Chapter 23: Goodbye is a Second Chance

My bags were packed. The few things I owned that I wasn't taking with me were safely stored in one of the back rooms of Sanctuary. I had put most of my money into a lockbox and put it in with the rest of my things. I didn't think anyone would steal from me—not in the Dark Brotherhood—but I wanted to make sure that skeevers didn't run off with my septims to line their nests. I was only bringing a couple of purses of coins with me for expenses and emergencies.

I'd made sure to neatly make my bed; after all, it would probably be someone else's bed soon enough. That gave me a twinge to think about. I hadn't slept in it much for the last week while I was recovering from my injuries and a nervous breakdown, but I'd had the same bed for two years, ever since I came to Sanctuary. In theory, anyone without a private room—which was most of the Brotherhood—could sleep in any bed that wasn't occupied when they came back from a contract. In practice, everyone had their own preferred sleeping space.

I sat down on the edge of the bed and ran my hand along the frame. On the underside of the wooden headboard, I could feel the rough place where I had carved my initials my first week of living in Sanctuary, before I had really understood the whole "communal living" thing.

"Checking for a hidden knife?" Meena asked me as she walked into the common room and sat down on a bed across from mine. Meena was one of the few who actually followed the theory of the communal sleeping arrangement. Whenever she got back from wherever she had been, she just flopped into any unoccupied bed and passed out. Sometimes, she didn't bother with the "unoccupied" part.

"No," I said, pulling my hand back, "I've already packed all my weapons away." I stood and stretched, picking up the leather travel pack from the floor. "Nazir says I shouldn't need any while I'm at college anyway."

"Don't sound so disappointed, kitten," Meena said sympathetically. "In this one's experience, you can always find a good excuse to kill someone if you're looking hard enough." She smiled her impish cat-smile and I walked over to give her a hug.

"Thank you, sister," I said formally. She pushed me away, looking actually embarrassed for the first time since I had met her.

"This one accepts your gratitude," she muttered. "But don't expect another hug in front of the others. This one would never live it down."

"Of course not," I replied in mock-sincerity. The Khajiit nodded graciously and sauntered back out of the room. Once she was gone I considered if she had only come here to say goodbye privately; it seemed too sentimental for her, but she hadn't done anything else while she was here. Even after two years, Meena was the sibling I knew the least.

I shook my head to clear it out and shouldered my travel bag. Most of my possessions were in a big trunk that was already loaded onto a wagon, but the bag held a few things to get me through the next few days on the road. It held a couple of changes of clothes, some wrapped bread and cheese, an emergency knife, a firebox… all things that I had kicked myself for not having when I left Riften the first time.

I looked at the bed one last time. It would still be here when I got back, but it might not be mine anymore. I wondered if that applied to me too. Would I still belong when I came back? I knew that my family loved me, but I had come to understand that love wasn't like a stone, permanent and unchanging. Love was like a garden; if you didn't tend it, it died. Would their love for me wither without me here?

It was almost hilarious to think about, really. I could go into battle without a thought for my own life, but the idea of being alone for two years made me freeze up and want to cry. I shook myself again to try and clear out the introspective thoughts. Whether I wanted to go or not, the decision had been made. I would go to Solitude and become a better servant of the Night Mother, even if I still didn't understand how training to become a bard would do that. Hecate was the Listener; her decisions weren't always perfect, but they usually worked out for the best. If she wanted this for me, then I would do it.

I knew I was still stalling, so I finally turned away from the bed—just the bed, not my bed anymore—and walked out of the common room, into the future.

It was time.

"Ah!" cried the Fool of Hearts. "Here he is! Cicero was beginning to worry that the boy had decided he was too hurt to travel!" The jester capered toward me, a jaunty smile on his face. I was expecting him to clap me on the back, regardless of the fact that I still had cracked ribs and some kind of pulled muscle, but instead he gingerly took my backpack off my shoulder and slung it over his own.

"Thanks," I murmured. I still envied Cicero's relationship with Hecate, and I still feared him a little bit—but I remembered him staying by my side when everyone else had come and gone like the breeze.

When everyone thought I was dying, only Cicero stayed. I could forgive that of Hecate—I could forgive her nearly anything—but I was still angry at Nazir for not even coming to see me. Even Meena had poked her head in for a little while when she thought I couldn't hear her, and Garnag had stayed longer than anyone but Cicero. I suppose I had just thought that Nazir would care more than he had.

"Are you ready?" Hecate asked as she breezed up and swept me into a deep hug. One positive result of my near-death experience was that Hecate was more willing to show her affection for me now. I didn't even mind that she was making my ribs ache.

"As ready as I'm ever going to be," I responded with my best fake smile. Inside, I was still close to tears, but it was more manageable now.

"Well, Nazir made a hearty breakfast for you," she said. "Go eat up, and as soon as you're done, we can head out."

"Would it be okay if I took some time to say my goodbyes after breakfast?" I asked.

"I suppose so," Hecate allowed, though her expression said that she thought it a strange thing to do. "It's not like you'll be away forever. But if you want to, we can take a little time." I hugged her back in thanks and headed for the main hall. Cicero trailed after me, keeping my pack on his shoulder.

"Sweet Hecate means well," Cicero smiled, "but it does you credit that you want to say your goodbyes. You never know what's going to happen, after all." His face turned from a jaunty smile to a hanging tragedy mask in second. "You could go out for a little while and when you get back, everyone is dead! It wouldn't be the first time…"

"I'm sure it will be okay, Cicero," I assured him, worried that he would burst into tears from his expression.

"I'm just saying," he insisted, his expression becoming more neutral, "that it's always good to treat each greeting and departure like they could be your last. You never know ahead of time how much time you have left with someone." He looked at me very seriously, his eyes distant and pained. "Never put things off if you can help it, Aventus. Not hello, not goodbye, and not I-love-you."

"You called me by my name," I said, slightly stunned. "You've never done that before."

"Cicero doesn't know what the boy means," he chirped, his tone teasing. "The Keeper has surely called the boy by his name before. It isn't poor Cicero's fault that the boy's memory is faulty. And at such a young age!"

I shook my head and sighed as we stepped into the main hall. Several of the Brotherhood were gathered over breakfast, though Babette and Nazir were missing. Given the sounds drifting out of the kitchen, I figured that Nazir was finishing up breakfast, and it was rare for Babette to be awake after dawn. I would be sad to leave without seeing Babette, especially since it seemed like we were finally getting back on good terms, but if she didn't want to be here for it then I wasn't about to wake her up.

Geldii nodded to me as I walked up to my usual spot at the table, and Deesei came over to sit next to me.

"Welcome back to the living, landstrider," she said with what I guessed passed for a smile from an Argonian. "Seems a shame that you'll be leaving just as you're up and about."

"Thanks, Deesei," I said sincerely. "I'd rather take a few more days to heal up, honestly. But apparently the semester starts next week and I need to be there when it starts to make a good impression. Can't seem like a slacker from day one, after all."

"No," she agreed, "that comes later." I laughed and she patted my hand before returning to her own seat.

Looking around, I noticed that everyone else had already eaten, their plates and bowls neatly stacked up together at the end of the table.

"Nothing left for me?" I asked Vedave as he stood up from his seat.

"Just the opposite," the Dark Elf responded. "Nazir made the rest of us finish early so he could make you something special. Given how good a cook our local Redguard is, I'm almost envious." He smiled and linked arms with Anaril, who nodded at me pleasantly.

"Travel safely, brother," Anaril said. "Kill well and kill often."

"I don't know how much killing I'll get to do while I'm gone," I replied, "but thank you for the sentiment." The High Elf nodded graciously, then he and Vedave swept out of the room.

Elbent waited until they were gone before making his way over to me. The Breton had a perpetual scowl and a face that looked like his last acquaintance with a razor was some days prior but he was one of our best social gadflies, able to make connections with ease. He had been invaluable in rebuilding Nazir's spy networks since he had joined, as well as making us contacts at every level of society in Skyrim. Having heard about his son's tragic death, I couldn't help but feel a little sorry for him too.

"Hecate had me set you up an emergency stash," he said without preamble. "You'll be in Solitude under your own name, so I had an account set up for you at the Imperial exchequer's office."

"Ex-checker?" I asked.

"Exchequer," he responded, correcting my pronunciation. "It's the office that runs the Imperial postal service and mint here in Skyrim. Every province has one. They bank money for the nobility, invest it in capital ventures, and collect the profits while also charging fees to their customers to keep their money safe. When the Empire declares that new coins be minted, the exchequer holds onto the original casts for the coins and registers the official weight of the septim." Seeing my blank look, Elbent sighed. "They make money," he concluded.

"Ohhhhhhh," I sighed, finally getting it.

"Anyway," he coughed, "if you need funds for your schooling, you've got some money set away legally at the exchequer's office. You'll just have to give them your name and this number." He handed me a piece of paper with a long number written on it in neat, blocky numerals.

"Thanks," I said, offering him my hand. He shook it amicably. As he started to walk off, I hesitated, then finally spoke again. "I'm sorry about your son."

"You heard that?" he asked without looking back at me.

"Yeah," I replied, a little sheepishly.

"It was a long time ago," he finally said, his voice thick. He turned to look back at me with a thin smile that would have been called a grimace on anyone else's face. "At least I can rub it in those snooty elves' faces that you really could hear us." Then he walked out of the common room.

I was worried that I had upset him, but I didn't have time to think about it before noticing that I was now alone in the main hall with Eiruki. She was sitting a ways down the table from me, looking down as usual with her hair half-covering her face. I waved to her, which only made her hunch down in her chair further. I smiled to myself and shook my head; I didn't understand why Eiruki was so shy, especially with me—and especially after what had happened between us a few days ago.

Nazir came walking into the main hall with a tray, which Eiruki took as an opportunity to stand up. She walked past me on her way out of the room, pausing for a moment before Nazir got to the table. She leaned down and kissed me gently on the cheek, then jerked back as though burned.

"Kill well and kill often, Aventus," she whispered in her usual barely-audible tones.

"Kill well and kill often, sister," I replied formally. I reached out and took her hand for just a moment, squeezing it affectionately. She returned the gesture before pulling away and taking off.

"I'm glad to see you took my advice with that one," Nazir rumbled as he started moving plates and bowls from the tray to the table.

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean," I returned, perhaps more coldly than I had meant to.

"Either way," Nazir continued, not seeming to notice my tone, "I hope you enjoy breakfast. It's the last time you'll be getting my cooking for a while, so I wanted to make something special." I looked down at the spread; none of it was the usual stuff I had come to expect from Nazir's tasty, filling breakfasts.

"What's all this?" I asked.

"Well, you see," he said, putting down a plate for himself and sitting down, "I always do my best when I cook for the family. But there are limitations on the kind of things you can make when you're cooking for a dozen people." He gestured at the plates in front of us. "This is a traditional Redguard breakfast: flatbread with hummus, lentil soup, jibnah fatayer, ful, and labneh."

"You had me up until that last bit," I admitted.

"Labneh is a kind of cream made with mint," he explained. "You serve it with olives and spread it on the flatbread. A fatayer is a kind of pastry; jibnah means it's stuffed with cheese and spinach. Ful is two kinds of beans mashed and cooked together with garlic and lemon."

"Isn't that a little heavy for breakfast?" I asked.

"Not in Hammerfell," Nazir laughed. "If you're from the working class, breakfast is supposed to carry you through to mid-afternoon when we have lunch. Dinner is our lightest meal, since it's considered unhealthy to go to sleep with a full stomach." He began to spread something on the flatbread, which I emulated since I wasn't entirely sure which dish was which from his explanation.

"It's good!" I exclaimed after taking my first bite. I was shocked not because it was good—Nazir's food was always good—but at how much better than usual it was. If Nazir's usual dishes were a delight, this meal was like the Divines themselves had blessed it.

"I'm glad you like it," he said with a smile. "This sort of food is hard to cook for more than a couple of people at a time."

"Nazir," I started, putting my food down for a moment, "is this an apology for not visiting me while I was hurt?"

"Nothing to apologize for," he replied between mouthfuls. "I just wanted to give you a good meal for the road." He looked at me and wiped his mouth.

"Then why didn't you come see me?" I pushed. "Everyone else did, at least for a little while."

"You only visit people like that when you think they're going to die," Nazir said. "I never thought you were going to die." He smiled and patted my shoulder. "I'll admit you did give me a scare there near the end. But I never thought you would die."

I turned away from the Redguard for a moment so that he wouldn't see how close to tears I was. I wiped my eyes with a napkin and turned back to the spread Nazir had laid out for me.

"So how do you eat this?" I asked, pointing at something dark in a bowl.

"Carefully," Nazir responded, "as you should with all good meals."

We laughed together, just the two of us, enjoying a good meal on my last day in Sanctuary for a long time to come. Maybe it was because I had spent so much time hungry when I was younger, but I never felt more at home than when I was sharing food with my family.

"Do you have everything you'll need?" Hecate asked as she checked the ropes holding down my trunk one last time.

"As far as I know," I responded. She looked at me crossly as though I were being intentionally difficult. "I'm just saying, you never know for sure you have everything you need until the trip is over. I have everything I think I'll need…"

"Good enough!" she responded with mock-cheer. Hecate's mood had soured as we finished packing up the wagon. I guessed that the fact I was really leaving was sinking in for her.

"I'll say my last goodbyes," I said, "and then I'll grab Nazir."

"Did I not mention?" she asked. "Nazir won't be going with you to Solitude." I sighed; it was pretty typical for Hecate to change plans at the last minute without letting anyone know.

"Am I going alone?" I asked. I didn't mind, really. It was a long trip, but I'd traveled alone before.

"I'm going with you," she said. "We've had some last-minute information come in about the civil war that makes it important for me to meet with Jarl Elisif. Cicero has to stay here to oil the Night Mother, or he'd be coming along too."

"Will I get to meet Elisif?" I asked. I'd heard that the widow of High King Torygg was very pretty, which was why she bore the title "the Fair."

"I think you'll have to," Hecate replied.

"What do you mean?" I asked. Everything was getting confused for me with these last-minute changes.

"Well, you see…" she dithered as she fiddled with the ropes. "I got you into the Bard's College as a late addition by pulling some strings with the headmaster, Viarmo. He's an old acquaintance. But I had to do that as Diana the Dragonborn. Now that this 'false Dragonborn' is ruining my good name—my old name—I have to put in an appearance at the Blue Palace to let everyone know that it's not really me working with Ulfric Stormcloak."

"That makes sense," I allowed, walking to keep up with her as she nervously circled the wagon.

"Since we enrolled you under your real name," she continued, "you're connected with Diana the Dragonborn now. So you'll have to be extra careful about not letting on that you're with the Dark Brotherhood."

"Well, I wasn't planning on drawing any attention anyway," I interrupted. "It's not like I was going to go running across rooftops in my shrouded armor."

"The problem is," she went on like she hadn't heard me, "Viarmo wanted to know how you're connected to me." She stopped and looked at me before the words came rushing out of her. "I didn't know what else to say so I told him that you're my adopted son and the reason I went missing for two years is that I got married and started a family and spent a bunch of time at High Hrothgar meditating and I'm back now because of hearing about the false Dragonborn and he kind of went and made a big deal about it to Elisif because she was upset about me siding with her husband's killer and..." She took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a moment to calm down. She finally continued, more slowly, "So now everyone in the jarl's court thinks that you're my adopted son."

"Hecate," I said carefully, "could you repeat that in a way that makes sense?"

"Aventus," she responded seriously, "if people outside the court were to find out that you are my adopted son, you could be targeted by my enemies. So Jarl Elisif and her advisors will know, but you are going to have to keep it a secret from everyone else. Viarmo has said that you will receive no special treatment from him—and even the other instructors will not know. But you are going to have to be very careful about not letting people know about our relationship."

"No problem," I said with real nonchalance. "I don't plan on making any friends or anything, so it's not like I have to worry about accidentally telling anyone. And since I won't be going on contracts while I'm in Solitude, I don't have to worry about getting caught." I brushed my hands together in a show of confidence. "Easy peasy."

"Let's hope so," Hecate said. "In my experience, these things have a way of getting out of hand all too quickly."

Everything was secured, food was packed on the wagon, and my family had come outside for one last goodbye. Nazir, Garnag, Meena and Cicero had all hugged me at least a couple of times each, despite Meena seeming embarrassed by the show of affection. The sun was nearly overhead, but the air was still chill and brisk with the oncoming autumn. It was Hearthfire, and time for me to go.

"I'll miss all of you," I said tearfully once Nazir had let me go.

"It's not that long," Nazir insisted. "And the Listener will be up to Solitude every now and again for political reasons. Who knows? I might even find an excuse to visit myself."

"I hope so," I replied.

"Almost forgot," Nazir said with an expression that told me he hadn't actually forgotten anything. "When you get to Solitude and have some privacy, check your travel chest. I think you'll find some surprises."

"A present?" I asked.

"Let's call it security," he said. "You shouldn't need to exercise your craft while you're away at school, but better to have something and not need it…"

"Than to need it and not have it," I finished, and we both laughed.

"That reminds me," Hecate said, pulling a piece of paper out of her pocket. "Babette asked me to give you this right before we left." I took it from her and read it aloud, since Cicero was looking at it over my shoulder anyway.

"Aventus," it started, "despite everything, I find that I will miss you—enough that if I have to watch you go, I might actually become less than composed. As no one wants that, I will suffice with a letter saying that I will be here when you come back. Since you are not especially good at looking out for yourself—as our all too brief association has proven—I am making a loan to you of something precious to me that will help keep you safe. It is only a loan. I WILL WANT IT BACK. If you look to the wagon, you should see it now."

I was a bit confused. If it were just some potions or something, I couldn't see how I would give them back to her. When I turned to look at the wagon, on a spot that had been empty before, Pavot was sitting comfortably, his long black tongue lolling out of his open mouth. He gave me a look as if to say "I thought we were going" and then settled in to rest his head on his paws.

"Is it okay?" I asked Hecate. "Will they let me bring him?"

"I don't see why not," she said. "Lots of people have pets."

"Not full-grown ice wolves," I replied.

Looking at Pavot, I marveled at how big he had gotten. In only a year and a half, he had filled out to almost two hundred pounds and somewhere near six feet long. He was bigger than I was, though I still had a little ways to go before I finished growing. His thick white pelt was shaggy as it was filling in for the coming cold, and his massive fangs could easily shatter bone. I had taken him hunting often enough to realize that there were few things in the wilds of Skyrim that could stand up to an angry ice wolf—up to and including bears.

"We'll work something out," Hecate said, and I believed her. Not everything Hecate did was perfect, but she usually made things work out—somehow.

"Tell Babette thanks for me," I said to Nazir with a smile.

"Tell her yourself when you get home," he retorted.

I mounted up onto the wagon, pausing a moment to scratch Pavot behind the ears. Hecate climbed up with me and took the reins. I raised an eyebrow at her, wondering if she even knew how to drive a wagon, but she only shrugged.

"We miss you already!" Cicero shouted as the wagon began to move. "Don't forget poor Cicero!"

I waved at the jester as he jumped up and down, then turned to look forward. I was afraid that if I kept looking back, I might just jump off the wagon and run back to them—to my family. They were everything I had ever wanted, after all. But they would be there when I got home.

I turned my eyes forward and looked to the future.

It was after dark when we stopped the wagon, pulling it over to the side of the road. There was plenty of room in the back for our bedrolls so we didn't bother going to the trouble of making a camp. My breath steamed in the cold autumn air as I bundled up and got ready to bed down for the night. After all the packing and goodbyes and excitement of the day, I was exhausted. Pavot seemed perfectly willing to share his heat with me; after running alongside the wagon for most of the day, I could only imagine that he was just as tired as I was.

Hecate was sitting up with her back pressed against the sidewall of the wagon, a lantern next to her and a book in her hand. She looked over to me as I was struggling to lay out my sleeping bag, and with an impish grin patted her lap.

"Don't you think I'm a little old to sit on your lap?" I asked, my teeth chattering slightly.

"But not old enough that you can't put your head on my lap while you sleep," she returned. At my dubious look, she assured me, "When I'm ready to sleep, I'll move you as quietly as possible."

"Okay then," I said, enjoying any chance to be close to the Listener.

I came over and laid my head on her thigh, then closed the sleeping bag around me. Pavot trotted over and curled his big, furry flank up against me, his body head immediately chasing away the chill of the autumn night. Hecate put a warm hand on my brow, playing with my hair as sleep overcame me.

Sometime during the night I started half-awake, shadows pursuing me up out of sleep. I shuddered with barely-remembered nightmares and turned to look up at the sky. The twin moons hung full in the black, tinged orange from the harvest season. I heard myself whimper slightly, and I couldn't quite remember where I was or what was going on.

"It's okay," a woman's voice soothed me. "It'll be fine. I'm right here."

"Mom?" I asked, still more asleep than awake.

"Yes, sweetheart," the woman said. "I'm here. You're not alone."

"I love you, mom," I muttered, sleep already reclaiming me.

"I love you too, Aventus," she replied.

The rest of the night was calm and easy, one of the best nights of sleep I'd ever had.

THE END

Author's Note: Thank you all for reading. It's been my pleasure to write the story of Aventus Aretino, the littlest assassin. I'm so grateful for the reviews that people have left, as well as all of the encouragement and praise. Even just a note to let me know you're reading my story helps keep me going when things are tough. Even though I'm a professional writer, this is the longest piece of fiction I've ever completed. Sometimes it was hard to convince myself to continue—real life getting in the way, being busy, that sort of thing—but whenever I saw that people actually cared about what I had to say, I found the heart to keep on going. So thank you all.

Also, many thanks to my lovely wife, Heiwako, who started all of this with a little story some of you might have read—Darkness Rises When Silence Dies. That fiction and its fantastic sequel, For the Future of Skyrim, inspired me as a writer in ways that very little else has ever done. Moreover, her ridiculously prolific writing pace shamed me into becoming a more efficient writer in order to keep up. So, Heiwako: I love you.

Finally, I want to let everyone know that even though Innocence Lost is over, the story of Aventus Aretino isn't done yet. I'll be continuing his tale in a new fiction, entitled The Age of Assassins, picking up with his arrival at Solitude for his training as a bard. A lot of questions will be answered—including whatever happened to the other kids at Honorhall Orphanage. Please keep reading, and I hope you enjoy The Age of Assassins as much as Innocence Lost.