Disclaimer: The Elder Scrools series, Skyrim, and related titles are property of the developers and creatives.

Author's Note: This is it.

Thanks for the ride, all. The translation of this chapter is "forever."

Raj'kono

I get up and hobble over to the washroom. As I splash water from the basin over my face, I gaze into the looking glass we have fixed on the wall. The fur on my face has started to go white, framing my eyes and lips. One of my eyes is clouding with cataracts and the sight makes me blink rapidly. As if I could wash away the disease. And worst of all, I feel it in my bones. Age. I feel what Kodlak must have all those years ago.

I am so tired.

It's been over for several years now, that bloody war that rent Skyrim in two. The outcome hardly seems relevant: Talos worship is allowed once more and though we remain with the Empire, the Dominion has partially withdrawn their influence. The Blades continue strong, the organization I once helped build now running without my guide. It's a sort of bittersweet feeling. I know Aela feels it too. She and I, we have done so much together. She joined The Blades for a time, even took over as Harbinger of the Companions when I wanted to raise our son.

The thought brings a smile to my face. I'd never thought about having children in this strange land before Aela, but two years into our marriage, I knew I wanted a child. She was understanding, but had less interest in raising a child. It didn't matter to me. I said I would do it. And I did. Stepped down from my responsibilities for four years while he grew. A small Khajiit we named J'Kin. Adopted, of course, as Aela and I could not conceive a child and Aela had no interested in carrying one. We waited for several years for the right opportunity, and then Khajro, my old friend, sent word that his caravan had stumbled upon a Khajiit cub, his parents either dead or gone. He was so small...

He grew up inside Jorrvastr. Aela and I worked together to teach him the ways of the Companions and watched over the Companions together. She handled matters outside the hall and I inside. We were a great team.

I feel her hands on my shoulders, and her face appears in the mirror next to mine. Age is a funny thing. A scar cuts her upper lip, but she hardly has any wrinkles. Only crow's feet spreading out from the sides of her eyes like spider's legs. She stopped wearing war paint long ago, but she's never stopped looking fierce. Aela kisses my cheek, smiling.

"Good morning, Dro'Kasan." She uses the honorific for grandfathers and patriarchs.

I huff, "I'm not that old."

She laughs, but offers me her strong arm regardless. "Of course not."

We hobble out to the porch and sit on the bench we built years ago. My head falls softly against the wall of our home as Aela cradles my hand. The sun touches the mountains, slipping beneath their rocks and snow. Somewhere, a wolf howls.

"Aela?"

"Yes, dear."

"Run with me."

Aela squeezes my hand. "Blood running hot?"

"We shall see tonight."

We tear off into the grasslands around our cottage outside the walls of Whiterun. We are not the Harbingers. We are not the Companions. We are just us. And we are free.

Hircine laughs to see us scamper like little ones.