When Skathi returned to mortal realm, she appeared on High Hrothgar to an audience of dragons. Fortunately, the chief amongst them was Paarthurnax. He gathered them so that he would become ruler of all dragons with Alduin's lordship ended. He would come to rule over his kind far from the affairs of mortals. No one ever knew where, but that was perhaps for the best.

The Greybeards recognized Skathi Wolf-Runner's accomplishments and sent her on her way, a champion of Skyrim, such as that meant. This time gave them much opportunity to find new initiates and disciples for the Way of the Voice. They wouldn't run off to war like Ulfric did, but they would go to war by the calling from the gods for war.

The Blades were still alive. They acknowledged Skathi's accomplishment but lacked the heart to let her back into the fold. Delphine and Esbern wouldn't fight alongside her, but no one fought alongside them either. Their order would die out with them for lack of interest. A sad end for a respectable order such as them, but it was the truth of the matter.

Skyrim entered a period of cold war. General Tullius never left Solitude and Ulfric Stormcloak never opened to Imperial rule. The borders were inconvenient, which would lead to the training of Stormcloak warriors and reinforcements for Legionnaires. It would come to a head one day. One day.

Rena Donton would be assigned to the first garrison of Riften to establish the peace.

Jeanne would become an adventurer, traveling Skyrim for treasures.

Ravani would do what she wished, no matter what, but wouldn't return to Windhelm if Ulfric was alive.

Eoni would prove herself a legend of the Stormcloaks.

Vorsaz's body was discovered in caves it fell, half eaten by the skeevers. Later investigation would reveal her a repeat cannibal.

Ansgar would be assigned to Riften as well, Mariqa following close behind for some unknown reason.

Skathi wouldn't return to the wilds and would travel as an adventurer for many miles.

And yet, the story isn't over.

Not yet.

She shouldn't be alive. She was supposed to die in that damn city in that damn place of the Dwarves. Perhaps she would remember something after this.

Saadia was a waitress at the Bannered Mare. She didn't say much, typically a slow girl to take your orders, but never got them wrong. The fact she had a bounty on her head was surprising. In her own words, she spoke out against the Aldmeri Dominion years ago and was forced from Hammerfell because of it, but someone kept wanting to take her life.

Her assassins, the Alik'r warriors, claimed she was not an enemy of the Thalmor. Their leader, Kematu, claimed she sold a city out to the Thalmor many years ago and someone sent them to enact justice. Not to kill her but bring her to Hammerfell to face the court. She mostly likely be dead at the end of this no matter what the Alik'r said.

Saadia found her an ally, however. Someone to get her out of Whiterun if all went wrong. And it did, for Saadia herself was being sold out. Out in the stables, she looked nervously around through the cover of night. She bolted to mount her horse, one her ally secured. When she touched the horse's saddle, she fell over, limp as a corpse. This was her ally's betrayal.

Out from the shadows came Kematu and his men. They wore baggy, thin clothing that left little to protect from the elements. They wore wraps around their heads that frame their faces as a tagelmust, except for Kematu, who wore his hair in dreadlocks on the top of his head. He probably did this to be distinguishable to others, mostly outsiders.

"We meet at last, my dear lady," Kematu smirked.

"What is this?" Saadia got out through her paralysis, "What have you done?"

The Redguard leader hovered over the woman with pride. "Oh, come now," he grinned, "You didn't really expect to manipulate people forever, did you? Your luck had to run out sometime."

Something was wrong. The ally knew that. There was something that couldn't be narrowed down that pointed to the true story of what happened. Saadia said she was targeted for her belief, but they were the common sentiment of Hammerfell. Kematu said she sold out a city to Thalmor, but they never needed traitors to open gates.

If the Thalmor wanted her dead, why didn't the Thalmor, of significantly more influence and power in Skyrim than the Redguard of Hammerfell, do it? If Saadia really did betray the city to the Thalmor, why wasn't she living in Dominion sanctuary? While noble scum who wanted to prove their worth to those who put pressure on them existed, it didn't make enough sense for either story to be true.

Kematu turned to the betrayer. "Now, we'll take our friend here back to Hammerfell," he announced with pride, "where she will pay the price for her treason."

"She won't be harmed?"

"Not on the way back," he explained, "Once she gets there, it's not up to me to decide what's done with her. And as for you, I owe you a portion of the reward, don't I? Well, here you go."

The leader gave her a sack of clinking metal. "Spend it wisely, and if I may," he remarked, "Don't allow yourself to be fooled by a pretty face. You're better than that."

And something clicked. Saadia couldn't betray the city. Kematu couldn't be looking for a traitor. It took this long to understand that they lied, using the Thalmor as a sad story to tug at the heart strings. Whatever reason they had to search for her, whatever reason she was running from them, they didn't deserve to live.

And so, she who shouldn't be alive drew her blade. "I only live to kill the allies of the Thalmor," Mikaela proclaimed, "But none of you are. And yet, you all deserve to die!"

Kematu tried to draw his own sword, but he was too close to get it out in time. He was stabbed straight in his unarmored chest and fell, dead. His fellows looked at his corpse and looked at his killer. They charged Mikaela, perhaps seeking vengeance for their fallen comrade. Saadia lied that the Alik'r warriors would disperse after Kematu's death, but that obviously wasn't the first time.

Mikaela raised her blade to meet the curved swords the guards were so obsessed with. They were skilled warriors, clearly, fast and strong sword arms. However, Mikaela wasn't a warrior. A warrior has honor, maintains their weapons and has a romance a bard would enjoy. She killed people and didn't care how close they got to killing her.

A two-handed scimitar smashed into her shoulder. It would've hurt if she cared. Mikaela's sword met his chin and went straight to his brain. Another tried catch her in the ribs, but she was too fast, and the scimitar in her shoulder fell out and bloodily bounced on top of him. She finished him off and went on from there.

Soon enough, Mikaela's body was bloody and beaten. Her wounds were severe, probably life threatening to any mortal form. But the Alik'r warriors were worse. Dead typically is.

"Thank the Divines you changed your mind!" Saadia piped up, barely able to move her head.

Mikaela turned to her. "Tell me the truth," she growled.

The woman was shocked. "I have told you the truth!" she lied, "I don't know why- "

Mikaela hunched over her with her dagger drawn. "I should've expected you to still be lying," she sighed.

The dagger met her throat. Bloodily, jamming down like only a dagger can be used. Saadia tried to scream as the life left her, but that was impossible. Mikaela left the fresh bodies and wandered away into the night.

The one thing that lingered over Saadia's lie was her age. She was far from old enough to be there when Taneth fell. Mikaela was, but she still wouldn't have that power. She was a child in Hammerfell when the Thalmor came. She saw it all, going from city to city to find a safe place to live. Gilded warriors with the ruthlessness of creatures from beyond the breath of her life. They deserved to die.

All the Thalmor deserved to die in Mikaela's eyes. They were bastards, but all who chose to placate them earned her scorn as well. She joined the Stormcloaks to fight them all and the puppet of an empire that was in their way. She would take every opportunity to kill the Thalmor and their allies.

Such was her fate, wasn't it?