Authors Notes:

Hey there! Thank you all for giving my first chapter a shot, this one is going to be much longer. I do intend to make the chapters roughly this length unless the story needs something different. This chapter does get dark and graphic, just a heads up!

Please leave a comment or review if you're so inclined and I should be back with chapter three soon I hope.

Chapter 2 - The Trek

The journey south would be a long and perilous one, on average it would take Nightingale approximately three days to walk from Winterhold to Riften. Assuming of course, that all goes without incident.

Nightingale passed on the outskirts of Winterhold to not draw any attention to himself; he debated stopping at Birnas' Oddments, the local trading post, to stock up on supplies before making the week-long journey. Looking at the city that lay as a shell of its former self, due to the Great Collapse, he decided to pass it by as too many of the residents knew who he was, or, rather, what he had done to earn his titles.

A massive snowstorm soon enveloped Nightingale as he trudged along the roads of Skyrim causing him to be nearly blinded by the flurry of snow that encompassed the landscape around him.

"Fuck, I should've stopped in Winterhold," Nightingale muttered to himself as he plowed along through the unforgiving storm.

The cold didn't bother the Dragonborn as much due to his nordic blood, rather, he quite enjoyed being cold as it was uncomfortable and kept his senses on high alert. Nightingale heavily enjoyed being miserable, whether it was due to the weather, physical pain, or sheer loneliness that came with his self-imposed solitude. As his quest for answers about who he was continued to yield no results, the pain became the one thing that he could hold onto as something tangible. The one feeling that he knew was his, however, hunger was a different story. Hunger caused Nightingale to feel incredibly weak, he could feel his magic and stamina reserves dwindling as he starved. That would cause an issue as he relied heavily on being able to move fast, summon bound weapons, and turn invisible in combat situations.

About halfway through his journey, Nightingale heard someone scream "HEEEEELP!" from a distance.

Unable to pinpoint the location of the scream, Nightingale continued to march through the blizzard as it would be pointless to go running into the pure white distance with no destination in mind.

Several minutes went by and the scream came again. "SOMEONE PLEASE!" in a much louder tone.

Nightingale had a rule, if it was an animal claiming the life of a man then he would not intervene as that was a part of nature and not his business. He only offered his assistance if it was a monster, such as vampires or werewolves attacking the men, and sometimes bandits if it got too severe. He felt men should be able to protect themselves from common threats, women however were a different story. As a strong capable man with the soul of a dragon, he felt it was his duty to protect the women of Tamriel.

A few minutes go by and the howling winds finally go down leaving a light flurry of snowflakes to continue falling in the aftermath of the blizzard. Nightingale stared in wonder as the sky was illuminated by the northern lights, which never ceased to amaze the man.

"Please stop!" Nightingale heard a woman sob from just over the ridge that was just ahead of him. Staying low Nightingale moved towards the ridge to see what was going on.

Down below he noticed a carriage overturned and the horse that was pulling it was just in front of it and had its intestines brutally ripped out through the belly as if something was playing with the carcass.

Roughly fifteen feet in front of the gutted horse was the source of the screams. A woman was pinned on her belly with her head being forcibly held up to watch the man she was with be beaten by two other men with a fourth standing on the outskirts of the interaction as if keeping watch.

One last punch was thrown at the traveler and the assailant turned to the woman. "No one can hear you scream, you whore," he sneered at her. "Don't you know that it's foolish to travel so unguarded at night." the man said as he chuckled and his men started to laugh with him.

Fucking vampires. Nightingale thought to himself as he saw the group's eyes glow orange like the embers from a fire.

"Please just let us go." the woman said as she continued to sob into the ground.

"Oh you're not going anywhere." the vampire's leader said coyly. "You see, we're going to drink your pathetic husband dry and take you as our thrall where we can feed on you for days and maybe… have some fun."

The woman tried to bury her face in the snow and her sobs became louder as she felt her fate was sealed.

Enraged Nightingale started to make his way down the ridge, he had to do this right or he'd risk the travelers being killed by the vampires out of shock. He needed to get the attention of the vampires who had the travelers in hand first before he struck them down.

"You! Make her watch as I feed on her mate." The leader called to the orc who had the women pinned.

Seeing as it was now or never Nightingale snuck up behind the vampire that was on lookout and conjured up a dagger as it would be a shorter blade than his sword. In one fluid motion, he put the vampire in a choke hold as he plunged his dagger into his torso.

"AAGGHH" the first vampire screamed, alerting his pack.

The three vampires turned to face their ally in horror as he was being stabbed in the stomach over and over again. Only to finally have it slashed open allowing his insides to paint the snow red and his intestines to fall at his feet.

Once satisfied with his kill, Nightingale dropped the vampire's corpse and his ethereal dagger to face the three vampires remaining.

"Oh you're going to pay for that." the pack leader said. He and the other two vampires left the travelers where they were and advanced on Nightingale who had his hands behind his back.

Nightingale stood still, with his cloak flowing to his right due to the slight breeze that softly scraped along the landscape, allowing the vampires to make the first move. The vampire who had the woman pinned was the first to attack, being a large orc he overestimated his power as he lunged towards him. Faster than any mortal could move, Nightingale drew his blade and slashed off the orc's arms, up to his elbows, and his head in one fluid motion, sidestepping the body as it crashed into the ground and the blood that poured from the wounds. His blade transferred the energy from its victim to its wielder leaving Nightingale feeling slightly refreshed with every successful strike.

The two remaining vampires stumbled back in shock at how quickly this masked assailant moved, the blank expression from the mask unnerved the vampires, but they still had their egos as the man in the mask was still outnumbered two to one.

Nightingale slowly circled the undead abominations with one hand still behind his back and the other pointing his blade at them. Relieved he noticed the woman and made her way to her husband and was trying to pull him behind their overturned cart cart. Nightingale stopped moving once he put himself between the travelers and the vampires that remained.

The vampires acted in tandem, one throwing ice spikes and the other lighting bolts at the man who had just killed their friends. The attacks were sent with such force that the snow around them picked up and made it hard to see. After a minute or so of continuous magic firing the vampires stopped to see the results of their attack.

"Did we get him?" the lone pack member asked his leader.

"Impossible…" the leader mumbled as he saw Nightingale holding up a ward with his free hand that was just behind his back a moment ago.

Nightingales' voice seemed to pound into the heads of the vampires as he whispered, "My turn."

With speed unlike any other, Nightingale closed the distance between himself and the vampires. He leaped into the air and brought his blade point down to shove it straight down the throat of the lesser vampire causing him to stumble back and gurgle on his blood as he died.

"You will pay for your insolence mortal!" the leader screamed as he fired off more lightning bolts.

Dodging as many bolts as he could, Nightingale closed the distance between him and the last vampire. His luck did not last long with this tactic as one bolt caught him in the face knocking Vokun clean off and causing him to come to a stop on one knee with his face in his hands.

Nightingale's blood boiled with rage, he felt the pressure build-up behind his eyes as his rage grew, he could feel his power begging to be released, the power from dozens of dragon souls. He locked this power away, being it was one that he had not been able to control and was extremely destructive. His vision went redder and redder and his anger grew causing his eyes to feel like they were bulging out of their sockets.

"Not so tough now are you?" the last vampire asked mockingly. He approached the man on his knee and lifted his chin to look him in the eyes. "Who..? What are you..?" the vampire asked as he fell over and started to slide away in pure terror.

Nightingale stood and started to advance on the vampire, his eyes had gone the darkest black imaginable besides his pupils. His pupils were replaced with a hateful red glow, and they were turning almost reptilian, getting slimmer and longer every second.

Nightingale grabbed the sides of the vampire's head and looked him dead in the eyes. "I am the cure to your disease monster," he whispered, full of rage.

The vampire could feel his head getting hotter and hotter as he realized this man, no, this demon, was pouring flames out his hands to burn his head off.

Nightingale put his knee on the vampire's chest to pin him to the ground as he poured all his hate into the flames' spell and didn't let up until the blood curdling screams of the vampire ended and all that remained of his head was a burnt husk.

Destruction magic was not Nightingale's strong suit, he stumbled back feeling the pressure behind his eyes finally ease, and his vision returned to normal as his eyes reverted to their ice blue. Finding Vokun in the snow he put the mask back on and went to return to the couple that was hiding behind the cart, only they weren't there. He looked in the direction of Windhelm, not realizing how close he was to the city, and saw the couple stumbling towards the city as fast as they could.

Nightingale sighed with relief as he watched the couple disappear into the distance.

Not wanting to leave a mess in the area, Nightingale brought all the vampire's bodies and piled them on top of the dead horse and the fallen cart. After piling the bodies together, Nightingale pulled his blade from the throat of the vampire and wiped it clean on their clothes.

"Yol," Nightingale whispered, setting the pile on fire to leave it as ash to be blown off into the wind.

He hadn't used the Thuum in his fight as it would've led to more attention than he wanted. He'd rather see the couple run off believing that he is a monster than for them to stay around and sing his praises for being the Dragonborn.

Nightingale started to walk away from the scene of the battle when his vision darkened and he started to stumble with his stomach. "Fuck, I am hungry," he mumbled to himself.

Unsure of when he had last slept or even eaten for that matter, also with the fight having taken the last bit of his limited energy out of him, he decided he needed some food and rest.

Wanting to avoid Windhelm as there would be a greater chance of him being recognized, Nightingale headed for Kynesgrove which was only a couple of miles past Windhelm

I should go unrecognized in Kynesgrove. Nightingale thought to himself. The last time I was there was with Delphine almost eighteen months ago and I was wearing steel plate armor with an open helmet at the time.

As he approached Kynesgrove Nightingale thought about how Delphine wanted to use him to kill a dragon that Alduin was resurrecting to "test" if he was truly Dragonborn. Looking back that was just one of the many schemes Delphine had cooked up to use him to her advantage.

The town itself was miniscule, only having the mine, a couple of houses, and the Braidwood Inn. The only thing that had changed was the dragon skull that was mounted on the arch of the overhang in front of the main door.

Nice touch. Nightingale thought to himself. After killing a dragon, the corpse would glow and the scales, muscles, and organs would seem to burn off in a brilliant show of lights and rush into Nightingale as he absorbed their souls.

The warmth from the fire in the center of the room flooded around Nightingale as he entered the inn. The inn had a small main foyer and a total of three rooms that could be rented out if they were available, which they almost always were.

Walking up to the counter he was greeted by the owner Iddra. "Welcome to the Braidwood Inn traveler. What can I do for you?" She asked. She was cautious when talking to him due to the unease his mask gave her.

"Stew, mead, and that small room on my left for a night," Nightingale replied flatly while tossing septims on the counter.

"Sorry, that room is already taken for the next night. I can give you the large double bed on your right."

Puzzled that this town had another visitor, Nightingale simply said, "That will have to work," while tossing another couple of septims on the counter.

Nightingale walked into the bedroom and sat in the chair at the table that was in the corner and patiently waited.

"Here you go, let me know if you need anything else," Iddra said as she sat down a tray with his order and left the room quickly, closing the door behind her.

Sighing, Nightingale lowered his hood, removed Vokun from his face and placed the mask on the table along with his sword, and slowly began to eat his stew. After he finished his stew he began to drink his mead when he heard footsteps approaching his door.

"Don't worry Iddra I'll have a chat with your visitor," a familiar feminine voice came from the door as it slowly opened.

Bolting to his feet Nightingale replaced Vokun on his face and raised the hood over his head as he faced the door. He thought he recognized the voice but was still surprised to see the most fetching member of the Companions, Aela the Huntress, enter his room.

"Ah, Harbinger. What brings you out this way?" Aela greeted snarkily. "Don't worry Iddra, he's a friend."

"If you're going to intrude then close the door," Nightingale said angrily. "And don't use that name."

"As you wish," Aela said as she closed the door and sat on his bed crossing her legs and leaning back. "You know it's been months since you left us without warning. Besides Farkas, none of us knew that you weren't coming back."

"That was the point, I'm done with the Companions. I did my time, freed Kodlak, Farkas, Vilkas, and myself from that curse you gave me."

"It's not a curse, it's a gift from Hircine. A gift that you accepted gratefully I might add, though looking back on it I know now that you had, shall we say, ulterior motives," Aela said with a smirk and twirling her bright red hair.

Nightingale leaned on the table across the room listening to Aela's seductive voice and watching her long lean body twitch under her revealing ancient Nord armor. "So it took you this long that I only accepted the blood to be with you? You are slow."

Aela laughed at his response and replied, "I felt your eyes linger every day that you were near me. I knew that you wanted me from the start. She got off the bed and walked towards Nightingale putting her hand on his chest and whispered seductively, "Even without the blood you have great… stamina, why don't we, I don't know, rekindle… some of those memories?"

Nightingale's heart started to speed up, the offer was tempting of course. He started to think about how her body moved, felt, and tasted while they were together, the way her green warpaint would smudge from the sweat. Those were some of the best memories that he had over the last two years.

Aela's hand ran up his chest and moved towards the bottom of Vokun, but he caught her hand before she could remove his mask.

"You know I like to see your face when we're together," Aela scolded.

"We're not. I'm not being used by you again," Nightingale said as he pushed her off of him. "Now stop acting like a bitch in heat and get out."

Aela laughed at his response before responding. "You know, you are the first man to turn me down. Just remember… the offer stands whenever you decide to come home."

"Get. The. Fuck. Out."

Aela slowly exited the room purposefully swaying her hips to tease Nightingale and closed the door behind her. "Iddra, the fool means you no harm, but I am leaving tonight actually," Aela said loud enough for Nightingale to hear.

Not bothering to listen for the response, Nightingale replaced Vokun on the table and laid on his bed too exhausted to remove his armor. Slowly he drifted off to sleep and as always his dreams were plagued by nightmares.

"What's happening? Where am I? Who am I?" Nightingale said aloud.

He began running through stone tunnels struggling to find a way out. He could hear a storm raging from all around and slowly the tunnels began to darken no matter which way he ran. The rain got louder, the winds raged faster and thunder began to boom through the tunnels sending vibrations through his body.

Finally, Nightingale reached an open cell where he could see there was a window. He ran to the window only for it to vanish as he entered the cell, in its place was a mirror.

Nightingale looked at the mirror and stared at Vokun, he felt the pressure behind his eyes build so great that he felt as if his head would explode. Slowly he removed Vokun and instead of seeing his normal face, he saw his eyes were black and his pupils were sharp like slits and bright red. His face began to shift as it formed a cruel and terrible smile.

"Who are you?" Nightingale said aloud.

"I'm you," his reflection said back.

Staggering back, Nightingale turned to run out of the cell only for the door to shut and lock in his face. Rattling the door he tried to break it free to no avail.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

The walls and ceiling began to leak water and the room began to flood, faster and faster. Panicking Nightingale turned back around only to see himself as if he had come out of the mirror itself, it grabbed his shoulders and shrieked into his face until the room was pitch black and flooded with water.

Nightingale couldn't breathe, he could only see the red in the slits of the eyes in front of him. Giving in, he was ready to breathe in the water and let himself die.

Nightingale sat bolt upright in his bed drenched in his sweat and shaking out of pure fear. I've had this dream so many times, what does it mean? He thought to himself, bringing his knees to his chest and burying his head in his arms.

Nightingale sat like that for several minutes focusing on his breath to slow his heart rate and bring back a sense of calm.

After what felt like an hour he got off his bed to stretch out and went over to finish his mead that he had forgotten about.

CRASH! CLATTER! BANG!

The sudden commotion alerted Nightingale, he placed Vokun back on his face, put his hood on, and went over to the door to see if he could hear what was happening.

"QUIET BITCH!" a man yelled from outside. "WHEN I PAY FOR A ROOM AND A WHORE, I GET A ROOM AND A WHORE!"

"WE DON'T HAVE ANY WHORES HERE!" Iddra screamed in terror.

"THEN YOU WILL HAVE TO DO!"

Nightingale threw his door open to see a large Nord smacking Iddra across the face as she cowered away. She had blood coming from her mouth and the straps of her dress were torn, she did her best to keep herself covered as he sobbed while scooting away.

"This doesn't concern you," the attacker told Nightingale. "You can have a turn when I'm done if you want," he said with a smirk.

"Get behind me," Nightingale told Iddra.

Frantically she scurried behind Nightingale and hid behind the wall that separated his room from the foyer sobbing.

Fists clenched, Nightingale approached the man and punched him square in the jaw before he could utter a word. The man hit the floor and tried to speak before he was kicked in the jaw and a sickening crunch came from the bone.

Nightingale grabbed the man by his collar and pulled him up so he could look into his eyes. The man's jaw was dislocated and his nose was shattered, he had blood coming from his mouth and nose rendering him virtually mute.

"Tell me why I shouldn't kill you now," Nightingale said.

Unable to speak, the attacker could only gurgle on his blood and had a sheer look of terror on what remained of his face.

"Not good enough," Nightingale said as he dragged the man towards the hearth of the fire and forced him to bite on the edge.

Satisfied with the placement Nightingale brought his foot above the head of the man while he was sobbing and stomped on the head with such force it nearly split in half. The sound was sickening, blood sprayed everywhere, you could hear steam on the fire, teeth clattered in every direction as the man lay still.

Nightingale wiped his boot off on the man's clothes and went back to his room to retrieve his sword.

He grabbed his sword and averted his gaze from the exposed Iddra as her face was in her hands instead of covering her breasts. "You're safe now. Call the guard after I leave and you clean yourself up," Nightingale said as he secured his sword to his belt.

"Th-th-than you," Iddra said through her sobs. "You're a hero."

"That, I am not."

Nightingale exited the inn and again headed south towards Fort Dawnguard to see if they were worth his time and energy.