Daughter to Dragons- a Skyrim inspired fantasy

Chapter Thirteen

I always wondered where my father's spirit would go once he moved on from this world. Would he join his fellow Nightingale's and become a sentinel to guard the Twilight Sepulcher? Or would he go to Sithis as an assassin of the Dark Brotherhood? His adventures brought him to the attention of many powerful entities: Azura, Sheogorath, Sanguine, Hermaeous Mora, just to name a few. He was a great Nord warrior, deserving of a place in Sovngarde. He even physically entered Sovngarde and saved all the souls dwelling there from Alduin. But he was also Dragonborn—the chosen of Akatosh.

"Every man must die," he told me. But what happened after that? I had seen enough spirits to know that death is not the end. Where would I spend the rest of eternity? I was no one special. The only thing that gave me a chance was who I was born to.

My father had left a huge hole to fill. And here I was paying even more of his debts.

When does his life end and mine truly begin?

A man dies two deaths. First is the death of his body. Last is the death of his name. So long as his name lives on, he will never truly die. And I knew I would die my final death long before my father ever does.

"What did he say to you?" Rhythe asked me, jerking me from my thoughts.

I ran my fingers through my hair, through the tangles and dead grass ratting it up. The sharp pain brought tears to my eyes, but I blinked them back, not wanting any of these people to see my weakness. Especially him. "We need to talk," I told him. "In private."

His narrowed eyes glowered at me with suspicion.

"Don't look at me like that," I snapped. "Neither of us have been entirely honest with the other."

"One less so than the other." He regarded me coldly, tilting his head up to look down at me. Not that he need to do so since he was half a head taller than me.

For a moment, I was back at the bandit camp just after his band of fools had captured me. Then he watched me as one would a sabre cat. Now all I felt from his gaze was ice. I didn't know which was worse.

Then I was back, returning his glare with one of my own. "Will you speak with me in the Hall?"

"Why there?"

"Werewolves," I snapped. "They tend to have excellent hearing."

He frowned and I watched the thoughts turn in his mind as he considered my words, weighing them carefully in his mind. Finally he sighed, shaking his head. "I know I will regret this," he said as he made his way to the entrance to the Nightingale Hall.

I turned to look back at my sister and the rest of the Companions. "We'll be back," I told them. "Meet us in Riften, if you wish. I have a room on reserve at the Bee and Barb Inn."

Vulfa rolled her eyes, but nodded. "I've been meaning to get drunk anyway. I'm putting it on your tab."

We went our separate ways, for now. I went to betray the trust of, strangely, the person I trusted most among all these people. It was an odd feeling, knowing that your life rested in the hands of a man who hated you. A man who I had to convince to make a life-altering decision... The odds were not in my favor.

I took a deep breath and entered the Hall.

Karliah's body had been covered with a white sheet. A deep red splotch stained where her stomach lay. Ashen fingers touched the floor, curled in a frozen caress. I couldn't look at it, yet I couldn't wretch my eyes away. My eyes stung as I fought back the tears that threatened to overwhelm.