Skyrim

Few know the secrets held by my family. Now, I may be the only one.

My father was not truly evil.  It can be said that he was, although I doubt any who would make such a claim, can understand as I can. Thanks to what he left behind, I know his true motivation. He did not really act out of a selfish bid for power. He chose to make a stance, to do something that no other in that bloody Mages Guild chose to do. That being, to end the conflict. The problem, is that he chose to do so, by becoming a Necromancer himself. To join with the one known as Mannimarco. Some may view this as a mistake. However, as I understand it, it was not. The exact details are vague, even to me, but I know he gained power over something that few had. Death, itself.

Rather than using this for a selfish aim, his last gift  to me and my mother, was something to ensure a legacy. Not for what would be my own children, but for the two in all of Tamriel that he gave up, perhaps too much, to protect. If he gave his life for us, I do not know. But I know that after he gave us the key to our continued legacy, I never saw him again. Perhaps he still lives, finding his own method for immortality at the side of Mannimarco. Or perhaps, he took the power of this, entity, for himself. I do not know, and will not likely know.

After the fall of the Guild, and the lapse of the Empire into the stagnation that it's stewards brought, my mother understood, just as well as I, that it was a turning point. My father would have said the same, and thus we chose to move to the house my father had bought in Bruma. Leaving the Imperial City was hard for us both. So many memories, some happy, others sad, but all worth the feelings, the pain, the happiness. However, leaving it behind meant that, when the fighting began, we were spared from it. However, we were forced to endure another fight – one that brings me to the point where I am now.

When we arrived in Bruma, we settled in, and made our home in the snowy town. My father liked it for several reasons, mostly since my mother herself was born in Skyrim, and it was the closest place that she had in Cyrodiil that was like home. She wished to go back, but it was something she would never do. At least, not while she would be able to enjoy herself. Oddly, in a way, neither would I. At least, not for some time.

I ran into a tower with two of the men who had been in the cart, Ulfric being one of them. Asked what was going on, he said what I already knew. Adding “Legends do not burn down villages.”

I thought, “Sure they do. If they are true.”