Blackfeather Woods on letting go

He knew that he did not need to spend many words on Atshen. He was a simple boy in that he only had one interest: killing. A fine trait to have in the Brotherhood, but it was clear that he would only be restrained to the assassin's trade. He lacked the finesse in words and mental capacity to be a priest or a spy. He did not degrade Atshen for this; it was not his fault, after all. But he spoke with grandeur mostly for those who may be listening, who would better understand what Miraak meant.

Atshen shook his head, prompting the shade to lean in close, his hot breath hissing through gritted teeth as he levelly spoke. My grandnieces and nephews are not to be touched, The newest Melonii pups were not completely off limits; once they were old enough to fight, perhaps. But now, helpless and innocent, they were precious. Miraak would not see them harmed until they could harm others. Not now,