive for mortals to turn to divine worship. Without one balancing the other, souls become lost. Without a deity to worship, they are vulnerable. You remember she is the Bride of Sithis and will help him when she can. Now, without people turning to divine or daedric worship they can be sent to the Void after death."

My hands curl into her velvety cloak. The Void. I've been there twice, and it was worse than anything in Oblivion. Feeling nothing, seeing nothing, sensing nothing for so long while retaining consciousness, that would send anyone to madness. "Isn't the Void in Oblivion?"

"Somewhat. Oblivion is thought to be an extension of the Void. The Void is the birthplace of all, but in my opinion, it is not a place meant for the intelligent. The Daedra still need followers in our realms."

I just clutch her dress tighter. Nocturnal senses my dismay and begins to stroke my hair again. The waves are getting greater, but shallower, signaling land is near. "This is only speculation. Not fact. There is still time. And so, all of us, all seventeen Daedric Princes swear fealty to you, Eve. We will help where we can, to bring her down."

"Is it possible?"

"Yes, Molag Bal believes so."

"The Soul Cairn?" I look to her in disbelief.

"Possibly, we haven't gotten that far yet, but there is time, Eve. A distraction is near." Her ravens fly behind the boat, their forms a dark blot against the sky. "Dragons have returned to Skyrim. Alduin, a great dragon, has returned and is seeking to destroy the world."

Like that sounded any better. "How is this good?"

She grins, it's hollow on the edges, like a charade. But it's something. "It gives her something to fight. We want her to win against Alduin but during that time we need to be ready to end her."

Hopefulness, that is what is in her voice. I nod, my only sign that I heard her and will help them. If I can stop the evil I felt in that room from invading Skyrim and the souls here, then so be it. The answer is satisfactory, because the next thing I feel is the cold wood of the bench against my cheek.

Cicero's Journal Entry

30th of Rain's Hand, 4E 202

Right away, Mother left us. She said there are many things to be done. So many plans to take on. Cicero is tasked with Babette to watch the perimeter of the Brotherhood Castle this early morning. To make sure no Dawnguard are trying to take it. Nazir is looking for initiates…Cicero is happy about that. He is not good with new people.

The funniest thing about the new job? Listener is rowing away in a boat like the coward she is! Cicero can see it from here, she's just curled up on the little dingy, trying to get her bearings. It is so tempting to go fish her out. If she had a stronger mind, it would match her power, and she would be oh so useful.

But Mother said to let her be. Let her wander and "find herself" so to speak. We will see her again soon.