Chapter Sixty-Five:

Prophecy Fulfilled

So it's fair to say I was only dead for a few minutes. After that, my breathing began again, albeit laboured and hard to maintain. I'm not one to bore people with details, but I knew I was safe, I was warm, and I had an intense weight lifted from my shoulders. Alduin was dead. That meant I could stop being Dragonborn and start creating a new life in Skyrim—one only I had control over. Of course, there was still that hairy problem that needed addressing... But it could wait.

Over time, in my drifting state of in and out of consciousness, breathing became easier. It felt like less of a chore to keep going, but my exhaustion was overwhelming still. I was content to sleep for a while longer, not only for the rest, but... well...

In my dreams I was seated across from my parents. We talked, since we didn't get the chance in Sovngarde. This was a precious chance and I wasn't about to waste it, so I asked as many questions as I could, each met with an answer from either Kodlak or Elana. Sometimes we'd have to stop our conversation just to reign ourselves in and keep from falling too far into despair, focused on the time we never had. Other times, words and laughter came so naturally that it felt as though we'd known each other for decades. We reminisced, and I got to ask about their lives, but they were also curious of mine and I answered, though some aspects I would have liked to keep hidden.

Kodlak hadn't told Elana that I was like him, and when I had to tell her, she sighed heavily and tried to make light of it, but I could see their worry. If I died (permanently), chances were I'd meet the Huntsman of Princes in his realm, and be trapped like the rest. I didn't want that. I actually didn't know what I wanted to happen if I died, but I knew I didn't want to spend the rest of eternity as some sort of hunting mutt. If possible I just wanted to recline and read all the books in the Nirn at my own leisure. Clearly those two possibilities conflicted with each other.

It felt like the dreams were ending too soon. They couldn't come to visit me anymore, so we spent our last hours together exchanging farewells that could have been offered a hundred-thousand times in the past, had we known each other when I'd been born.

Some kind of gods must have decided to give me a reward for getting thrown around by Dragons, and I was grateful for it. I got to know my mother and father, like I'd dreamed as a child and like I'd scorned as a teenager. I felt old and, admittedly, at peace just knowing that I hadn't been abandoned at the side of some road like a soiled rag—that I had more than just friends and comrades at my side. Even if I was to never see my parents again, at least I could say I knew them.

They faded afterward, back to their respective afterlives while I found my solace by resting and recovering from the beating I'd taken from Alduin and his Dragons. I didn't even know how much time had passed; the minutes and hours had clumped together in a series of chaos that was impossible to interpret, so I was left half-conscious and not knowing whether it was 201 or 223. Well, unless I was as great as the Hero of Kvatch and started a new era all by myself...

Somehow I seriously doubted it.

While I was busy trying to entertain my surprisingly blank mind, I realized that my right arm, which had been broken, was now just a little sore instead of burning with never-ending pain. My chest, too, felt a considerably better than before. So I tried to focus my energies on waking up and trying to figure out if I could grab something to eat or go to the bathroom.

It took a while, but I managed to wake up. I immediately recognized the grey stones above me, since I'd woken up to them before: I was at High Hrothgar. That confused me, because Skuldafn was nowhere near the monastery. There were settlements closer to the portal to Sovngarde, so if anybody tried to get me out of there it would only make sense for them to take me there.

So how did I get to the Greybeards?

I gritted my teeth and tried to sit up, but found that my entire torso was still terribly sore. Still, I forced myself into a sitting position. It was more comfortable than the stone slab I'd been lying on, at least. No offence to the Greybeards, but I really didn't want to be like the Blade with a stick up her hindquarters.

I took my time when my head began spinning a bit. I had to breathe slowly, as uncomfortable as it was, and keep a cool head. There was water in a glass beside the bed, and I gratefully took a sip. I was quiet, hoping I wouldn't disturb anyone while I mulled over Elana and Kodlak, and wondered if talking with them had only been a dream. I hoped not. Not only would I have made everything up in my own head, but I'd also have gotten hit too hard by a Dragon and it might be permanent damage for the future. As if I wasn't crazy enough.

Eventually, as I finished the glass of water, I heard soft steps against the stone floor. I looked to the entrance of the room, and was a bit surprised to see Eduard watching me from the doorway. Not in a creepy way, mind. He just didn't enter.

Eduard folded his arms behind his back as his mask tilted upwards slightly. "You've been asleep for a few weeks," he told me with a brusque tone. "Did you... sleep well?"

I nodded slowly and rubbed my eyes. "Y-Yeah... I feel... better."

He nodded curtly and seemed to hesitate at the doorway. One of my eyebrows quirked up, and I glanced at the near-empty water in my hand.

"Uh... Did you want to... have a drink?"

Eduard glanced at the water, seemed to linger on the question, then slowly approached the stone bed and sat in a wooden chair that had been at the bedside before I'd awakened. He reached for the jug, poured some into my cup, and then poured into his own that he retrieved from a shelf nearby.

While I took a sip, Eduard stared at the cup. "... We haven't heard much of what happened. What little the Greybeards know they refuse to share until you've recovered..."

"Why?"

Eduard seemed to half-shrug, then catch himself in the act, straighten out, and clear his throat. "I'm unsure. They are possibly merely worried for the Dovahkiin, as your friends are." He twisted the cup in his gloved fingers. "I already know Alduin is dead though. His presence has faded, and you're also alive."

I chuckled softly. "Really? Because I still feel quite a bit like death."

"You look it." I smirked at the remark, even though I was unsure if it was meant as a jest or a jab. "A few of your companions have gone for supplies for the Greybeards. All that is left is the lizard and the Harbinger."

"And yourself."

"Indeed." Eduard reached up to his mask and pulled it upward, just enough so I could see the lower-half of his face. His lips were a balance between thin and full, and his jaw was broad like a Nord's, but his chin was rounded rather than squared. He took a sip of his water and didn't move to replace the mask. It gave me a chance to also notice the slight fuzz on and around his jaw. He probably hadn't shaved yet that day.

Eduard seemed to watch me for a moment. "Your injuries were severe. I assume the fight was just as strenuous."

"Mhm." I took a larger gulp when I felt I had more energy. "Alduin called his Dragons. But my father found combatants to help me and the Tongues."

"The Tongues?" he inquired. I noticed how his mouth had set itself into a firm, unyielding line. It was easier to read him without his mask, especially his voice. "Was Hakon One-Eye there?"

"He was wounded during the first bout with Alduin and had to withdraw."

"He wasn't killed?"

I shook my head, then wondered what happened to a soul when it was killed in Sovngarde. While I was pondering that, Eduard's fingers white-knuckled his cup. I could see the outlines of his fingers from how tightly he was grasping it.

"Hakon was the Tongue that murdered my father."

I stared at Eduard. "He...?"

"My father learned that Dragon Priests were betraying Alduin and the Dragons, and when he was asked to do the same he retaliated. Hakon stabbed him in the back while his sister Gormlaith distracted him." Eduard frowned. "I had just returned from Solstheim on a mission for my father. His followers were murdered along with him, but they were bound and their throats slit."

I closed my eyes and hung my head. I didn't want to think of it, but it seemed like something Gormlaith would insist on doing...

"What were you on Solstheim for?" I asked, hoping to take him in another direction.

Eduard took a long drink of water, then slid his mask over the rest of his face, leaving his emotions unintelligible to me. "I had to put a threat down. Nothing more."

I wanted to ask him more, but then I heard the clanking sound of heavy armour down the corridor. Eduard took that as his queue to leave, and nodded curtly to me as he swept his violet robes out of the room. Neither Eduard nor Milos glanced at each other as they passed, but the moment I saw Milos I got the largest grin I could ever have on my face, and so did he.

Milos stopped in the doorway like Eduard had, crossed his arms and looked me up and down. "Huh," he remarked with a snide, lizard-like smirk. "And here I was enjoying the time without a smart-ass remark every seven seconds. It almost seemed peaceful at this monastery..."

"With a Companion, an assassin, a mage, a thief, a Dragon Priest and a loud-mouthed Argonian?" I snorted and shook my head. "Your definition of quiet is rather loose."

Milos situated himself in the seat Eduard had just vacated. "And here I thought you'd get some sort of humbling revelation..."

I smirked. "Well, don't get disappointed so quickly." I fiddled around with the simple blanket that was covering me. "There are some things I need to take care of first."

Milos grinned. "Like?" he prompted.

"We need to talk... about the lycanthropy."

Milos clicked his tongue, sighed, but relented. "All right," he agreed. "... You want to do this now?"

"Yeah."

"Okay..." He slapped his hands on his knees. "What is it?"

"Milos," I said, trying to make my voice as firm as possible, "you apologized back at the Frostfruit Inn, and I just wanted to say that I forgive you. I... I don't think I'd have been able to do anything without you. Your my brother and I love you like one, and while I know you're sorry... I need to know you'll be there. That you'll help when I... change."

Milos' eyes narrowed, and I thought for a minute that I'd overstepped my bounds, but then his scaly hand reached out and placed itself on my head. "Hm... That's odd..." Milos gently turned my head around. "Tell me first: what do you think of the whole thing?"

I was curious by Milos, but played along. "I don't care for the part where my body changes, but I don't remember anything after... yielding."

"So, it's not you who feels the whole flesh-craving bit?"

"No."

He grinned. "Then I suppose I could help, provided you stay you. Don't ever, ever turn into that thing without your body changing, got it?"

"Don't be a psychotic, flesh-craving killer? Sounds simple enough." I smirked, then leaned into the hug Milos offered. "Thank-you, Milos. You have no idea what this means."

"I think I do." I patted my head. "All right, so what next?"

I pulled away and bit my lip. "Well..." I shrugged. "I have to help Eduard get back to his time. And I have a trip to make to Falkreath."

"Falkreath?" Milos repeated. "What's there?"

Oops. Forgot to tell him... "... My grandparents."

I spent the next few days in the sickbed while I recovered from the battle. Thankfully, being a flesh-eating monster on certain nights had its benefits, so I was healed faster than I should have been. That, of course, made Eduard raise his invisible eyebrows, considering he was still in the dark about the whole thing, but I attributed it to my Dragon Blood and he seemed to accept it.

After a while, I was up and ready to complete whatever tasks needed to be done. We helped the Greybeards with menial tasks around the monastery, but only what they would allow us to, since their piety had them consume their day with chores as well as their studies into the Voice. Only a few days later and we were ready to leave.

At the base of the Throat of the World, before we crossed the bridge into Ivarstead, Cha'qim grinned her cat-like grin and faced us.

"Well," she said, "Cha'qim thanks the strange ones for the adventure, but she has things to steal now. She has hidden from Brynjolf for too long, she fears."

My eyes widened at the catkin. "Y-You're leaving?!"

Cha'qim shrugged, then quickly leapt over to hug me. I was still in such shock I couldn't hug back. He tail was flicking back and forth when she pulled away.

"Cha'qim will write. She promises."

"B-But—!"

"Ah, not to worry, Imperial! Cha'qim has eyes and ears everywhere! She will ensure the message finds you!"

After a few more hugs with some of our companions (like Hiemdall, Javin and Milos, since Eduard and Aldren weren't keen on the warm contact), she departed. I felt a heaviness in my heart once she disappeared down the road, but I was gladdened that it wouldn't be the last time I'd see her.

Further, when we made camp near to Falkreath, Eduard took first watch. We fell asleep, but when I woke up for my turn, I noticed we were missing another body: Aldren. He'd left without a word and without a trace, like a ghost among shadows—appropriate for the Listener of the Dark Brotherhood.

We packed and continued to Pinewatch. When we passed through the city to gather supplies, I felt a hand on my shoulder. When I turned from the trader to Javin, he smiled from underneath his beard.

"I'm afraid I'm next," he admitted a bit sheepishly.

My shoulders sagged. "Now...?"

"Duty is unavoidable, I'm afraid. The College needs its Arch-Mage." He patted my head. "But you should come to the College when you require it. You'll be safe there."

Afterward, Javin left Hiemdall, Milos, Eduard and I in Falkreath. It became a bit harder, knowing that the people I'd travelled with for weeks were leaving one-by-one. I wondered if Hiemdall or Milos would be next...

Hiemdall slipped his hand into mine and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "It'll be fine," he told me softly.

Eduard scorned the gesture. "You should remove yourself, bron. Nord. Taking advantage of her is no way to move forward."

His face reddening, Hiemdall retorted, "Yeah, you'd know a lot about taking advantage of people, wouldn't you?"

"And what's that supposed to mean—?!"

"Guys!" I interjected, throwing my hands in the air (and removing myself from Hiemdall). "Please! Just get along for five minutes!"

Both men were quick to be silent, although they made a point not to look at each other. With a sigh of relief from the silence, I led the trudge to Pinewatch and readied myself to face what I'd have to tell the two Imperials, Raesa and Claevius.

Firstly, that their daughter was long-dead.

Secondly, that I was their granddaughter.

And maybe, if I was feeling adventurous, maybe I'd tell them about the whole Werewolf thing.

I gulped at the door of the home and raised my hand to knock. Then I heard Milos.

"We'll be over here," he said, tugging Hiemdall over to a stump near the garden.

Eduard lingered for a moment, then drew himself up. "Just ensure we make our way to this 'Labrynthian' soon. I'm eager to return home." He spun on his heel and made his way around Pinewatch, probably to survey the land. I sighed for the second time in an hour and gulped, then faced the door.

A few seconds after knocking, Raesa opened the door.

The corner of my mouth quirked upward. "Hi," I greeted softly. "May I come in?"

Raesa happily let me enter. It took all I had not to blurt everything out the second the door was closed, but instead I made small talk and waited a while before easing the conversation into the direction I wanted to go.

Sipping a bit of tea Raesa had brewed, I smiled gently at the two.

"So... Have I ever got a story for you two."

"Oh?" Claevius, my grandfather, grinned and spun his bottle of mead. "How does it start, girl?"

"Well..." I smiled broadly at the sight of them. "It starts with my escape from the Thalmor at the border of Cyrodiil and Skyrim, when I got this scar here. But I want to go back a bit further. See, I was raised in Anvil, and I was an orphan..."