South of Whiterun, in the small nordic village of Riverwood, the Sleeping Giant Inn is quiet as usual.

The clinks of ale filled mugs, the brush of the innkeeper's broom against the stone, and the occasional hearty laughter of patrons is about the most excitement the inn receives by the day.

To Orgnar, the seldom changes to the dreary atmosphere is fine. Life may drift by slowly, but at least it isn't ending quickly.

Still, when a few new faces arrive at the inn, he can't help but hope for some added exhilaration.

Gerruck: Alright, you got us here. Now can you tell us what all this is about?

Following their encounter with Olivia in the Riverwood Trader, Gerruck and Elyvaea had been pestered by the woman throughout the day. Her urgent ramblings about destiny and dragons blared in their ears until they finally gave in and agreed to talk. Insisting they discuss somewhere private, Olivia rented a room at the inn solely for her purposes.

Gerruck: What do you mean I'm dragonborn?

Olivia is quiet for a moment before starting; the one time she hadn't been speaking all day.

Olivia: I mean exactly what I say. The blood of Akatosh, the blood of Dragons, runs in your veins.

Olivia: Just like Tiber Septim before you, you have been chosen by the divines to carry out their will.

Gerruck makes no effort to respond. This is the same nonsense he'd been hearing from her all day. No explanation or details, just an adamant belief the woman insists is true.

Elyvaea: Look Lady, you can't just spew your ideologies at us and expect us to believe it. I mean... Dragonborn? There aren't even Dragons around anymore.

As soon as Elyvaea speaks up, Olivia takes a deep breath, blatantly displaying her taken offense.

Olivia: Do not address me so disrespectfully, heathen. I am a high priestess of the Nine Divines and hold more power and reputation in Tamriel than a commoner like you could dream of.

Elyvaea: What did you just call me?

Olivia: A heathen. After all, it is your foolish race that so stubbornly clings to a disbelief in Talos that you'd result to the persecution of an entire province.

Elyvaea glares at Olivia. Keeping her composure is something she has always prided herself on, however this woman was already bending her close to snapping.

Elyvaea: You don't even know me. Do I look like a thalmor to you?

Olivia: No, you look like a-

Gerruck: Knock it off! Both of you.

Immediately, the two of them cease their bickering. They turn to Gerruck, Elyvaea in shock and Olivia bearing a forced complacency.

Elyvaea: Gerruck! Back me up here.

Gerruck: I'm not taking part in belligerent rabble. You two are gonna grab too much attention anyway. We'll talk outside. Lets go.

Swiftly turning on his heels, Gerruck strides from the room without a second glance. Watching him leave, the girls quickly follow after him, not wanting to spend another second in one another's company.

Outside, the snow had accumulated greatly in just the past day. Light snowfall began in the morning, and now signs of a coming blizzard were starting to show. The three march across the snow covered bridge, all but one of them unfazed by the biting wind and the touch of frigid ice pellets.

Elyvaea: Was coming outside really necessary, Gerruck?

Elyvaea: It is freezing!

Olivia: Hmmph, well what did you expect?

Gerruck: Stop instigating.

Exhausted by the two girl's bitter and immediate rivalry, Gerruck picks up the pace, eager to get this over with. Despite his impatience, he does want to hear what Olivia has to say; and though she has yet to lay out any real facts or information, Gerruck already believes her. He has yet to tell Elyvaea of the strange magic he encountered in Bleak Falls Barrow, in fear that she might think him crazy. Gerruck knows what he saw, knows what he experienced, if there is any truth to it maybe Olivia is the one to reveal it.

Gerruck: Okay Olivia, I'm here to listen so you better start talking. And no more bold claims, give me actual details.

Olivia: Of course, Dragonborn.

Olivia: You do understand that is what you are, yes?

Gerruck continues forward, stopping at the edge of the river. He does understand what he is; at least he thinks he does. He can't quite explain it, but his gut is telling him that Olivia is right, that he does have a destiny to fulfill. And yet, it seems so surreal. Dragonborn? The legend is known by every Nordic elder and child backwards and forwards. For him to be living that legend...

Gerruck: Yeah... I think I do.

Elyvaea: C-can we t-t-try to make this f-fast please?

Ignoring her, Olivia sits down and continues.

Olivia: As you know, I am a priestess of the nine. Though a Nord, I am from Cyrodil and traveled to Skyrim near a year ago.

Olivia: The divines themselves spoke to me. They informed me that their champion in the war to come would awaken, and I was to put you on the path.

Elyvaea: You s-sound ridiculous.

Olivia presses on, continuing to ignore Elyvaea.

Olivia: You, Gerruck, are that champion! It is your destiny to accomplish whatever task the divines have set for you.

Gerruck makes no immediate reply. Destiny... He has never liked that word. It makes it sound like he has no choice, no freewill.

Gerruck: Destiny, huh?

Gerruck: Tell me, Olivia, what is this destiny of mine? What task am I supposed to accomplish?

Olivia: To bring upon a new age, Gerruck.

Olivia: I cannot give you all the answers, but know this.

Olivia returns to her feet.

Olivia: Without you, Nirn will fall under daedric control. Already have the Lords begun to vie.

Olivia: You must become strong enough to fight them.

The wave of new information makes Gerruck want to reel. Fight daedra? Bring about the new world? What does it mean? And why can't she give him all the answers? Gerruck fights off the nausea making him sway. It is almost too much to take in. He has no reason to believe Olivia, but also no reason not to. And on the off chance that she is right...

Gerruck: And how am I supposed to do that?

Olivia: You must go to the only people capable of training you.

Gerruck: You don't mean...

Olivia: Yes, Gerruck. They already know you will be coming.

Olivia: It's time you meet with the Greybeards.

Castalia: That oaf sure was a bleeder.

Scrubbing off the still dripping blood from her sword, Castalia exits the Silverblood Inn. On the way out, she catches a few hesitant glances from the patrons inside, but by returning their looks with a glare she wis able to return their glances back to their drinks. She has grown used it. The life of an assassin is lonely enough; ironically, it is even lonelier for one so public as herself. The more attention she gets, the more people there are who avoid her. Even in her days back in Morrowind, training with the Morag Tong, Castalia can not remember having any friends. None of that matters to her either way, however. As long as she ensures everything goes according to plan, there won't be anyone around to be her friend anyway.

Castalia: That should do it.

Castalia: I'll have to give you a real cleaning after the next kill.

Castalia returns her blade to its place across her back. A soft breeze tickles her face as a stark white speckle, fluttering from above, catches her eye.

Castalia: Seems I'm running out of time...

Castalia: That priest better get here soon.

Castalia: I'll have to get rid of him fast.

Castalia: Time to set the trap.

Vigilant Tyranus shivers against the cold stone walls of Markarth, desperately trying to fend off the chill. He has been adamantly standing at this post for days, positive that someone has seen some sort of daedric activity. Yet all he ever receives is the same scripted response from passerby's, telling him the "house is abandoned" and "no one has ever entered it". But that won't be enough to sway him, oh no. He did not become a Vigilant of Stendarr to back away from danger because of a few misinformed Nords.

Vigilant Tyranus: I can't believe this...

Vigilant Tyranus: All the signs point to daedric activity. How can not one soul have noticed a thing?

Vigilant Tyranus: By Stendarr I'm about to march in there myself!

Castalia: Um, is everything okay?

Tyranus jumps back, startled to discover he wasn't alone and even more so to see a stunning dark elf standing perplexed before him.

Vigilant Tyranus: Oh, er, yes yes, I'm am fine.

Castalia: Sure about that? Most people I meet don't spend their time hollering at the sky.

Tyranus recomposes himself, putting on his most masculine facade for the woman in front of him.

Vigilant Tyranus: Ha, yes well, as a Vigilant of Stendarr I can talk with the God of Righteous Might directly. Which is what I was doing you see.

Castalia smiles smugly.

Castalia: Really? That's what you were doing?

Vigilant Tyranus: Well... no.

Vigilant Tyranus: I've been scouting out this house for the past week and have so far come up with nothing. I want to go inside and investigate, but without backup it'd surely be suicide. You wouldn't happen to know anything, would you?

Castalia smiles. This man is going to be easy to lie to.

Castalia: Hmmm, I think I saw an old man sneak inside one night. But that was weeks ago.

Tyranus is delighted at the news. This was the first lead he has gotten. If what she says is true, that man must be using the house for daedra worship.

Vigilant Tyranus: Sounds like a typical daedra worshiper to me. I wouldn't be surprised if he is hiding in there right now.

Castalia: Need a hand taking him out?

Castalia: I can be pretty good with a sword.

This must be Tyranus' day. First he meets a gorgeous dark elf, then he gets information that has eluded him for weeks, and now the elf is offering to help? Tyranus can't help but smile, perhaps Stendarr did hear his plea.

Vigilant Tyranus: By all means!

Vigilant Tyranus: Daedra worshipers are nasty business, I could use all the help I can get.

Castalia: I'm sure they can be quite the challenge to fight.

Tyranus nods in agreement. He turns to unlock the door, proceeding inside the house. The door finally unlocked, Castalia follows after him.

Castalia: And you're about to find out.

Talen is scared. He shivers more than when he fought the wispmother, clenches his jaw harder than when he met the Cult of Boethiah, and wants to hurl harder than when he was confronted by Ellia.

He can't explain it. Sure, being led into a den of vampires and seeing his companion knocked out cold is terrifying, but it shouldn't compare to what he's experienced so far.

Perhaps it isn't fear at all. He has spent the past five years of his life searching for his wife, trying to rescue her from the very group of vampires he now finds himself in. He is powerless to fight them, and even if he wasn't, apparently his wife is their leader. Would fighting them even be the right choice?

None of it makes sense. All Talen can do is pray Isabel really is here, and hope that she is the same woman he fell in love with.

Talen: What are you going to do with her?

Taeyva still has not woken. After she was knocked unconscious, she was hauled off by a couple of vampires before being tossed like a sack into a large, rusted cage.

One of the vampires that carried her, a large, burly male who was equally terrifying, slammed the cage door shut with a clang.

The vampire responds with a snarl, not even trying to feign her distaste with him.

Vampire: Nothing that concerns you, Talen.

Vampire: Besides, you should be focused on seeing your wife. After five years of searching, you care more about some girl you just met?

Talen: It's not that I-

Vampire: Just be quiet. I don't want your excuses.

Vampire: She's this way.

Talen stops following. He can not take another step. After five years, just like this? All he has to do is walk up one ramp?

Vampire: Don't make me drag you. Are you going in or not?

Talen gulps. He knows what he is feeling now. He is not scared by his surroundings, or worried for his safety. He is afraid of what comes next.

Talen: Yes... I am.

Isabel: No... that's not right.

Isabel: There has to be some way to do this.

Isabel: A little deathbell does go a long way, but...

Talen stands rigid at the doorway. He has never felt more on edge than he does now.

Talen: Isabel...

As her name rings, Isabel stares in disbelief, a stunned smile overtaking her expression.

Isabel: Talen...

As his name slips from Isabel's lips, Talen knows this is his wife. He did not know what to expect, but seeing her now, for the first time in years, none of that matters. The world seems to fall away. Everything he has experienced up to now disappears; leaving only the two of them.

Talen: It's me, babe.

Isabel tries to speak but only a soft squeak passes her lips.

Talen: Gods, have I missed you.

Isabel giggles despite the tears forming in her eyes. She pushes away from the alchemy table in glee, not even noticing the ingredients falling to the floor as she does.

Isabel: I can't believe it...

Talen: Believe it.

They run to one another, conjoining in a passionate embrace. As they touch and Talen wraps his arms around Isabel's waist, a long forgotten warmth envelops him like the rays of the sun. His previously hammering heart slows to a steady beat.

Talen: You're just as beautiful as I remember.

Isabel: Stop talking and kiss me

Without missing a beat, Talen presses his lips to hers...

Washing away the rest of the world.

Back in the cave, Taeyva groggily awakes. Her head pounds from the blow earlier, and she fears getting up too quickly will only knock her out again.

Taeyva: Ugh... my head.

Taeyva: Oh, you've gotta be kidding.

Taeyva: Hey, guard dog, where'd you take Talen?

The vampire does not reply, staring ignorantly ahead. With a huff, Taeyva slowly crawls into a sitting position; feeling dazed by the subtlest of movements.

Taeyva: So what? Not allowed to talk to me?

Taeyva: Alright, fine. When I get out I'll send my wolves out on you first.

With cautious ease, Taeyva gets to her feet, having to rest her arms on the cage bars to stop from falling back down.

Taeyva: And I don't mean little pups. I have werewolves at my beck and call. You're like a snack to them. A chew toy.

Before Taeyva can continue, the vampire from earlier calls down at the guard, interrupting the ignored threats.

Vampire: That's enough, Brutus. I'll take over from here.

Vampire: As you say.

Frustrated, Taeyva rolls her eyes. She can't call for help down here, and she is sure the vampires know it too. Still, they could at least give her the satisfaction.

Vampire: How does it feel being locked in a cage again? I'm sure you've grown quite fond of it since your last experience with the Vigil.

Vampire: Seems you still wear that souvenir they gave you as well. I suppose its better than your usual missing attire.

Taeyva: Wow, real impressive of you to say all that on the other side of the bars. Wanna step inside and say it to my face?

Vampire: Stop trying to sound tough. We both know you are not a fighter.

Vampire: Besides, after working so hard to set this trap up, why should I risk it? You're not going anywhere.

Taeyva: We'll see about that. Talen's talking to Isabel right now, yeah? He'll convince her to join the right side.

A smile stretches across the vampire's face.

Vampire: You cannot truly believe in that stammering buffoon.

Vampire: Isabel would never be swayed by him, even if they were once in love.

Taeyva: I wouldn't be so sure if I wer-

Vampire: Well I am. And you want to know why?

The vampire's confidence makes Taeyva uneasy. She forces herself not to gulp, but she knows her face already shows the trepidation taking hold.

Taeyva: No... This trap isn't for me, is it?

Vampire: That's right. We haven't been waiting for you. We've been waiting for Talen.

Talen has never felt more alive. Five years. Five years of feeling hopeless and lost, and it was all worth it. Despite being deep inside a cave full of vampires, he never felt more at home.

The warmth in his heart does not wane, even as his lips part from Isabel's. He stares in awe at the beautiful woman in front of him and can't stop his smile from growing. She really is beautiful. From her large, almost childlike eyes to the tiny flares in her nostrils, it is as if she has not aged a day. Talen stares into her now dark red eyes, and is reminded of why; but he doesn't care. Whatever she may be now, she will always be the same thing to him: the girl he loves.

Talen slides his hand into a pouch around his belt, pulling out a gold ring matching his.

Talen: I've held onto this for the past five years.

Talen: It's your wedding band. Remember how you smiled when I first gave it to you?

Isabel scratches her head, staring at the ring in silence.

Talen: What's the matter? I know it's been a long time, but that doesn't change anything. Really.

She averts her eyes from the ring, taking in a breath before turning back towards Talen.

Isabel: Oh, that's okay. We can get new rings. To, uh, celebrate our reunion!

Talen laughs.

Talen: Oh, don't be silly. What better way to celebrate than with how it all began?

Isabel: I can think of an even better way.

Talen: What do you mea-

Isabel cuts Talen off with a shove.

Talen: Ooof!

He hits the floor with a painful thud, dropping the ring in the process.

Talen: What are you doing?

Isabel begins to unlace the knots of her bodice, a devious smile crossing her lips.

Isabel: We haven't been together in so long.

Isabel: I know you want this as badly as I do.

Talen watches her slowly undo her corset, unamused.

Talen: No, I don't want that. Not at all. I dropped the ring when you pushed me, can we try to find it?

Ignoring his request, Isabel finishes untying her top, removing it completely.

Isabel: What about now?

For a moment, Talen is speechless; taken by the view before him. It isn't long before he snaps back to attention however.

Talen: Wha- no! This is not necessary really.

As if she can't hear him, Isabel drops onto the ground and slowly crawls over to him.

Isabel: Try all you want, you can't resist me.

Isabel: I know everything you like

Talen watches his wife in shock. She has never acted this way.

Isabel: Won't you love me, Talen? It's been so long.

The closer she gets, the more tense Talen feels. This was not at all how he pictured them reuniting. Without thinking, Talen shoves Isabel away.

Talen: Stop it! This isn't like you!

Isabel: T-Talen... I-

Talen: No, Isabel. Stop. What has gotten into you?

Talen turns away, appalled by what just happened. When he does, he notices the ring laying forgotten on the ground beside him.

He quickly snatches it, extending it in his hand towards Isabel.

Talen: Please put this on. If our relationship means anything to you, put it on.

Isabel stares silently at the ring being offered to her. Talen watches with bated breath.

A few seconds pass, each one an hour to Talen.

Talen chokes out a final word, he feels tears start to well behind his eyes, as if a dam was soon to burst.

Talen: Please...

Isabel gives him one last solemn stare before wiping it away.

Isabel: No, Talen. I will not put it on.

All it takes is the first word, and the world comes snapping back. Everything that Talen felt disappear with their kiss returns with brute force at the sound of a single word.

Talen: You don't mean that.

Isabel: I do mean it. The only reason we haven't seen each other in five years is because I have not wanted to.

Isabel: The only reason we are speaking now is because my Lord Molag Bal wanted me to find you.

Talen wants to hurl. This can't be happening. It can't. After everything he has gone through, it can't end this way.

Isabel: Turns out you're more than some squabbling Breton coward. But you'll never get the chance to see what you become.

Isabel: Goodnight, Talen. See you when you wake up.

With a wave of her hands, a heavy exhaustion overcomes Talen. He tries to fight it, but as his eyes drift to a close, all he wants to do is give up. As he falls to the ground, the dam breaks... and Talen cries.

To be continued...