In this chapter, unspoken tensions are resolved between Bjorn and the people in his life, as he says his goodbyes and prepares to meet his daughter. However, as he enters Cyrodiil, his past catches up with him in an unexpected and dangerous way, forcing him to confront the consequences of his actions.

In the aftermath of the battle, Amirah saw that Azzan had fallen and rushed to his side. He was mortally wounded, much like in High Rock not long ago—but this time, the magic wasn't healing him

"Azzan, come on, you can't be dying, you're immortal!"

Azzan smiled, coughing up blood a bit before he spoke again. Despite the situation, there was a contentment in his eyes she had never seen in him before. "The spell only kept me immortal as long as I forgot who my dear Lyariel was. Now that I remember her love, I am mortal again."

Amirah was speechless, and could only respond with tears that flowed down her cheeks like a waterfall.

"Don't worry, my child," his voice was tender and reassuring, "It had to end someday."

"You can't leave me now! There's still so much you need to teach me!" Amirah pleaded, " You have knowledge long lost to our people, how will I recover it now?"

Azzan's smile widened, gazing at her as if she were a newborn baby girl, "The knowledge of the Way of the Sword is scattered throughout Tamriel. I trust that your heart will guide you to find it."

"You can't know that Azzan." She shook him gently and then looked around. "Karim, we need to heal him! Let's see if we can go to Aunt Mahsa."

"Of course, sister," he said enthusiastically as he rushed over to them.

"No," Azzan said emphatically yet with a hint of softness, "it's my time. I see my Lyariel now, as beautiful as ever. We are finally together again."

Just as Karim prepared to cast the teleportation spell, the life left Azzan's eyes—yet his smile remained.

"No! No!" those were the only words that came out as Amirah shook him and pleaded desperately.

"I'm sorry, Amirah," Karim said, his tears mingling with hers as he knelt to examine her fallen mentor. "He's gone."

Slow, shuffling footsteps were heard, Amirah turned her head and saw Bjorn with his arm around Margaret, who had a deep cut in her abdomen. A rage she couldn't fully understand started building up inside of her, and she spat on the ground as she looked at them. Margaret, with the little strength she had left, shook her head back at her and rolled her eyes.

Bjorn, not noticing Amirah's hostile gesture, turned to Karim. "We need to get her to Mahsa's healing temple. We don't have much time. Can you teleport us?"

Before Karim could respond Amirah cut in with venom in her voice, "No! Let her die!"

"How could you say that?" Cordelia asked, shocked by such a harsh statement. Not knowing the full context of their history, she added, "What's wrong with you?"

Jamal placed a hand on Cordelia's shoulder. "Babe, just let my sis rant. Don't get involved."

"Amirah, I know you're upset," Bjorn said softly, "But this isn't the time for this."

"Oh, shut up, Bjorn!" Amirah's voice was harsher than it had ever been before, catching him off guard. The group looked at her, slightly frightened, as if a beast within her had awoken. "You should be dead too. Both of you should be lying here on the ground."

Bjorn was profoundly hurt by her statement; he couldn't even respond. On some level, he agreed, which made him despise her words even more.

"That's unnecessary, Amirah," Karim defended him. "Whatever you think of Bjorn now, he's still my friend! If Margaret is important to him, she's important to me too. Besides, whatever she did in her past, she fought alongside us as a sister in the end."

"Whatever her past?" Amirah's tone grew even harsher, Karim stepped back a few inches in fear as she walked toward him, "Is that how things work in this sick, fucked up world? Hurt people, destroy their lives, but as long as you feel bad about it and change, all is forgiven right?"

"Amirah, please," Karim hesitantly tried to calm his sister, yet he didn't want to push her buttons any further.

"No! Enough of this! I'm done with this!" Amirah paced about and gesticulated with her hands. Hela glared at her, her hands ready to reach for her crossbow, preparing herself if Amirah decided to take things a step too far.

"My mother," Amirah took a deep breath before continuing, "our mother, Karim, was a kind soul. Despite having every reason to feel anger toward the Thalmor and others who wronged her, she showed nothing but compassion and empathy until the end. And what did she get? Death."

"Life isn't always fair, " Margaret barely managed to say, her condition worsening, "took you long enough to realize that, but better late than never, silly girl. "

"No, you're right" Amirah stepped closer to Margaret, eyeing her with a piercing stare, "it isn't fair. If it were fair, your son would be alive and you would be dead."

"Hey, you leave him out of this," her hand slowly reached for her dagger, "I may be on my last limb, but I'll still cut that tongue out of your pretty little mouth if you don't watch it, Redguard."

"But you didn't leave him out of it, did you?" Amirah smirked, she knew just what to say to her under her skin, "As much as you tried to play the role of a protective mother, your carelessness and your violent, honor-less lifestyle continued to endanger him. You could have given him up for adoption or changed your ways, but no, you kept on your path and he paid the price in the end,"

Margaret looked down at her feet, those words cut deeper than the dagger that wounded her. She had nothing to say in response.

"You know, I often thought I'd kill you myself," Amirah admitted proudly, "Bjorn seemed to forget the role you played in his parent's death but I haven't. They were a second family to me. It's a shame they didn't live and adopt your son, give him a better life. Bjorn should have killed you, but he decided to bed you instead. "

"Hey, Amirah, that's not how it went," Bjorn cut in defensively. "You're misrepresenting what happened, and you know it."

"But now I see that you're already defeated, " Amirah ignored him and lightly lifted Margaret's chin with her hand to force her to look at her, "You're nothing but a shell of who you once were."

Amirah then turned to Bjorn. It was his turn now.

"You, Bjorn," she pointed her finger at him accusingly, he looked back at her, forcing himself to maintain eye contact and keep his head up, "you are nothing but a disgrace to your parents and everything they stood for. The world is poorer with you and your wretched sister in it instead of them. They deserved better than the children they got."

Amirah paused suddenly and noticed a dagger was pointed at her throat. It was Hela.

"One more word out of you," her tone was eerily cold and calculated, "and it'll be your last!"

"Stand down, Hela," Bjorn commanded with authority.

"But she just insulted us, brother! "

"I said stand down!" He raised his voice intensely, and drew his sword, ready to fight his own sister if he had to.

Hela sighed and put her dagger away, "Fine, brother. But only out of respect for you, not for her."

"I didn't need you to protect me, " Amirah said spitefully.

"You didn't, but I wanted to anyway."

"Listen, Princess," Hela was patronizing towards Amirah, "You think you're the only one who lost someone in this battle? Look around you, at this city. Look at all the destruction. Sure it can be rebuilt but so many lives are already lost. I lost my dear Narissa too, so sod off with your moralizing."

"Oh like you ever gave a shit about her anyway!" Amirah spat back at her, "She was just another tool to satisfy your needs until you had no more use for her."

"I'm trying damn hard to practice self-control here, brother," Hela seethed, her fists clenched. "If it weren't for you, I'd be going blade to blade with her right now."

"Oh, I'd be happy to oblige, bitch!" Amirah unsheathed her sword and pointed it at Hela. "I'm not scared of you! Take your best shot!"

At that moment, Jamal stepped in, his usual carefree, drunken self replaced by a more serious, protective demeanor.

"No!" he said firmly, turning to Amirah. "I'm not gonna let you do this!"

He then turned to Hela. "And you—if anyone wants to fight my little sister, they'll have to get through me first!"

"Please, listen to him!" Bjorn pleaded. "Whatever you all think of each other—whatever you think of me for that matter—I care about each of you. I don't want any of you killing each other."

Karim looked at Margaret's condition and saw she was getting worse. "We have to go now, Bjorn, if we don't she won't make it."

"You take her," Bjorn said as he gently pushed her into Karim's arms, "I want to make sure this doesn't escalate any further."

"No, Bjorn," Margaret said slowly, "She was right. I deserve to die for the things I've done, for what I did to your parents, and for failing my son."

"The woman who did those things is already dead," he stroked her face affectionately, "you are someone new, someone better."

Margaret chuckled, spitting up blood, "Would you have said this to Zalam-dar? To Wulfmir? Are you really this easily swayed by a pretty face?"

Bjorn was caught off guard but then composed himself. "It's not about that, you know it. I've seen the good in you, who you're capable of being. If you die now, it won't undo what you've done, but if you keep living, you can bring more light into this world, and do more good to make up for it. I know you will."

"Bjorn, there's no time, I'm taking her now," Karim said with urgency. Bjorn nodded and glanced at Margaret, her life hanging in the balance. His chest tightened.

For a moment, his heart ached as he thought about everything that had happened. The woman he once loathed and thought was beyond redemption, the woman who had caused him so much pain—now, she was someone he couldn't abandon.
Despite his conflicted feelings, Bjorn kissed Margaret gently on the lips, his mouth lingering for a moment longer than he intended. She was still alive. There was hope.

Karim, impatient and worried, grabbed her, and before Bjorn could say anything more, the two of them were gone—teleporting to Mahsa's healing temple to get her healed.

There was a long, awkward silence after they left until Grishnakh, who had been silently observing everything this whole time, finally spoke.

"Damn, I think I'm just gonna go have a pint somewhere," he said bluntly. "I came here for a good fight, and I already had that. I'm not interested in drama or all this existential, philosophical bullshit."

The others exchanged confused glances before a chuckle escaped from Jamal, and soon enough, the tension in the air was partially released.

"Yeah, I think we could all use a break from this," Jamal added, trying to stifle a laugh.

"You guys have fun," Cordelia kissed Jamal on the lips.

"You're not coming with us, babe?" Jamal was disappointed.

"I would, my dear, but I have business with the Synod in the morning," she checked her handbag, making sure she had everything she needed, then looked back up at him. "You're still taking me to dinner tomorrow, though, right?"

"Of course," Jamal looked at her with loving eyes, "I wouldn't miss it for the world, babe."

They kissed again, and then she pointed an accusing finger at him, "And you better not drink too much tonight! I already smell the whiskey on your breath. You said you were going to watch it with that."

"Yes, of course," Jamal said hesitantly, "I'll behave."

"Good boy," she patted him playfully before giving him another kiss.

She then walked over to Bjorn and hugged him, holding him a bit longer than anticipated.

"Take care, Bjorn," she said softly. "It was nice seeing you again." Jamal and Bjorn exchanged awkward glances before Cordelia went on her way.

Jamal then turned to Amirah. "Come on, sis, let's get you out of here before you get yourself into more trouble."

"Fine," Amirah agreed hesitantly, then turned to Bjorn. "As long as he's not joining, or his sister."

"I'll join Grishnakh for a drink no matter what you have to say about it," Bjorn replied, his voice sharp. "You don't like it, go to a different tavern."

It was the first time Bjorn had shown any anger toward her, though deep down, it was mainly directed at himself. Amirah was taken aback.

Grishnakh didn't wait for any more commentary. He turned on his heel, muttering under his breath as he walked toward the nearest tavern, clearly looking forward to the simplicity of a cold drink and a break from the drama.

Amirah reflected for a moment, took a breath, calmed herself, and closed her eyes for a bit before speaking. "Bjorn, I'm sorry. I had just lost my mentor. The things I said, it was in the heat of the moment, I—"

"Yeah, but you said them," Bjorn shot back at her. "I see now where we stand. There's nothing left to say."

"Come on," Jamal patted Bjorn on the back to calm him down, then put his arm around both him and Amirah, starting to follow Grishnakh from a distance. "You kids grew up together. You shouldn't be fighting like this. You both have been through a lot. We just saved a city, and all of Tamriel, from a dangerous death cult. Let's just put our differences aside and have some pints together."

Bjorn looked back at his sister Hela, who was lingering behind. "You coming with us, sis?"

"No, brother. You go on ahead. I've got some things to take care of." She pulled the hood of her black leather armor over her head. "But you are my blood. We will be in touch."

The group moved on. Amirah chuckled a bit then spoke dryly, "Things to take care of? I only wonder what kind of business a vampire murderer like her would have to take care of."

"Vampire?" Bjorn tried to appear confused, but Amirah wasn't buying it.

"Come on Bjorn, even you aren't that naive," her usual sassiness from before her recent outburst now returning, "The pale skin? The orange eyes? The way she avoids the sunlight? "

"I don't know her full story yet since we've been a part," Bjorn said honestly, "but whatever she is, whatever she's done, she's the only family I have left. You understand what that means don't you?"

"Yes, Bjorn, I…" Amirah inhaled deeply as if this was difficult for her to say. "I'm sorry for the things I said to you. I know you won't believe me, but I truly didn't mean them."

"No, Amirah," Bjorn looked down at his feet. "You were right with everything you said."

"No, Bjorn, that's not true. I—"

"Amirah," Bjorn cut her off, his voice soft but firm, "the way I've acted hasn't been right. I never once asked you how you felt—how anything affected you. My parents' death, you thinking I was dead all those years… All I cared about was myself, my revenge, and my ego."

Amirah's eyes widened, genuinely moved by what he said. She never expected that level of self-awareness from him or that he'd ever speak those words to her. She looked into his icy blue eyes, and her heart felt a warmth she hadn't felt since they first fell in love. Amirah wanted to kiss him but knew it wouldn't be right to. They couldn't go back to what they were, not with everything that happened. She quickly composed herself before she spoke.

"Thank you, Bjorn. That means a lot, " that was all she could say, but it was enough. Bjorn smiled and nodded.

A pause followed, as they both glanced at the moon and took in the cool night air. They were moving away from the harsh warm sands near Sentinel and getting closer to the Dragontail mountains now. Grishnakh decided to walk all the way to the Caravan Company Depot in Dragonstar, rather than find an inn closer by. Perhaps he was feeling nostalgic. Jamal had been walking a bit further ahead from Bjorn and Amirah, chatting with Grishnakh about fights they'd been in. He figured Amirah and Bjorn needed space to talk things out, and he wanted to give them that privacy.

"You're not a disgrace to your parents, Bjorn," Amirah finally broke the silence. "It was wrong of me to say that. You've made mistakes, you haven't been perfect, but you've been through a lot. It's not my job to tell you how you should or shouldn't grieve your parents, or Kurdan, or anyone else you've lost."

Bjorn nodded stoically, trying very hard to hide any tears that might make their way out.

"You are a good man Bjorn. But sometimes good people lose their way, sometimes they hurt others unintentionally," Amirah continued, "But you want to be better, you are trying to be better. "
"I think you give me too much credit," Bjorn chuckled, "but thanks, Rah-Rah."

Amirah smiled warmly hearing that nickname again. It had only been several weeks since he last called her that, but it felt like a lifetime.

"You know, sometimes flaws build character. Sometimes the darkness is what leads us to the light," Amirah struggled to speak, tears slowly streaming down her cheeks. "That's what my mother was for my father. A light that guided him out of the darkness. He was a gambler, a drunkard, a pit fighter. He was a lost soul, but my mother saw the potential in him. And because of her, he became the hero of Hammerfell he's renowned as today."

Bjorn smiled. "Redguard women have that power, don't they? I know we've had our ups and downs, but you've always been a light in my life."

Amirah looked away awkwardly and hesitated before she spoke. "Bjorn, whatever you're thinking, we can't be what we were. Too much has changed. We're different people now. I'll always be there for you when you need me, but not like it was before."

"I know. I wasn't saying otherwise." Bjorn maintained his smile despite her words. "And I'll always be there for you too. You can count on that."

They walked in silence for a moment, the crunch of dirt beneath their boots the only sound.

Then Bjorn spoke again.

"You know… my parents told me you'd be the one to keep me in check. To look out for me."

Amirah's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"That day when you rescued me from those giant spiders… the ghosts of my parents visited me.."

Amirah froze mid-step, in shock from what he said, then quickly matched his pace again.

"Yeah," Bjorn chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. "They told me I'd be part of some great destiny, something that would impact all of Tamriel or something." He shrugged.

Amirah's gaze didn't leave him. "And… what else did they say?"

Bjorn's smile faded as a tear slipped down his cheek. He couldn't hold it back anymore.

"They said you'd be there for me, help sway me from the darkness, and guide me towards the light. They said you'd make sure I never lose myself."

Bjorn turned his face away, hoping Amirah wouldn't notice his tears.

But she did.

Without a word, Amirah slowed her steps, reached out, and gently grabbed his arm. Bjorn stopped, surprised, and before he could react, she pulled him into a deep, quiet embrace.

She was crying too.

After a long journey, they finally made it to the tavern. The warmth of the fire and the bustle of the lively crowd greeted them as they stepped inside.

The night at the tavern was laid back yet cheerful. Jamal and Grishnakh mostly talked amongst themselves, growing louder with every drink as they boasted about their battles with giants and other large creatures, each trying to outdo the other with their stories.

Amirah and Bjorn sat at the far end of the bar, speaking softly among themselves. Bjorn noticed she was quieter than usual, her mind seeming to drift into contemplation.
"Everything alright, Rah-Rah?"

"Not exactly," Amirah was honest, "Something has been weighing heavy on me, recently. If I tell you though, I want you to promise you won't judge."

Bjorn chuckled and a wry smile formed on his face, "I'm certainly in no place to judge you, go ahead."

"About a week or so ago I-" Amirah took a deep breath and hesitated before continuing. "I accidentally killed an innocent. It was collateral damage. Azzan and I were rescuing some hostages from bandits, and in the chaos, I lost control. My blade stabbed this innocent Breton girl, and she died."

"Hey." Bjorn put his hand on her to comfort her. "Amirah, I know you'd never do anything like that on purpose. Sometimes, no matter how good our intentions are, things go wrong."

"The point is, Bjorn," Amirah went on, "I've been judgmental of you, but l ask myself if I were forced into similar situations, would I have done the same? Would I have caused harm, hurt people...?"

"I don't know, I think you've got a better head on your shoulders than me."

"Do I?" Amirah challenged his statement, "When I killed Carman Dorrell earlier, it was in combat, self-defense. I was repulsed by her, but what if she could have changed too? Did I destroy her chance for redemption?"

"We all choose our paths," Bjorn asserted, "Sure, maybe she could have redeemed herself. But she made her choices. Sometimes we learn lessons ourselves, sometimes we become a lesson for others. Either way, she was trying to kill you and I'd rather it'd be her than you."

"You know, maybe…" Amirah began, but what she was about to say was difficult for her to admit, "Maybe you're right about Margaret. Maybe you two can have something good together."

"Well, I don't know about that," Bjorn avoided eye contact for a second, taking a big gulp of his drink. "It's complicated. Every time I see a young lad, I think of her son, who he could've been if my carelessness hadn't gotten him killed. And I still remember what she did to my father that day. We may feel remorse for our pasts, and we may strive to do better, but the past is never fully erased. I'm not sure we can help each other move on when we're constant reminders of what we've done, who we were."

"I understand," Amirah said softly. "You know, I think at first I was just really hurt seeing you with her. I felt like you were excusing or forgiving what she did and like you were betraying your parents… betraying me too. Our lives were never the same after what happened to your parents. You know that, Bjorn."

Bjorn nodded awkwardly, looking away as he took bigger gulps of his drink.

"But now I see that wasn't it," Amirah admitted. "You weren't excusing what she did. You saw who she could be, beyond her past. You saw she could be someone better, and she saw that in you too."

An awkward silence followed as Amirah looked at Bjorn, awaiting a response. When he said nothing in return, she spoke again. "Maybe Margaret is just like you or me—not born bad, but forced into situations where she made the wrong choices. I mean, she was a bounty hunter at one point, right? Seen as a hero by many—'Hagraven the Fearless,' they called her. Maybe that light in her has always been there. She just needed you to bring it out."

"She told me she also saved some innocents from the Forsworn," Bjorn added.

Amirah raised an eyebrow as she finished her glass of wine. Her curiosity was piqued.

"She turned on them while she was with them." Bjorn chugged the rest of his mead, then motioned for the bartender to bring them both another round. "Then, of course, Zalam-dar found her afterward, and she was back on a dark path again."

As the evening came to a close, Jamal walked over to Bjorn, drunkenly. "Hey ummm…Bjorn about Cordelia. I had no idea you guys were ever together when we started dating until Amirah pointed it out to me."

"Don't worry about it big guy, " Bjorn chuckled, "I had my shot with her, it wasn't the right time. I'm happy for both of you."

"Thanks, man, hey by the way, you won't tell her I'm drinking too much tonight will you?:" Jamal was concerned.

"Of course not, you'll see her before I do anyway," Bjorn then smiled "I think it'd be hard to hide your hangover though. Might want to take a cold shower before you take her to dinner tomorrow."

"Noted," Jamal was barely maintaining his balance, then wrapped his arm around Amirah and Bjorn, "Great to see you guys getting along again. I'm gonna head out of here, it's been fun."
Grishnakh said his goodbyes too, and then left the tavern with Jamal.

"I should probably head out too," Amirah said, "I'm glad we were able to talk about everything though."

"Yeah me too."

"Listen," Amirah took a deep breath before she continued, and handed him a slip of paper, "This is the address for Tava's family in Cyrodil. I'm not going to keep you from meeting your daughter. You deserve to see her."

"Maybe we could both go together," Bjorn suggested.
"I don't think that's a good idea, Bjorn. I hope you don't take this the wrong way, but I need some space from you, to process everything that's happened. Plus I have my own journey to go on, recovering the history of the Sword-Singers."

"I understand," said Bjorn, failing to hide the disappointment in his voice. He then reached into his travel backpack he was carrying and pulled out an enchanted orcish dagger, "By the way, I've been meaning to give this to you."

Amirah examined it curiously as he handed it to her, "You crafted this?"

"Yeah," Bjorn nodded proudly, "When I moved to the stronghold, I kept smithing with the wise woman, so I never lost my skills. I made this a few years ago, hoping I'd give it to you whenever we reconnected, I just couldn't find the right time to give it to you till now."

"Thanks, Bjorn I appreciate it."

"I know you do well with your scimitars, but you also usually carry that extra hidden dagger with you as well. This one is enchanted so it will temporarily paralyze your opponent, and could get you out of a tricky situation."

"Thanks, Bjorn, that's very thoughtful of you." she placed the dagger in a holster hidden near her ankle.

"Don't mention it," Bjorn said softly, then grinned at her, "Consider it my way of having your back, even when we're apart."

Amirah felt moved by that statement. She looked into his icy blue eyes, and her heart skipped a beat. Suddenly, she forgot about everything that had happened and the differences between them. It was as if all of that was a dream, and they were together again before anything tore them apart.

Without thinking, she grabbed Bjorn and kissed him passionately. Bjorn was receptive and stroked her hair with his fingers as they kissed. She pushed him up against a wall and caressed him intensely, their mouths barely taking a break from touching. She was almost ready to take things to a more private setting when she caught herself and stopped suddenly. Bjorn looked up at her, his eyes widened, pleasantly surprised at what they had done, yet wondering what had just happened.

"Bjorn, I'm sorry, we shouldn't have... we've been drinking, and," she flipped her hair back nervously, "sometimes things just happen."

"They most certainly do," Bjorn said with a hint of playfulness, smiling slightly.

"I better go, it's late," Amirah said, starting to rush out nervously. She hugged Bjorn quickly, left a tip for the bartender, and began walking toward the door before she turned around. "Bjorn, one more thing."

"I'm all ears," Bjorn said, slightly amused.

"If you decide to go to Skyrim, to 'finish what you started,' as you said, and go after Elenwen and the others—just be careful, okay?"

Bjorn nodded, then went to order another drink as she left. He sat there, nursing his ale in quiet contemplation. What had just happened between him and Amirah? He still loved her—she was the woman of his heart. In that moment, he'd felt so connected to her. Yet, earlier, he'd kissed Margaret, and that had felt real too. His feelings for her weren't any less authentic—just different. Both women had a place in his heart but for different reasons. And for different reasons, it couldn't be with either.

The next day, Bjorn stopped by Mahsa's healing temple to check on Margaret. She was doing much better, her injury completely healed. He found her sitting on the hammock, petting Mahsa's pet monkey, Babur, who was resting on her lap. She looked up at Bjorn and smiled.

"Mahsa better be careful; I might just take him with me," she quipped.

"Not sure he'd want to leave," Bjorn said, petting the monkey on the head. "He's a stubborn little fellow. Seems comfortable where he is."

Margaret smiled at his words, and then Bjorn added, "Seems you're doing better."

"I am, better than ever actually," she said sincerely. "Mahsa knows what she's doing."

"She certainly does."

There was a pause, and then Margaret spoke again. "Look, Bjorn, we both know what we had can't continue. There's just too much history-"

"I know," Bjorn cut her off. "Just wanted to make sure you were ok before I head to Cyrodiil. Going to meet my daughter for the first time."

Margaret's eyes lit up. "Well, that's intriguing." Her expression became somber as she thought of her lost son, but to avoid making things awkward, she changed the subject. "Bjorn, I wanted to tell you. Yesterday, when I was almost dying, I was visited by Lady Mara."

"Oh yeah?" Bjorn's interest was piqued, though he was skeptical at the same time.

Margaret nodded. "I believe it was her love that saved me, and now I think I've found my calling."

Bjorn waited patiently for her to continue.

"I'm going to become a priestess of Mara. Devote my life to spreading her word and helping people. It's the best way to atone for...everything I've done."

"I'm happy for you. I think that'll be good for you."

"I think I might go to Riften, in Skyrim. They have a temple there. That area has a lot of lost souls, like I once was, who need my help. Thinking about maybe staying there and also visiting Bravil in Cyrodiil too, see what I can do to help there as well."

Bjorn said his goodbyes to Margaret, offering his well-wishes for her new path. As he left the temple, his mind swirled with thoughts of his daughter and the journey ahead. With a final glance back, he made his way toward Cyrodiil, ready to meet the new chapter in his life.

When Bjorn crossed the border into the heart of the Empire, he took in the beauty of the landscapes. It was a mixture of rugged terrain and settled farmland. He breathed in the air, ready for what awaited him.

As he ventured further into Cyrodiil, his journey took an unexpected turn. The clinking of armor and the sound of footsteps behind him grew louder, and before he knew it, the Imperial Guards had surrounded him.

"Stop right there, criminal scum!" one of the guards called out, drawing his sword and stepping forward.

Bjorn froze, his hand instinctively reaching for the hilt of his weapon. The guard's voice cut through the tension in the air.

"Nobody breaks the law on my watch," the guard added. "I'm confiscating your stolen goods! Now pay your fine or it's off to jail!"

Bjorn looked confused. "I don't have any stolen goods, Imperial."

"Well, we'll just have to see about that, won't we?" the guard taunted him. "Now pay your fine or do your time!"

Bjorn considered his options for a moment before letting out a resigned sigh. He dropped his hand from his sword.

"Okay, I surrender," Bjorn said, his voice steady but with a hint of frustration.

The guard's smirk widened. "That's too bad. I was hoping you'd resist arrest."

"What am I under arrest for?" Bjorn asked, trying to make sense of the situation.

The guard's tone shifted, becoming more serious. "For the murder of Louis Motierre."

Bjorn's eyes widened as the weight of the accusation hit him. The road ahead was now unclear, and he knew his past had finally caught up with him.
With a heavy heart, Bjorn resigned himself to the consequences of his actions. "Guess I'll do my time then."