Disbelief.

That was the first thing I was aware of feeling, complete and utter disbelief. This couldn't be happening. This wasn't happening. This had to be some sort of messed up nightmare.

But it wasn't.

There was no 'waking up' from this.

This was real.

And it was all my fault.

...

No, not just mine.

I was shaking. Shaking with grief and fear, tears streaming down my face, chest tight with anger - no, not anger. With rage.

Blood roared in my ears as I turned, my gaze leaving the edge of the mountain as I came face-to-face with the group of Forsworn whom my brother had sent after me, and, upon seeing them, an indescribable feeling overcame me. My vision flashed white and I heard nothing but a high-pitched whine as the air around me began to crackle, and yet another arrow that had been aimed my way evaporated into dust as the odd feeling deep within my core grew ever stronger.

Thunder rumbled ominously overhead, and a strong wind picked up as I almost unconsciously drew my sword, no longer trembling as grief and the desire for vengeance overcame me and I launched myself at the nearest Forsworn, a cry of fury leaving my mouth as I ran them through with my weapon, dark red staining the blade and spurting from their corpse as I pulled my sword back out with just as much vehemence. By this time, the others had already sprung into action, and I whirled around in time to see one of the Forsworn coming at me with an axe, but with a thought and a small expenditure of magicka, his weapon was reduced to ashes, and in a matter of seconds, so was he.

And then, my eyes landed on the bowman who had... who had killed one of my best friends. Time seemed to stand still as our eyes locked, and a fresh wave of bloodlust and loathing flooded my core, and I noted he'd positioned himself dangerously near the edge of the path. A vengeful grin edged its way onto my face as I took a step towards him, satisfaction coursing through me as I shot twin bolts of lightning from my palms, catching my adversary in the center of his chest and sending him flying off the side of the mountain and to his death, in a sick sort of irony and justice.

And then agony added fuel to my flames. A sharp, stabbing pain erupted in my side; I screamed, and the sky screamed with me.

Thunder roared and blinding, arcing beams of light scorched the ground around me, cries of surprise and pain echoing from all around me, the sounds indistinguishable from one another. I lashed out blindly, numbly, letting instinct guide me as I took out yet another Forsworn, and another, and another. I had no idea of how many Forsworn were dying by my hands, but a part of me knew that, no matter how many of them I'd slain, it was not enough.

The haze didn't clear until I was facing the Briarheart, who had as emotionless and vacant look on his face as ever. His skin was scorched, blistered, and unnaturally blackened, yet he seemed completely unfazed by his injuries - it was as if he didn't feel them at all. He stared at me calculatingly for a couple of moments before hurling an enormous sphere of fire at me, one that I barely managed to avoid by throwing myself to the ground. While he was in the process of creating another, I leapt to my feet, and, fueled by hatred, vengeance, and adrenalin, I literally threw myself against the man, exerting enough force to knock him onto his back and to disrupt his spell. I was vaguely aware of yelling something as, with my free hand, I ripped through the crude stitches in the Briarheart's chest and tore out his 'heart', watching the 'life' fade from his features in complete silence.

And the silence remained.

Then what I had just done finally registered in my mind, and the anger and adrenalin faded, leaving me broken, soaked, and bloody. The briarheart was still clenched tightly in my hand, and in a weak display of disgust, I chucked the plant as far as I could manage - which wasn't very far. My hands were stained red, with the blood of the Forsworn and doubtless with some of my own, and possibly even -

Gods, no.

Fear and self-loathing settled in my chest as I frantically forced myself into a standing position, sheer agony racking my left side and shoulder as I did so. Only now did my numbness fade, and I nearly screamed as pain from wounds I hadn't even known I had forced me back onto my knees, my vision wavering as I fell. It was only now I realized that I had not only been stabbed in the side, but I also had a deep, nasty-looking gash in my shoulder, and, seeing as I barely even felt my left arm at all, the muscles and even bone in that shoulder had been damaged as well.

But my terror at the thought of the demise of another friend overrode my sense of self-preservation, and I forced myself to get to my feet and stay up, gritting my teeth as tears sprang to my eyes as I moved and pressing my good arm against my side in an attempt to staunch the flow of blood, as well as to try and keep it from causing me more pain - neither of which worked particularly well. I was in the process of steeling myself to turn around when my fears were suddenly alleviated.

"Helvia? What was that?" I started at the sound of Helgír's voice, which had come from somewhere out of my field of sight, instantly regretting that movement as a fresh wave of pain overcame me.

Wherever he was, Helgír clearly had caught the fact that I was wounded, as his tone quickly changed from bewildered and slightly fearful to concerned, "Wait, you're hurt-"

"Stop," I commanded forcefully, though my voice had a hollow sound to it as I turned to look at him, and it pained me to see the concern, confusion and fear in his features, "Don't come near me!"

"I - what? I don't understand-" The Dragonborn exclaimed incredulously, his expression conflicted as he stared at me, and in that moment I found myself unable to look at him any longer as a wave of shame and loathing came over me.

Suddenly, my legs gave out from under me, and I let myself fall to my knees, my palms hitting snow and staining it red as an empty, sob wracked my body; tears were falling freely from my eyes now as a feeling of shame, loss, and complete and utter emptiness overcame me. Even though I'd fallen, it felt as if there was nothing underneath me - but I couldn't find the strength or motivation to care. I was cold - freezing, actually - , but felt as if, in a way, I deserved it. I deserved this. I was the reason we'd ended up in this mess in the first place, and I had failed to protect one of the two people in my life I cared about the most-

That train of thought was interrupted quite abruptly as I felt someone rest a hand on my uninjured shoulder, and, starting in surprise, I realized that, despite my warnings, the Dragonborn was kneeling beside me, seeming anything but scared of me, like he should be. Rather than fear, the look in his eyes was one of grief, but also one of understanding. It was then I realized he experienced situations similar to this, considering what had happened on the way up to High Hrothgar - when it came to not being in control of my own abilities, it seemed I was not alone. I allowed myself to collapse against him, my thoughts and feelings so strong and disjointed that I found myself unable to focus on anything else.

After a few seconds, I became vaguely aware of Helgír getting back to his feet, and, as he moved, I found myself unable to stay upright. I slid to the ground, my senses dulled and my consciousness fading slightly as I wondered why the Dragonborn had moved. For a moment, a ridiculous worry that he had left without me surfaced in my thoughts, but it was quickly dispelled by his return, an all-too-familiar off-pink colored phial visible in one of his hands. I attempted to push myself back up off of the ground, but was largely unsuccessful in doing so on my own; my remaining companion carefully propped me up in something that remotely resembled a sitting position and wordlessly handed me the clay vessel, which I accepted and proceeded to drink almost mechanically. For once, the potion didn't taste disgusting to me - in fact, it didn't taste like anything at all -, and, although I didn't feel any differently, my injuries at least seemed to have healed enough that they were no longer life-threatening. However, how I felt was the furthest thing from my mind as the reality of what had happened over the course of the past few minutes finally sank in.

I had just killed several human beings in cold blood, and, not only that, I didn't even feel bad about it. There was a dim feeling of satisfaction at their deaths that lingered deep within my chest, and it disgusted me. How could I feel even remotely happy about killing people, even if they had killed someone I cared about dearly?

"I am abhorrent," I declared suddenly and bitterly, my voice hoarse as I asked Helgír, "How can you even stand to be anywhere near me, after seeing what I've done?"

"No, no - Helvia, don't even say things like that. I know, it's difficult not to think those things, but none of this was your fault. You weren't in control of yourself - you are now, but you weren't then. And, trust me, I know what losing control feels like. I doubt you've forgotten just how poorly I managed my dovah qualities up until this point? And, as it is, I'm still not entirely certain I even know enough about them that I'll be able to hold any sort of power over them the next time I am pressed to use my abilities in a dangerous situation, or the next time I consume a dragon's soul. And yet, you have not called me detestable or unstable, and have remained a true friend and companion to me, which is something I will not so easily forget. I don't know what it is in particular you're dealing with right now, but I can promise you this: I am not afraid of you, nor will I ever be. And I will do whatever is in my power to help you see that you are not to blame for any of this," my companion finished, his expression determined but slightly worried as he spoke. He had moved back into my field of vision during his short speech, and was now kneeling in the cold snow in front of me, his hands gripping my shoulders more tightly than was necessary.

It took me a moment to process everything Helgír had said, but, when I finally did, gratitude and uncertainty flooded my mind, as, while it was reassuring to know that the only friend I had left in the world was not as disgusted with me as I was with myself, I was still not entirely convinced that I was a safe person to be around. And Helgír was wrong about one thing: I had plenty to do with this situation - I was, ultimately, the reason behind why Nightbrook was dead. He had died saving me from my own stupidity, and my life for his was hardly a trade worth making.

The Dragonborn seemed to have read my thoughts, as, when I didn't respond, he added quite suddenly in an irate tone, "And don't you dare blame yourself for the thief's death. He made his own decision, and he knew what he was doing when he stepped in front of that Forsworn bowman. While I understand your grief at his passing, and I myself am saddened by his rather surprising and untimely demise, there was nothing we could do about it, and you should not feel responsible for a choice someone else made for themselves. Had I been in his position, I likely would've reacted similarly, but it would have been a decision I reached by my own volition. Making yourself responsible for an outcome you did not directly cause isn't going to bring him back; you're just going to weigh yourself down, and that isn't what he - or I - would want for you."

"...I suppose you are right, but that doesn't change the fact that if I'd never left High Rock in the first place, I wouldn't have caused you so much trouble, and Nightbrook wouldn't be -"

"Helvia," Helgír sighed, sounding slightly exasperated as he continued, "You completely missed my point. Did I not just tell you that you are not directly responsible for any of what transpired today? If you must blame someone, then I think it's more than obvious that the blame ought to go to the Forsworn for being so hellbent on tracking you down in the first place. And they certainly got what they deserved for threatening you and killing the thief."

"You're right. They did," I replied, feeling something within my chest clench angrily at the mention of the Forsworn, "What happened today won't be much of a setback for them, though."

"That is true, but it will also give them a very clear warning. They've just made themselves a couple of powerful enemies," the Dragonborn remarked grimly, and then he suddenly got to his feet, offering me a hand once he was standing, "And we're going to show them just how terrible of a mistake they've just made, won't we?"

I accepted his hand and he pulled me up easily, and, looking him right in the eyes, I nodded, feeling the sizzling flames of vengeance kindle in my being, "We certainly will."

~~~~~

The remainder of the descent from High Hrothgar was uneventful and somber, and, after our initial burst of conversation, Helgír and I said very little to one another as we continued down that blighted narrow, ancient path. I was stuck in an odd, contradictory state between numb exhaustion and restless agony thanks to the horrible chain of events that had occurred that day, and the knowledge that I was soon to part ways with my only remaining friend in the world made my current situation even worse. But, in a way, I might actually be doing Helgír a favor by not traveling with him any longer, as I doubted that the Forsworn would be as likely to pose a threat to him if I was not around. However, once we reached Ivarstead, I would be completely on my own, and I was still at least a week's journey away from Winterhold. I had not foreseen that the path to my once simple dream would be so convoluted and dangerous, and I was beginning to question my capability to fulfill it at all. And, despite Helgír's sound and reasonable 'pep talk', Nightbrook's death weighed heavily upon me. I should have been the one who died on that mountain.

But, seeing as I hadn't, I had unfinished business with my brother and the Forsworn - though, while I was grieving, I wasn't foolish; I was not going to attempt to raise any sort of resistance or retaliate against them until I was powerful enough to do so. Eventually, I would strike back, and either make him and the Reachmen pay, or die trying.

I finally resurfaced from my turbulent and uncommonly dark train of thought as dusk was just beginning to fall, and, looking around, I caught sight of the humble stone bridge that led to Ivarstead. Though it was still a decent distance away, I got the feeling that, once we crossed that bridge, it would be the closing of one chapter of my life. And I wasn't sure what to think about that, as, if I was being honest with myself, I had no idea who or what I would be facing, and I would be entirely on my own. Part of me wanted to cling to my memories of the past, but tragedy and grief overshadowed any fondness I'd felt when recounting the events of the previous couple of weeks. A larger part of me, however, had already accepted that the past could not be repeated, and that the only thing to do now was to keep going, as long as I had something to work towards or believe in. And I had just been given a rather hefty motive.

The weather had finally cleared up as well, as, after I'd had that 'outburst' higher up on the mountain, I had not only used magic beyond my current abilities, but had also managed to cause a legitimate thunderstorm on the mountain. It had died down to a harmless but unpleasant downpour not long after I'd killed the Briarheart, but the rain had lingered, and even now, it was still coming down in a light drizzle, despite the fact that the clouds had lightened considerably and had begun to disperse. My surroundings were dark, dulled, and dismal, which, while gloomy, seemed to be a perfect setting, considering the occasion. However, signs of civilization began to become more prominent as the bridge drew ever nearer, the path below us changing from ancient stone and earth to a well-maintained - albeit narrow - dirt road, and, as the Dragonborn and I reached the bridge, and began to cross it, I could now easily see the farms and the inn that, together, made up the quaint and cozy village of Ivarstead. A a few of the locals seemed to have lit their lanterns despite the weather, and I could faintly see the sputtering of a few small lights attempting to remain lit in spite of their damp, chilly surroundings. No one aside from my companion and I were outside at this time, however, and the place felt almost deserted, considering its mild liveliness that I had experienced when we had first passed through the town.

All too soon, I found myself just a few paces away from Vilemyr Inn, my satchel and Nightbrook's surprisingly small bag - which, after a quick and somber discussion, the Dragonborn and I had decided would be better left with me - by my side as I looked towards the adventurer who was now my former companion. We would be parting ways here, and, as I did not want for our travels with one another to end on such a bitter, unhappy note, I attempted to say something, anything, in farewell, but nothing came to me.

It would turn out, however, that I wouldn't have to come up with something, after all. Helgír had turned to face me and was now looking at me with concern and a hint of regret, and I noticed that he seemed conflicted about something - and I had a feeling it had to do with us going our separate ways. That conclusion turned out to be quite accurate, as Helgír asked suddenly, "Are you sure this is the right time for us to go through with this? ... Heading to Kolbjorn Barrow isn't an incredibly urgent task, and I could-"

"No," I cut him off firmly, "You have important things to do, as do I. And you needn't make things more difficult for yourself in the long run for my sake. While I appreciate your offer, we should stick to our original plan. Mundus and the lives of everyone on it are more important than my emotional state."

"I... Are you sure you'll be all right, though?" Helgír persisted stubbornly, "I just - It feels like a horrible thing to just leave you at a time like this."

"I'll be fine, Helgír." I'll have to be.

"I respect your decision, but that still doesn't make me feel any worse about all of this," my companion sighed, seeming too worn down to try and argue further. It was now I truly realized how exhausted he looked. The day had taken a heavy toll on us both, it seemed.

"You're doing the right thing... But I'm going to miss you. I hope we will see each other again, Helgír. Just... look after yourself, and stay safe, all right? Please," I replied, my voice cracking slightly as I added in a tone that was more emotional than I would've liked it to be, "I don't want to end up losing you, too-"

As I had been speaking, Helgír had moved somewhat closer to me, and, quite suddenly, he drew me into a tight embrace, and this action stunned me into silence. After a brief moment of confusion, I returned the gesture, clinging to my old friend almost desperately, as I knew that, soon, I would lose him, although not in the same way I'd lost Nightbrook. But it almost felt the same, and it was worse in the sense that I had no idea what would befall him once we split off from one another.

"You're not going to," the Dragonborn responded fiercely, "And, by the Nine, I'd better not lose you, either. We're going to get through this, even though we'll have to do so on our own. We're both going to get through this, and, after this is all over, we will meet again. I swear it. Until that day, however, I wish you all the luck in the world, and - if you still plan on going there - a safe passage to Winterhold."

"Thank you," I replied at last, finally pulling away and giving him a forced smile as I continued, "And I wish the same for you in your fight against the dragons. If there's anyone who can to find out why they're coming back and come up with a way to stop them, it'd be you."

Helgír gave a tired-looking half smile at this, and, after a slight lull in the conversation, he quite abruptly and decidedly announced, "Well, I'd best get going before there's no light left to travel by at all. Until we meet again, Helvia."

I forced a smile in response and gave him a brief, half-hearted wave, "Right. Safe travels."

A part of me berated myself for such a lame, casual sounding reply at a time such as this, but, at the moment, it was all I could really manage without breaking down. And the last thing I wanted was for Helgír to feel guilty about fulfilling whatever task the Greybeards had sent him out to do. And, luckily, I managed to hold myself together well enough, as, after giving me one last, long look, the Dragonborn hoisted himself onto his horse's back, and, with that, they set off at a brisk trot down the simple dirt path, headed towards Ustengrav and whatever else the gods had in store for him. I watched him go for a few minutes in complete silence, and only set about picking up my belongings once he and Snjall had passed out of sight completely.

Once they were well and truly gone, I slung my satchel over one of my shoulders and grabbed one of the straps on Nightbrook's smaller-sized pack, and, once I'd gathered up both of those items, I climbed up the short set of stairs to the inn, and, as I did so, I felt the spark of vengeance I'd gained from earlier in the day expand into a fiery kind of determination, the likes of which I'd not experienced before, but it was by no means unwelcome. In fact, this feeling gave me a purpose, and a reason to keep going.

I was going to go to Winterhold to become more adept at using magic, and nothing was going to stop me from reaching the College. And, once I became powerful enough, I was going to find my pathetic excuse of a brother and send his ass to Oblivion.

____________________________________________________________________________________

Well, it looks like Helvia's on her own from here on out. Although I must say, I highly doubt she'll reach Winterhold without making a few new acquaintances or even friends on the way there. We'll just have to see, won't we? (:

But, yes, I'm afraid Helgír, for the time being, will no longer be present in Mage and its storyline - although I can promise he will appear again. Perhaps when I finish off some of my ongoing fanfictions, I'll write something up from his point of view.

~~~~~

QUESTIONS:

Question (From sweetrollstealer to Mélisande): What exactly did you write in your old journal?

Answer (By Mélisande): *vaguely* Well... I wrote about a lot of things. There was some... personal information within that journal, and... uh, I may have tried my hand at writing a few short pieces of ... romantic fiction... But you don't need to know about any of that trust me old Nighty probably got worked up over something else! *nervous laughter*

Question (From darceybrinker to Helgír): Why did you all of a sudden start getting along with Nightbrook? And what do you have to say about his recent sacrifice?

Answer (By Helgír): While I still don't agree with the occupation he decided to take up, we had an... enlightening conversation up on High Hrothgar after that incident concerning Helvia's ancestor's journal. He was a good person, albeit a very flawed one. And I am certainly sorrowed by his demise - although we were not particularly close. His was an honorable and heroic death, at least.

Question (From darceybrinker to Helvia): If the situation were reversed, would you take an arrow to the chest to save Nightbrook?

Answer (By Helvia): Do you even have to ask that? He shouldn't have done what he did - my life was not worth his - , and, if things were reversed, I wouldn't hesitate to protect someone I care - cared - about.

Question (from themainidea to Mél): what was in the journal, I mean, what would've made Nightbrook react like that?

Answer (By Mél): Still curious, huh? *nervous shifting* Fine, fine, all right. I think I have an idea of what he probably saw that made him react like that. You know how I mentioned I attempted to write some romance centric fiction? Well... He might've found one particular short story that involved me, the Imperial City's captain of the guard, and him. ...I'd rather not go into any more detail.

Question (From jordanmccombs03 to Helvia): If you could trade your life for Nightbrook to be alive, would you do it? I mean, that's what he did for you.

Answer (By Helvia): Of course I would. Aside from being one of my best and closest friends, he would've been far better equipped to deal with the current world state than I am. It would only make sense to make such a trade, if it were possible.

Question (from SparrowsFlight to Helvia): What do you think of the sacrifice Nightbrook made for you, although incredibly painful?

Answer (By Helvia): By the gods, he shouldn't have done it. I don't know what he was thinking - I'm sorry, I - I really don't think I can talk about this right now -

Question (from bagofplastic to Helvia): Helvia, what is your honest opinion on parting with Helgír later on? And if you could deter him from leaving as it were, would you?

Answer (By Helvia): Honestly, I feel a bit lost without him already, but parting ways was a necessary course of action to take. And I can't afford to waste time regretting making the right choice, even if it has a somewhat negative effect on me for choosing it.

Question (From TheBlackMask to "the Foresworn who shot my babe"): WHY THE HELL WOULD YOU DO THAT TO MY HEART?

Answer (By The Foresworn Who Shot TheBlackMask's Babe): *whispers from the Void* Because I cannnnnn~

~~~~~

If anyone has any more questions for anyone in Mage, feel free to ask them! If they've appeared in Mage at all, regardless of how long they were a part of the story, they're open to ask questions!

Well, as always, please do leave a vote and/or comment if you enjoyed the chapter, and see you next time! Good adventuring, dear readers!

-AA