The morning was rough for Cyldris. He woke up with the nightmare playing over and over in his head. It just didn't make sense. Why would he have killed the people who saved him? He wasn't a monster! Hoping it was just a twisted dream, Cyldris continued to prepare for the day, but another weight was on his shoulders. He needed to tell Ondolemar the truth about his past. If they were going to trust each other, then he also needed to come clean. Dressed and ready to go for their travels, he was already having breakfast by the time Ondolemar came out of his room, also dressed, and joined him. After breakfast, they packed food and water. Yesterday, the Altmer had bought his own supplies, but they still have yet to find sleeping rolls. Once they made sure they had everything, the pair left the inn.

"To Markarth?" Ondolemar asked as they stepped outside.

"To Markarth." Cyldris smiled up at him. "Your old home."

He pleasantly chuckled.

They left the gloomy city of Falkreath and began to follow the road north. It was a beautiful morning with birds singing and the fog amongst the forest. It was tranquil.

"Cyldris?" Ondolemar asked after twenty minutes of silence. "You seem quiet."

"Hm? Oh, I'm just tired." He cracked a smile. "And listening to the sounds of nature." It wasn't a complete lie.

"If you're worried about Kinthal, we'll face him soon."

"Oh, I know." That was the least of his worries. If he had killed those farmers, then this was the second time something like this had happened. The only reason he knew that the first time had an occurred was when another slave–

"Cyldris?"

He looked at him, alarmed. "Hm? What?"

Ondolemar slightly tilted his head. "Are you alright? You seemed to have drifted off somewhere."

"Uh, yeah." Cyldris tried to smile reassuringly. "I'm fine."

"You're lying." He bluntly stated.

"I, uh…." Unable to look at those golden eyes anymore, he looked away. He needed to be honest and to do that was to start from the very beginning. Whether he wanted to or not. "I, uh, I killed a Thalmor."

"What? When?" His tone was of surprise. Not of anger.

"Thirty years ago, when I was twenty, I was a slave and…I-I blacked out. I don't remember. I just remember coming to and he was dead. I stabbed him repeatedly. Another slave found me over the body and helped me escaped." He swallowed down a knot. "I remember he threatened to have me tortured for breaking a plate. A plate. He just liked watching us suffer…. That was the only time I blacked out." At least he hoped it was.

"Curious," his companion murmured. "Ambassador Elenwin's husband was murdered by his slave around that same time. An elf named Cydorn Thornheart stabbed him to death."

His heart skipped a beat at the sound of his birth name. The last time he heard it was thirty years ago. He kept his gaze low.

"She's had a bounty on his head since."

Cyldris blood turned cold, regretting his confession.

"You are Cydorn Thornheart, aren't you?" He coldly accused.

Feeling to cold stare upon him, he was unable to lie. "Yes…. I am."

"Do you know what your bounty is?"

"No…."

"Fifteen thousand Septims."

He meekly looked at him with a lame smirk. "You're going to sell me out, aren't you?"

Ondolemar waved a hand. "Gods, no."

He frowned. "You paid your debt when you killed that Dunmer. Fifteen thou–"

"Yes, but now we have Kinthal to worry about."

"What's the catch?"

Ondolemar looked at him. "Catch? There is no catch."

His eyes snapped open. "She's offering 15,000 coins for my head and you are going to let it go?" Money was never a concern for him, for he preferred to live off the land, but he was well aware how it was for many.

"Would you rather me throw you in shackles and lead you to Elenwin?" He scoffed. "Please. Besides, I'm not part of the Thalmor anymore and if I did want to sell you out, I would be also be seen as a traitor to the Thalmor and be killed. You have no choice, but to trust me because I don't want that fate befalling me."

They fell into a moment of thoughtful silence.

"Ondolemar?" Cyldris carefully asked.

"Yes?"

He was unable to look at him. "If you do betray me, promise me you won't take me to Elenwin. Just kill me, okay? She'll torture me to death." He noticed the Altmer look at him.

"What did I just say?"

Cyldris met his gaze. "Please."

Ondolemar sighed, looking ahead of himself. "If I were to betray you, I would slit your throat, then proceed to cut off your head for proof. If you betray me for any reason, I wouldn't blame you."

He laughed, but it was hollow. "I can't betray my friends."

They fell into a longer silence.

The walk to the Reach was long, but eventually the silence wore off as they would share light conversation. Cyldris began to hate how stunning the Altmer was in the sunlight. He was like a creature of the Sun itself. His pale-blond hair flowed over his shoulders and his fine, narrow features should be painted for a portrait. His yellow skin was even kissed by the sun. His eyes were pools of liquid gold, drowning the poor Wood Elf in their riches. How could a creature of the Sun walk a path of darkness and hatred? How could a being such as Cyldris himself pine for such beauty? He knew the Altmer were very proud of their race and is this why? Did they also compare their beauty to the Sun? Was Cyldris finally understanding his inferiority to such a superior race? He hated that he was attracted to an Altmer, let alone a former Thalmor. He knew if his companion did have a change of mind, he'd have a knife to this throat, or worse, shackled once more and led to a horrific death. He needed to keep his heart to himself. Like the sun, he needed to be cautious in the Altmer's presence.

It took them a couple of hours to arrive at the bronze gates of Markarth. Cyldris was about to approach the stoned steps, but Ondolemar grabbed his hand to stop him. He looked up at him companion.

"I do not wish to stay here," Ondolemar stated. "Too many people may recognize me."

Cyldris nodded, understanding. "I'll see if anyone sells camping gear and then we'll go straight to Karthwasten."

"Good idea. I'll wait here." He released him.

The Bosmer entered the city of stone. It was such a unique and fascinating city. Like everyone else, it made him wonder what the Dwarves' technology was like, but he didn't dwell on it too much. He preferred trees and grass over stone. He went straight to the shop and to his luck, they did sell camping gear. He bought two bed rolls, but they didn't have a horse to help carry a tent. He returned to his waiting friend, handing him a bedroll. "A horse would help with a tent, but I'm sure we can find shelter under the trees if needed."

Ondolemar took a bed roll and strapped it on top of his own knapsack. "I was wondering if you travel so much, why don't you have a horse?"

"Oh, uh, I had to leave Theo in Whiterun due to my arrest. She could have been sold by now for all I know." He really missed that horse. He did buy her when he first arrived to the land several years ago and they traveled all over the land together.

"Ah. I'm sorry." He looked at the stable, pulled out his coin purse from a pouch on his hip and felt the weight of it. "I may have enough to buy a horse, but I'll think about it on our way back."

"If you buy a horse, I will buy the tent. Ready?"

"Yes. Let's find out who this Kinthal is."

They began to head north, following the river. Aware that they were entering Forsworn territory, they kept their guard up. To their relief, the main road towards the mining settlement was clear. Going up the hill by Karthwasen, Cyldris inhaled, preparing for whatever they may face. He gestured to Ondolemar to lay low while he removed his pack and stashed it by rocks, then went climbing up the rocky hill. The Bosmer pulled out his bow and removed an arrow from his quiver at his hip. Aiming, he shot a woman in the head– killing her instantly. It didn't take long for the skilled archer to take out an entire camp, only leaving a frightened leader. Pleased with his work, Cyldris holstered his bow, hopped down the rocks, and stood before Kinthal.

"Impressive," Ondolemar called, joining his side.

"Thank you." He didn't take his eyes off the leader, who was wielding a golden greatsword with the same helmet that the Dunmer assassin was wearing. "Kinthal, I assume?"

"Y-You're the Unbeliever?" Kinthal, a large Redguard dressed in furs stammered; eyes wide in terror. "You killed all my men!"

he ignored his last stated. "What do you mean? Who are you and why are you trying to kill me?" He pulled out the golden axe from his hip. "And what material are these made from?"

Kinthal barked a laugh, then beginning to truly laugh. "Such nonsense! He acts as if he doesn't know!"

"I don't!" He pleaded.

"Mania calls, you simpleton! And you will listen!" He charged towards the Bosmer, who drew both axes and swiftly stepped out of the way.

Cyldris didn't mind going against large weapons because they were slow and he was quick. With Kinthal's back to him, he quickly buried both axes into the back of the man, sending him down to his knees, then on the ground– dead. He stood up, wiped the blood off his axes on the Redgaurd's furs, and holstered his weapons. "Mania? This keeps getting stranger and stranger…." He turned to the back of the camp where a stone shrine stood. He approached it, finding a stone bust of a man. "Sheogorath?"

Ondolemar joined him. "Yes. I've studied Daedra for the Thalmor."

There was a red, leather-bound journal sitting on the shrine along with soul gems and food. He opened it. "It's Kinthal's."

"What does it say?"

"Um…." He flipped to the entry from two days ago. "'The Mad God gave me a vision. A vision of the Unbeliever walking with a Thalmor. The Mad God blesses him and he ignores the calls. We must kill him before the Seducers do! Svarig thinks he will have the Unbeliever's head? Ha! I laugh at that lie. Death shall be the Unbeliever's punishment….'" Cyldris looked at Ondolemar. "What does this mean? Unbeliever? Why am I an unbeliever?"

"Sounds like Sheogorath gave him a vision about us, too."

"But how? Why?" His voice was getting more shriller with each question out of frustration. "I don't understand! And who is Svarig and the Seducers?"

His companion held out a hand. "May I?"

Cyldris gave him the journal, walking away to breathe. His head was spinning. Sheogorath. Mania– too many names and none were making any sense to him! What does Sheogorath what with him, anyway? He was a devout follower to Auri-El!

"Cyldris."

He returned to his companion.

"'Outside of the Forsaken Cave is where Svarig is held up. Four of my Saints have tried to kill them and all but one ended up dead. He cannot find the Unbeliever before me.' This was written the four days ago." He looked at him.

Cyldris racked his brain. "Forsaken Cave. Any idea where that is?" Despite traveling for several years in Skyrim, he still had yet to learn every cave and ruined keep across the land.

Ondolemar hummed, then shook his head. "No. I do not." He closed the journal.

"Dammit," he hissed, looking away.

"Perhaps, they will find us like these Saints did?"

Cyldris folded his arms, pondering. He did not like the idea of risking another assassination.

"Let's go back to Markarth, get a room, and think about our next move from there." Ondolemar held out the journal. "You may want to keep this."

"Yes. Of course." He took the journal and walked back to his knapsack with Ondolemar at his side.

"Cyldris?"

"Yes?"

"This may be a ridiculous question, but are you alright?"

He stashed the journal in the pack and threw it over his back. "Just…Why me? I am so confused. I have more questions than before."

Ondolemar placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "I understand. You will not be doing this alone."

He turned to him. "But your debt–"

He smiled. "Debt? You truly think I stayed because of the debt? Yes, I did already save your life, but I want to join you because I want to. I've been trying to tell you that."

Cyldris was puzzled. "Thank you."

"Of course. Ready?"

"Yes. I wish to leave this place."

They walked down the steep slope back down to the road.

"You're a skilled hunter," Ondolemar commented.

Cyldris smirked. "I don't want to boast, but I am skilled at the hunt, yes."

"You shot them all without being seen. The only reason they noticed someone was around was because bodies kept dropping." He chuckled. "I am glad we're on the same side."

"Me too." He smiled up at the former Thalmor. Despite their previous conversation about possible betrayal, he did enjoy the Altmer's company. "Thank you for being here with me. I am glad I am not doing this alone."

"Of course," Ondolemar kindly replied.

Despite Ondolemar's hesitation of being in the city, they rented two rooms at the Silver-Blood Inn in Markarth. Ondolemar tried his best not to be recognized, but that was easier said than done. The innkeeper commented who he was, then the Altmer quickly retired to his room, leaving Cyldris to mingle with some of the other patrons. He also managed to get a rough location for Forsaken Cave from an off-duty guard, but unfortunately it was somewhere in Winterhold. After dinner, he retired to his room and began reading more from the journal. None of it made sense because it was just ramblings of a borderline madman obsessed with Sheogorath and Mania until he started talking about the Unbeliever. It sounded like the Unbeliever was almost like a prophecy or warning of some sort. It didn't make sense in these writings. Half the things didn't make sense in this journal….

So! The voice of Auri-El boomed in his mind. The Unbeliever found the journal and yet still nothing? Not even an inkling of an idea? How sad!

Auri-El, Cyldris sighed. I don't understand. What does any of this mean?

The god laughed. Oh, where's the fun in tellin' ya that, little mortal?

Please! I don't want to be associated to a Daedra! Only to You!

…You really don't know yet. His voice dropped a tone. How sad indeed…. Dear, sweet Cyldris. You will learn. They always do…. Now, go to sleep! His voice perked up. You have quite the adventure ahead of yourself! Ha-ha! Good night!

The Bosmer jolted awake, finding that he had fallen asleep at the desk over the open jounral. Sighing, he got out of his clothes, blew out the candles, then went to bed.