Word spread quickly across Skyrim; Morthal is gone. Just like the news, tall tales of the Hold's fate spread like the snow. Braggarts boast of their witnessing of the battle and Bards mournfully sing of Jarl Idgrod's final stand. Travelers traverse the hold and proclaim their own recounts, each one different from the last. Solitude citizens continue to reminisce where they were when they heard the first scream ripple across the waters. Even Scholars across Tamriel turn their attention away from solving the sudden cold to dissecting the mystery behind Morthal's sudden destruction. Theories range from the citizens dying to frostbite to the World Eater himself returning. Everyone has their own story and no one has the same. This unknown keeps many from venturing out to discover the truth, and Morthal and its marsh has been left untouched. That is, until four men were given the task of uncovering the truth for themselves.

The cold air stings Celann's face. His boots sink shin deep into the snow with each step and his fingers begin to grow numb. It feels great to be back in action.

Things had been rather droll in Fort Dawnguard the past few weeks. News of anything other than the cold was scare, as couriers were put on hold and even the most rugged of journey men dared not brave the elements for longer than a day. Hearing anything about what was going on in the outside was world was impossible, and holing away in the secluded Dawnguard fortress was no help. News of Morthal reached them none the less, and Celann was the first to jump on the case. Years ago, back when Celann was still a Vigilant of Stendarr, he tracked down a vampire den to the marshes of Hjaalmarch. Though he ultimately never found them, he never could quite shake a feeling in his gut that they were up to something. Vampires often lay low, but this particular group had been silent for five years now. To Celan, they are unfinished business; and if it turns out that they are responsible for Morthal... He doesn't need another decision to regret.

Celann: Alright, boys, eyes peeled. Whatever happened here, there is bound to be an answer.

The three men with Celann have been his squadron ever since he, and other old partners, reformed the Dawnguard three years ago. They have grown close over the years, so much that Celann considers each of them a brother. However, brothers fight, and with every expedition they went on, it was Mike who would start it.

Mike: Hold up, boss.

Mike: What are we even looking for, huh? I mean really, vampires would never attack an entire hold, not so brazenly. I really don't think we have any business here.

Celann groans. He knew this would come sooner or later. Mike has an annoying habit of questioning every action the squadron undertakes. Whether it be the mission itself or what meal they should eat for the night, he just has to have his input. What annoys Celann the most is that Mike often makes good points. The lad is smart, probably more so than Celann (though he'll never admit it), even though he is the youngest of the group. Though what he has in brains, he lacks in leadership, experience, and intuition; and he knows it too. He never jumps the gun, and always approaches Celann with his thoughts before doing anything else. Celann respects him for it, though sometimes begrudgingly.

Celann: We do have business here, Mike. Vampires may not have destroyed the town, you're probably right. But think about the stories we've heard.

Celann: The reappearance of Dragons, wrinkled elves born from the snow, an entire army of werewolves rising with the full moon; even one about a lone elf slaying the entirety of the Jarl's forces, we've heard some of everything it seems.

Mike: Yeah, but not vampires.

Davey: Here we go again...

The next oldest in the group, but also the lowest rank, is Davey. He sighs. After three years of dealing with Mike's and Celann's "discussions" (as they put them), he knows to just wait until Celann eventually wins. He doesn't mind, in fact, he is quite fond of their little scenes. Every family has fights, and these were ones he could always count on happening.

Davey grew up in The Reach, nowhere near the safest city, but holed up in the mountains. The Reach was as dangerous back then as it is today, and Davey had to learn to fight at a young age. His single father took an that role, and he and his three brothers were taught more things than even a veteran adventurer would know. By his thirteenth name day, Devey knew first-aid and craftsmanship, how to fight, hunt, and cook, and, most importantly, how to run.

It was that last skill, however, that he had to learn himself.

Davey knew very little about the outside world, and it wasn't until he served as a Markarth City guard that he discovered just how big it really is. His skill with a blade and knowledge about survival made him quite popular among the other soldiers. But Markarth, and The Reach, only held bad memories. Immediately after serving his sworn time as a guard, he left in search of a new beginning. It was then that he ran into a large, burly nord named Vorn, who invited him to join the Dawnguard.

Vorn: Hey guys, you might want to take a look at this.

Vorn knew Celann back when the two of them were both members of the Vigil. Though he did not take up arms and join Celann's righteous break away from the Vigil at first, he found himself intrigued at the news of a new coalition forming: The Dawnguard. After rallying many members of the Vigil, he became one of the first to join. At first, he was not a member of Celann's squadron, but rather a leader of his own. This role went down in flames quickly however, when all of his men save him were killed in an expedition gone wrong. Though the blame was not put on him, Vorn still believes there was something he could have done to alter his men's fates.

Because of a lack of recruits, forming a new squad for him was impossible and he was temporarily placed in Celann's. Though when given the opportunity months later to lead a squad once again, Vorn declined. It was not fear of failure that kept him away, but rather a love for his friends that continues his stay to this day.

Davey: Whatcha got over there, Vorn?

Mike and Celann cease their quarrel without so much as a final retort, each of them knowing how it would end anyway, and turn to Vorn.

Celann: Everything alright?

Vorn: Everything's fine for me, but...

Davey: Whoa...

Vorn: This wolf isn't.

The men gather around the corpse, bewitched. None of them make an initial comment on the fallen beast, instead looking over it in stunned silence. Finally, Davey breaks the tension.

Davey: This was no hunter, guys. Believe me.

Mike: You're right about that. But even a poacher or self defense wouldn't warrant this many arrows. Celann?

Celann: You're right, this wasn't self defense. At least, not for the shooter.

Celann: See how it's sprawled forward like that? It died mid leap.

Celann: All the arrows are on one side too, making me think it wasn't changing direction.

Celann: Wolves always move in random motions to confuse prey, but this one didn't... as if it was shielding something.

Vorn: The question is: shielding who and from what?

Mike: I don't know about who, but I think I found the what.

The men turn their attention away from the carcass and look to where Mike nods his head. As as they do each one adopts the same puzzled expression.

Vorn: What the... What is that?

They hesitantly move towards a tree where a strange, mangled corpse dangles from its branches.

Mike: Ugh, this thing reeks.

Mike: Is it some kind of goblin?

Vorn: Stark skin and a scrawny body, it's gotta be a vampire.

Davey: Nope, sorry lads, you're both wrong.

Davey: This son of a bitch is a falmer. Nasty things. I saw them all the time back in the reach. Believe me, if this thing is what was fighting the wolf, we'd be rooting for the wolf.

Mike: But look at it. No blood, no clear wounds.

Mike: It's as if it climbed this tree just to die.

Celann: Looks like it has a cracked helmet, or whatever that thing on its head is.

Celann: I'd put my bet on some kind of magical shock wave that sent it flying. I've seen Isran do a similar effect with restoration magic on vampires. Who's to say it wouldn't work on this, uh, falmer?

Davey: Yep, that's right.

Celann nods his head. Now they are getting somewhere. It's impossible to know yet if these were the cause of Morthal's fate, but they certainly had some role to play. But in order to find out, they have to keep going. Celann straightens up and turns to his men.

Celann: No reason to dawdle here any longer. Lets move.

Mike, Davey, and Vorn all nod in agreement. Without a second glance, they turn away from the tree and follow Celann.

Back in formation, the group moves carefully through the marsh. With the threat of more falmer possibly lurking behind the fog, they are much more alert. The foggy atmosphere made it difficult to see, even more so for Mike and Davey. Their helmets did little to shield them from the cold air. Every few moments they would have to hear their own loud sniffle echo throughout their helmet's steel frame. Celann and Vorn did not fare much better, as the cold air bit at their skin and turned the tips of their noses a bright red. With the fog, loud crunches of snow, numbing chills, and running noses, their senses were stifled to the point of uselessness. Yet as they reached the top of a hill, the stench of the dead burrowed itself deep into each of their nostrils.

Davey: What in the...

Mike: Look at them all...

Vorn: This was definitely no hunting trip.

Mike: There are so many. I thought wolves only lived in packs of three or four?

Celann: They do...

Celann: At least they took one down this time.

Mike: Great. So it takes ten wolves to kill one of those things?

Davey: If that's the case, then that is a weak falmer, believe me.

The four men make it to the edge of the river and halt. Celann turns to the group and waves two fingers to one side and another two to the other, it is the standard signal to split up. In a rhythm, the squad divides into their usual duos. Vorn and Mike will scan this side of the river while Celann and Davey cross over to scan the other side.

Mike: We got another dead one over here already.

Davey: Same. Looks like good news to me.

Celann: I wouldn't get so optimistic yet.

Celann: I don't think it was wolves that killed these falmer.

Celann: Hey! Vorn! You two find anything?

Vorn: Just another dead wolf. No! Nothing here, Celann!

Celann curses under his breath. There are close to something, he can feel it. If only he knows just what it is they are looking for. The four of them come to a fork in the river and Celann signals for all them to cross to one side. When they reach the other end of the river they spread out of cover more ground, though not far enough to stray from sight.

Celann: How could the trail just stop? There's hardly anything here...

Vorn: Geez, you sure are ugly. See any more, Mike?

Mike: Nope. Nothing. It's like they all just disappeared.

Davey: What the...

Davey: Is that a-

Talen: H-Help...

Talen: ...Me.

Davey is already in full sprint by the time Talen collapses to the snow. He doesn't know who Talen is or why he is out here, but all his instincts are screaming at him to rush to his aid first and ask questions later.

Davey: Survivor! We have a survivor!

Celann: Vorn! Mike! Over here!

Vorn: No way...

Mike: Someone's seriously still here?

Davey makes it to Talen first. He drops to his knees and slides to a halt, sending snow flying.

Without wasting a second, he scoops Talen into his arms and begins his usual first-aid procedure. As he does, Celann drops down next to him.

Celann: What's his status? Is he alive?

Vorn: Is he okay?

Mike: We're on our way!

Vorn: Oh gods...

Mike: Who is he? Is he a survivor?

Celann: Answer me, Davey. How is the man?

Davey is silent for a moment. He places his fingers just beneath Talen's jaw bone, feeling for a pulse. His other hand moves over Talen's body, searching for any clear wounds. After a few moments, he answers.

Davey: He has a pulse and he is still breathing. So far I don't see any noticeable wounds either.

Vorn: So what's the synopsis? Why is he unconscious?

Davey: He shows no clear sign of dehydration or starvation and there are no prominent head wounds. His body is shaking too.

Davey: It could be from the cold, but he is keeping a warm temperature. I think... I think he may have passed out from shock.

Celann curses under his breath. Whatever happened, this man might know the answer, but he wasn't about to tell them in this condition. Celann takes in one last breath and nods to his squadron.

Celann: Alright, this is as far as we go. We need to get this man back to health.

Celann: I refuse to let him die under my watch.

Talen's eyes fly open and a gasp for air inflates his lungs.

He sits up to a familiar feeling. His hands press against a hard, straw covered bed; the tiny pines prickle his palms. His lute leans on the bed side table next to him where Isabel's old flute sits atop, untouched. A poorly woven, green tunic warms his body; held in place the same thick leather belt he made himself as a young boy. The welcoming scent of boiled beef, cabbage, carrots, and onions fills the room.

But the most familiar feeling at all...

Is that of love.

Isabel: Gosh darn it.

Isabel: It's starting to smell funny.

Isabel: I don't wanna start over again...

Talen smiles. Isabel never was a good cook.

Talen: Don't even think about it. I'll eat it either way!

Isabel jumps at his voice. She whips around and a smile spreads across her face.

Isabel: You scared me! I didn't think you'd be up so soon.

Talen: I smelled something cooking. It's making me hungry.

Isabel purses her lips and raises an eyebrow.

Isabel: Sure about that? Because it smells like burning...

Talen smirks.

Talen: Well... I didn't marry you for your cooking.

Isabel scrunches her face. With gleam in her eye, she dashes over and bonks Talen with her ladle.

Talen: Oof!

Talen rubs his head and grins.

Talen: Okay, I guess I deserved that.

Isabel: That's right, you did, mister!

Isabel: Now eat up! Burnt or not!

Talen eagerly accepts the bowl. With it out of her hands, Isabel tosses her ladle to the beside table and plops down atop the bed next to Talen.

Isabel: So you were totally out last night. How late were you up anyway?

Talen: Oh man... I don't even remember.

Talen: But get this! A group of travelers arrived at the inn saying they came to hear the two of us play.

Talen: People are starting to miss you, babe.

Isabel: I'll return someday. But I wanna prepare. A year from now we'll both be super busy, so I want to make sure everything is set.

Talen smiles. His wife never ceases to amaze him. Always so dedicated and strong, even now.

Talen: You know I'll always support you. But we have nine months at the very least, so don't feel like you have to rush.

Talen tips the bowl towards his lips and sucks down the soup with one gulp. It is a trick he learned shorty after first tasting Isabel's cooking.

Talen: Ah! Now that was delicious!

Isabel: Oh, yeah right. You didn't even taste it.

Talen stands to his feet and stretches his arms.

Talen: It was! Now come on. I'm taking you out today.

Isabel tries to keep from giving off a giddy smile, but it is no use. Flushed, she stands up and wraps her fingers around Talen's...

Isabel: I love you.

Talen: I love you too.

...and, hand in hand, they venture out...

...into a nightmare.

Talen: No... no no no. The sun... It's supposed to be morning. W-where is it?

Talen: Where is the village?

Talen's jaw drops and his eyes widen as he gazes across the waste before him. The temperature drops and his body begins to shake. Inside his house, it was quiet. Out here, he can hear it all. Screams, pleads, begs, groans, and cries all blare in his ears. His head rings.

Man: No! Don't die, please!

Man: My king! Where is my king! Save me, my king!

Man: He has abandoned us all!

Talen: This isn't real... This can't be happening...

Talen's body begs him to turn away but he can't. His eyes glue themselves to the hundreds of empty crosses that have impaled themselves into where his village once stood. He squeezes his hand only to find it achingly empty.

Isabel: T-Talen...

Isabel barely manages to croak out even that, her voice hoarse and strained. At the sound of it, Talen's body grows rigid. His lips quivering, he slowly turns around and nearly blacks out at the sight of his wife.

He wants to scream and cry, but only a feeble gasp flees his lips.

Isabel: H-help... Me...

Her plea snaps Talen back into attention. His voice no longer frozen, Talen yells and charges towards his wife.

Talen: Isabel!

Before he even reaches her, she drops from the cross, falling to the floor in a heap. Talen drops to his knees, his voice beginning to flee once again.

Isabel: I'm sorry, Talen. I couldn't stop them...

Talen: W-what? Stop talking... I'll get you help. You'll be fine, everything will be fine.

Isabel: This isn't real, my love. You know that.

Talen feels tears start to well in his eyes. He did know it, he knew it the whole time...

Talen: That doesn't matter! It doesn't! I can stay here with you forever! There's no need to go back...

Isabel: Talen, they changed me. What you're seeing is me... Me in my last breath.

Talen: Isabel, please... This isn't you...

Isabel: Talen... I'm dead. It was all part of her pla- gah!

Before she can finish, Isabel collapses. Talen reaches out to grab her but pulls back as she sits back up, a new form taking her shape.

Talen: No... What are you doing here?

Voice: Hmm, no, that's my line.

Voice: You really weren't supposed to hear all that.

As Talen stares at the woman in front of him, a swirl of emotions conjoin in his head. He feels fear, he feels shock, even regret and melancholy.

Voice: I think you've been asleep long enough.

He has spent the last five years of his life looking for the wrong person. It is not her flesh and bone that he yearns for. It is her soul.

Isabel: It's time you wake up.

And her soul was lost long ago. As Talen stares at the woman in front of him, one familiar feeling is fleeting; love.

Isabel: It's supposed to work, damn it!

Isabel pounds her fist against the table, knocking over her inkwell and toppling her ingredients onto the ground.

Isabel: I've spent two days working on this for nothing. Were we mistaken? There's no way...

On the other end of the room, Talen wakes up in a daze. Tiny images of his wife linger in his head along with an odd visage of his old village being replaced by a graveyard. It takes him a moment to find his bearings, the last thing he remembers was Isabel putting some kind of sleep spell on him.

Talen: Ugh... What happened?

His arms feel heavy. He wriggles his wrists, trying to lower his arms, but finds them bound together by thick rope. If that isn't bad enough, one of them stings with a hot burning as if he had just been cut by a sharp knife.

Isabel: I'll tell you what happened, Talen.

Talen: Isabel... Why am I bound like this? Th-the ring... Where is it?

Isabel's lips curl into a snarl.

Isabel: Gods, you're thick. Give it up, will you?

Not giving Talen an opportunity to respond, Isabel wiggles her hand, shaking an large vial in her palm.

Isabel: See this? It's your blood.

Talen: My wrist... Why did you take my blood?

Isabel rolls her eyes.

Isabel: Because it's supposed to be very special blood, very powerful blood.

Isabel: The Blood of Kings.

Now it is Talen's turn to roll his eyes. He twists his lip and furrows his brows.

Talen: What? I'm no King, you know that!

Isabel grimaces and, with a scoff, tosses the vial over her head.

Isabel: Yeah, I do now.

Talen watches, aghast, as the container holding his blood tumbles through the air and down to the ground.

Talen: What the- Why did you do that?

Isabel: Because it is useless, Talen! I tested your so called "Kings Blood" but nothing happened!

Isabel: Do you have any idea how long I have prepared for this? I had one mission. One! And it turns out to have been a waste of time.

Talen stiffens. He watches helplessly as Isabel glowers above him, shoulders heaving.

Talen: Then stop doing it. We're together now, Isabel. There's no reason to carry on with this.

Isabel grits her teeth and shakes her head, her eyes shooting glares at every corner of the room, refusing to look at Talen. She clenches her fists and lowers herself to Talen's level.

Isabel: Will you give it up!

Isabel: You and I are nothing anymore! I'm so sick of hea-

Isabel is cut off by a holler from the cave behind them.

Vampire: Haha! The prey is here!

Isabel: Oh, you have got to be kidding me.

Isabel eases back to her feet, trying to regain composure. Taking in a breath, she turns to Talen and waves her hand...

Isabel: I'll continue this later.

...returning Talen to sleep.

Isabel leans over the corpses of the final defeated falmer, panting. They had put up quite a fight, but ultimately Isabel and her coven won out; though they were not without casualties. All of their thralls were dead and any cattle they were keeping in the back room ended up being slaughtered as well. Including Isabel herself, only three vampires were still standing.

Isabel: Wow... those bastards... were tough.

Isabel: Why were they here anyway?

Isabel takes a deep breath and sighs.

Isabel: Not like it matters anyway. Taeyva may have escaped, but I still have Talen.

Isabel: He has to have the blood.

Isabel grins, deviously

Isabel: I'll just keep taking more until I find it.

The fight had allowed Isabel to vent much of her frustrations over Talen. No longer steaming, Isabel glides confidently back into her chambers.

Isabel: Sorry to keep you waiting, Talen.

Isabel: Now lets get some more of your blo-

As she turns the corner, Isabel stops. The room is empty.

Isabel: So... you woke up, huh?

Isabel scans the room. Talen is still here, she can tell by the scent. It continues to linger strongly in the room, but from where? As her eyes move to and fro, they come across a trail of blood leading to the back corner of the room.

Isabel: You can't hide from me, Talen.

Isabel: You're bleeding. It only makes your scent stronger.

Isabel begins to follow the blood trail, carefully taking each step.

Isabel: Hiding from me will only make things worse for you.

Isabel: I'll give you one chance to come out before I-

Isabel rounds the corner and stops.

Isabel: What the...

She freezes at a dead end. Talen's scent stops at a large splatter of blood dripping over the floorboards.

Isabel: Where did you g- ah!

A sharp pain shoots through Isabel's gut. She bring her hand to her stomach and feels a sticky goop oozing out. Pulling her hand away, she sees a crimson stain envelope her palm.

Feeling herself begin to sway, Isabel collapses to one knee.

Isabel: Wh-Why you... You'd try to kill...

Isabel starts to wheeze. She can barely speak through panted breaths. Still clutching her stomach, she clambers back to her feet.

Isabel: Your own wife?

Isabel: I'll make you regret this, Talen.

Isabel: It's gonna take a lot more than that to kill- ack!

Talen: I know...

Talen: It took a lot for me to kill you.

Isabel fails to utter a word. She only manages to croak out a moan as blood gargles from her throat and sputters from her lips.

Isabel: Ugh... ack...

Talen: But I would never try to kill my wife.

Talen turns away.

Collapsing back to her knees, Isabel clutches the dagger lodged in her throat. The blood dribbling out begins to soak her clothes and hands. Coughing out one final sputter, Isabel's hands fall away and her body tumbles to the ground.

Talen: My wife died long ago...

Talen: And that's it.

Talen: That's what happened.

Hours since his blackout in the marsh, Talen woke up on a deer hide rug, his body warmed by a blazing fire. A table behind him was occupied by four men in deep discussion. Talen didn't catch everything they were saying, but it was something about Morthal and possible survivors. Talen did not know what that meant, but he did not have to wait to ask. Only a few seconds after his rousing, one of the men exclaimed "he's awake!" and they all ran to his aid. After giving him food, water, and answering all the questions he had, they set him down on the table bench and asked for his story. At first, Talen was hesitant. He did not know who these men were or what their odd uniforms represented. They politely introduced themselves after Talen voiced this concern.

They are all members of a vampire hunting group called the Dawnguard. This building is apparently part of their fortress, and the four of them are only a tiny part of the whole of the army. The leader of their little band is a man named Celann. He seems nice enough. He was the one who insisted on answering Talen's questions before even asking theirs. The rest of the men were equally kind, despite their odd quirks.

Davey, who was the one that exclaimed "he's awake", seems incredibly caring, if not to a fault. He continued to ask questions about Talen's well being throughout their conversation. And every time he was trying to state a fact, he would end his sentence with "believe me".

The one who kept insisting Davey stop asking questions is a guy named Mike. Though despite his blatant annoyance with Davey's inquisition, he kept raising query's of his own. Often asking if Talen knew anything about Morthal or if the vampires had anything to do with it.

There is a spirited camaraderie among the four of them that felt inviting and gave Talen the courage to tell his story. As it came to a close, though, Talen could not meet any of their eyes, for fear they would cast him out.

Talen stares coldly at the deer hide rug beneath his feet, waiting for any of the men to say something. Just as Talen is beginning to think they were disgusted by his actions, Celann speaks up.

Celann: Hey, you did the right thing.

Celann: I can't begin to understand what that must have felt like, but I know it took guts to go through with it.

Vorn: You put your wife to rest, friend. That was an act of mercy.

Davey: I couldn't have done that, believe me. You've got guts.

Mike: You've earned my respect, Talen.

Celann: You can put this part of your life behind you. You can move on. You can finally move on.

Talen sniffles. His eyes begin to feel heavy as a tear slips out and slides down his cheek. Move on. It sounds like a nice dream. But how can he? He doesn't know any other life. Where would he even go?

Talen: What can I even do? I wouldn't even know where to begin... I jus-

Vorn: Join the Dawnguard!

Talen sits up, flustered.

Talen: What? N-no. I couldn't... I don't even know how to fight.

Davey: That's no problem! I can teach you! I'm an excellent teacher, believe me.

Mike: I'm gonna have to agree with him there. You'll be an expert in no time!

Celann: We could always use new recruits. You could join our squad.

Celann stands to his feet and takes stance with the rest of his men.

Celann: What do you say, Talen?

Celann: Will you join the Dawnguard?

Talen stares stunned. He hasn't been accepted into a group since he was back in High Rock, performing in the local inn with Isabel. But the Dawnguard? Is it something he could amount to doing? Talen gulps.

Talen: I think...

Just as he is about to say no, he remembers what the past few weeks have been like. How he captured a daedra, fought a wispmother, journeyed to the Sacellum of Boethiah, met a witch of Hircine, traversed the land of Skyrim from the highest mountains to the murkiest of marshes, and how he finally found his wife and put her to rest. It was twisted, but somehow, someway, he did it. If he could do all that...

Talen looks up to Celann and the rest of the squad and, to his surprise, smiles.

Talen: Yeah... Yeah. I'll do it!

End of Chapter Two.

This has been an incredible journey so far, and I'm just getting started. Thank you all so much for reading my story, it means to world to me. It's been a long introduction, and I mean a really fucking long one, but finally the real story will begin. Yes, that's right, these two chapters have only been introductory. I had to get Talen to this point and the only way was to draw out his character as long as possible. He had to go through these trials in order to become, what I'd call, "The Main". But that doesn't mean he will be stealing any of the spotlight going forward. I tried to leave the other characters off on a cliff hanger, and each one will be picked up in Chapter 3, so stay tuned! We're not even close to the end, so hold onto your seats. Chapter 3 won't be out anytime soon, but that's only because I want time to settle the close to Chapter 2 and give an appropriate amount of "suspense time".

Once again, thank you for reading. And if you want to tell me, I'd absolutely LOVE to hear who your favorite character is and why; or just who it is if you don't really know why.