Chapter 6

“I know what I saw, Astrid,” Grodyl insisted, his voice firm with conviction.

The hall buzzed with murmurs, whispers threading through the air like shadows. Some assassins spoke in hushed tones of concern, while others expressed disbelief, their words tinged with doubt.

But I had no doubt. Over the years, I’d met countless people and had learned to recognize the truth when it stared me in the face.

“Great,” Astrid finally scoffed as she moved to her seat at the head of the table. “As if the civil war wasn’t enough, now we have to worry about dragons too.”

Her attempt at a sarcastic cheer couldn’t mask the concern that underlined her words. We all heard it, the subtle tremor beneath her sharp tone.

“We’ll find a way,” Arnbjorn said, his voice a low rumble as he took the seat beside her.

“And how exactly do you plan to do that?” Nazir asked, his question earning him a cold, piercing stare from the werewolf.

“By staying out of it,” Astrid interjected, her voice cutting through the tension. “As we always do.”

“And you think that will work?” I asked, feeling the weight of every gaze in the room shift toward me. “We can scout the war from a distance and keep our hands clean, but how do you plan to scout dragons?”

Astrid stilled, her movements freezing as her gaze lifted to meet mine. Fury burned beneath her brown eyes, a controlled fire simmering just beneath the surface.

“They didn’t attack, and you only saw them, didn’t you?” Arnbjorn asked, his question directed at the witnesses. Both shook their heads, confirming his assumption.

“So?” Nazir interjected, his tone edged with frustration. “We wait and do nothing until they decide to attack us?”

“If they attack us, we’ll deal with them, Nazir.”

“Oh?” the Redguard chuckled, his amusement barely masking his disbelief. “That is a dragon, you fool!”

“Enough!” Astrid’s voice cut through the tension, “We still don’t know if all this is true, it might be a trap, or a trick of the elves—”

I couldn’t help but chuckle, the sound escaping before I could stop it, halting her mid-sentence.

“Whatever it is,” she sighed, her gaze sweeping across the room, lingering on each member of our family, “we will gather information, see what we can find.”

Her eyes finally settled on me. “Since you’re in a cheerful mood, you can look into this, right? Ashenblade?”

I leaned back in my chair, feeling once more the weight of every silent gaze fixed on me.

Astrid was the Speaker—there was no defying her. Well, deep down, I didn’t want to. She had always been a firm supporter of my berserk nature, giving me the freedom to act as I saw fit. But the Black Hand’s authority was absolute, and we were all bound by its grip.

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I nodded softly, a slight shrug signaling my agreement.

“Well then, it’s settled,” Astrid sighed, her voice carrying the finality of a closed door. “No more talk of the winged beasts.”

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As night approached, the hall grew quieter, though the tables were still occupied by assassins discussing the day’s events. Like everyone else, I was frustrated by the thought of dragons returning. Skyrim was already had a civil war on the horizon, and Astrid was right—each day brought more dangers than the last.

“Nio,” Nazir’s voice pulled me from my thoughts as I stood alone in the secluded courtyard, both haunting and serene, a hidden gem tucked away from the world’s prying eyes.

I greeted him with a smile before turning my gaze back to the sky, filled with countless stars, their light dim and distant.

“I came back because,” he began, placing a hand on my shoulder, “I need to talk to you.”

I turned to him, curious. “About what?”

“I know you’ve chosen your path,” he sighed, the weight of his words hanging in the air, “but listen to me, just this once.”

There was a note of uncertainty in his voice that I couldn’t quite place.

“Soon, Astrid will make you an offer.”

I nodded, urging him to continue.

“Don’t accept it.”

I raised an eyebrow. “What will she offer me?”

“Something you’ll likely think you deserve, and you—”

“Then I’ll take it.” I cut short, turning my gaze back to the night sky.

He exhaled, the sound filled with frustration.

“Then,” he said, his hand slipping from my shoulder, “you will always be hers.”

I stilled, my mind wrestling with the truth in his words. Deep down, I knew he was right.

From a family that made me, to a family that perfected me, and now, to another that played me like a finely tuned instrument.

I laughed bitterly at my fate in my mind, but a soft chuckle escaped my lips.

I shrugged.

“She is family.”

So was the Brotherhood. I felt like I belonged to it, to its cause and its fate. From the moment I first walked through the Sanctuary's halls, I knew it was my home.

And I served it. So much so that Nazir believed I had gone too far.

“Look, Nio,” his voice dropped to a whisper, filled with urgency, “you’re heading down a path that leads only to darkness. I warned you before, and I’m warning—no, begging you, for the father’s sake, please…”

“I don’t understand,” I interrupted, my brows furrowing in frustration. “Why would you stand between me and something Astrid would offer?”

I crossed my arms, my stance firm.

“After all, you’re the one who brought me here, rather than anywhere else.”

His expression shifted, the concern in his eyes giving way to a flicker of shame.

I knew my words were harsh, but I had never been one to shy away from the truth, whether it was painful or not.

I turned to leave, but his shaky voice stopped me in my tracks. “You know, at first, I pitied you—when we found you that day, in that ragged dress, covered in blood.”

I didn’t turn to face him, but I couldn’t take another step either.

“And then I pitied the owners off those scattered body parts around you,” he continued, his voice a haunting whisper, “crushed between ice spikes that wouldn’t melt.”

His words dragged the memories to the surface, vivid and raw. I could still see the twisted remains— splintered and torn, the ice piercing through them like spears. The sight had once filled me with horror, but now, it was a memory tainted with a dark satisfaction.

I tried to move forward, but his gentle grasp on my arm held me in place.

“Then I adored you, Nio,” he said, his tone softening. “You were such a naive soul, forced into malice.”

I froze again, my mind replaying the scene he described. The truth was, when he brought me here, he thought he had saved a victim, someone who needed to be mended. But what he didn’t know then was that I had spent most of my life training to cause suffering.

Over the years, as he had learned everything about me, I knew he understood the gravity of his mistake—to have brought me to the perfect place to unleash it all. I could smell his regret that clung to him like a foul stench.

“But now I—” he hesitated, as if the words were too heavy to speak, “I just fear you.”

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, my voice barely audible as I took a step forward, freeing myself from his grip. “It’s too late for me now.”

To be continued…