Chapter Text

I

Denying Destiny 

When misrule takes its place at the eight corners of the world

When the Brass Tower walks and Time is reshaped

When the thrice-blessed fail and the Red Tower trembles

When the Dragonborn Ruler loses his throne, and the White Tower falls

When the Snow Tower lies sundered, kingless, bleeding

The World-Eater wakes, and the Wheel turns upon the Last Dragonborn.

• The Great Prophecy of the Dovahkiin. 

10th of Last Seed 4E201  

I hold my breath as I sneak down the hallway, past the room my Ma and Da share. They've been asleep for hours, but I can't risk them waking up and stopping me. Not tonight. 

My grandmother's door is open, and the oil lamp on her bedside table is still burning, but she's deeply asleep at her desk. No doubt she fell asleep while researching more of the Lore and Prophecies she's always spouting off.  I love her, but I can't stay here any longer; between her Prophecies and my Father's pride it's just unbearable. 

The door shuts silently behind me, but it might as well have slammed for all the finality of the act. 

Our house used to be one of the fanciest in town, but that was before I can remember. Before Gwynabyth.  I shake the dark thoughts away and hurry across the scraggly lawn to the rundown stables.  

The old spotted gelding I learned to ride on, Theodore, is awake in his stall, gnawing on the wooden beams.  I bat him affectionately on his nose. "Theo, you're not supposed to chew the wood," I admonish in a whisper. He nips my shoulder and immediately turns back to the beam. 

"No, no, come on. We're going for a ride."

He huffs impatiently at me, but lets me pull the bridle over his head. I get the saddle adjusted and then pull my traveling pack out of the hay bale I'd hidden it in last week.  

I'm going to find adventure. It's not the life my family has planned for me but I just can't live up to their expectations.  I'm not destined for greatness, my life is not tied to the turning of worlds or the fulfillment of Prophecies. 

I hide my hair under a cowl, it's red-bronze shine will only serve to immediately identify me as a Copperhart. Even if I don't want to have this destiny forced upon me, I also don't want to cause my family more pain in the form of deeper scrutiny. 

I feed Theodore an apple and walk him through the gate before swinging myself up onto the saddle. 

16th of Last Seed 4E201  

I've been in the woods for almost a week now, I know I'm in Cyrodiil, close to the Skyrim border. But finding a pass through the mountains without a map has proven to be more difficult than I was expecting.

It started snowing last night but I was at least prepared for that and brought plenty of blankets. I have my bow and a quiver of iron arrows, but there hasn't been any game to shoot. Hopefully once I'm over the border I'll be able to find an inn of some kind. I don't regret leaving in the slightest, but sleeping on the cold, hard ground is getting old. 

I pick a tree and tether Theodore to it before setting up a quick camp. The meager fire I manage to coax out of some frozen branches takes a while to heat the last of my stew so I munch on some bread and cheese in the meantime. 

Once I've eaten and fed Theodore, I stomp out the flames. I'm hoping sleeping above the ground will be slightly warmer and so I climb into the tree above my horse as the last of the sun's rays fade between the branches.

17th of Last Seed 4E201

I wake up to voices and loud crashing as a group of people walk through the forest, not ten feet from my camp. They're wearing blue curisasses, with fur lined boots and helmets. I hold my breath and remain still, I haven't seen clothes like that before but they're certainly not Imperials, which means they're probably not supposed to be out here. The group moves on, but I wait for several minutes before climbing down- only to realize that Theodore is not there. The tether is still tight around the tree, but about two feet down, it's clearly been chewed through. 

"Oh, Theodore..." I groan. 

I pack up my camp, leaving the useless, chewed tether and head off into the woods, tracking the hoof prints in the snow. 

 Only a few minutes later, I sense something being off a second too late, and find myself surrounded by Imperial soldiers. 

"What business do you have here?" One of them demands, his sword angled at my chest.

"Just an adventurer," I reply calmly, deciding to not mention my wayward horse. 

"We're looking for a group of Stormcloak rebels, have you seen anyone else in the woods?" 

I think of the men I'd seen earlier, "Actually, yeah, a group of men wearing blue went that way just a minute ago," I say, and turn to point in the correct direction.  I hear snickering and then a second later, something heavy hits the back of my head and everything goes black. 

I wake up in a moving cart, with a pounding headache that worsens with each rut and rock we drive over. I slowly open my eyes and look around. One of the blue-clad men from the forest is sitting directly in front of me with his hands bound in front of him. I test my own wrists and find them tightly wrapped in leather straps. Next to me is another man, he's also dressed in blue but his clothes look much finer. He must be important, because he's also gagged. Across from him is a small, dark skinned man wearing similarly worn clothes as mine. 

The man in front of me speaks up, "Hey you, you're finally awake. You were trying to cross the border, right? Walked right into that Imperial ambush. Same as us, and that thief over there." He jerks his head towards the other man who glares back at him.

"Damn you Stormcloaks. The Empire used to be nice and lazy. If they hadn't been looking for you, I'd have been able to steal that horse and be halfway to Hammerfell by now." He shakes his head and looks over at me.  "You there, you and me, we shouldn't be here. It's the Stormcloaks the empire wants. I'm Lokir." 

I nod once in acknowledgment, I don't know that I want to be associated with a horse thief anymore than I do with these so called rebels. 

"We're all brothers and sisters in binds now." The man in front of me snips. "I'm Rolaf, of Riverwood."

I look around at them, I guess there's no harm in sharing my name. "I'm Anya, of Highrock."

"A Breton! We don't see many of those these days," Rolaf exclaims.

"Shut up back there!" The soldier driving the cart yells. 

We're all quiet for a few minutes, until Lokir jerks his head at the other man, the one with a strip of cloth gagging him. "What's wrong with him ?"

Rolaf straightens in his seat, "Watch your tongue! You're speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true high king of Skyrim!" 

"Ulfric? The Jarl of Windhelm? But, if they've captured you… where are they taking us?!" Lokir asks, panic seeping into his voice.

"I don't know where we're going, but Sovengarded awaits." Rolaf replies, more soberly. 

I realize what's likely waiting for me at the end of this cart ride a second before Lokir does.

"No… this can't be happening! Why is this happening?" 

I don't cry out, I should have known this foolish desire for adventure would somehow end like this. The greatness in our family died out with my sister Gwynabyth and ever since then we've been cursed. The memory of her hurts, like a white hot prong being forced into my brain. She was the great one, the one who did things for others, who was involved in the community. I'm the honorless child, who abandoned her family in the dead of night, trying to escape a gods-given destiny. And now I will die, in a strange land with no one to mourn my passing. It's fitting.

Rolaf speaks up again and distracts me from my morose thoughts. "Hey, what village are you from, horse-thief?" 

Lokir makes a face at him. "Why do you care?"

Rolaf just gives him a long look, "A Nord's last thoughts should be of home."

Lokir is quiet for a minute, then whispers, "Rorikstead. I'm from Rorikstead."

My last thoughts will be of my sister. She was executed too, after enduring a week of torture at the hands of another "noble" family of Highrock. I was only a young girl at the time, we were ten years apart, but I can remember the way she looked; limping up to the block, her skin more black and blue than the golden tan it used to be, and her beautiful blonde hair shaved off.  

"General Tullius, sir! The headsman is waiting." A guard's shout shakes me from my thoughts and I look around. We've reached a village, and are passing through a stone wall with a wooden gate.

"Good, let's get this over with." Another man replies.

"Shor. Mara. Dibella. Kynareth. Akatosh. Divines!  Help me!" Lokir starts chanting. I force myself to not snap at him, the gods won't do anything. They've abandoned this realm.

"Look at that. General Tullius. Skyrim's military governor, and it looks like the Thalmor are with him. Damn elves. I bet they had something to do with this." Rolaf mutters as we pass a group of Altmer standing near a man in a fancy Imperial cuirass.  He looks around the village, "This is Helgen… I used to be sweet on a girl from here." 

I try to block him out but he continues on.  

"I wonder if Eilod is still making that mead with juniper berries mixed in," Rolaf rambles as he stares around the city.

Lokir continues his own muttering to the deaf gods, but it's Ulfric who catches my eye. He's just staring straight ahead, taking the whole high king thing a little too seriously if you ask me. 

"Funny… When I was a boy, the Imperial walls and towers used to make me feel so safe…" Ralof comments as the carts roll into a courtyard.p

A female voice shouts, "Stop the carts!" As we jerk to a stop, Lokir's head jerks up, "Why are we stopping?!" He demands.

Rolaf stands up in the cart. "Why do you think? End of the line…" 

I swallow hard, my legs feel like lead under me and even as Ulfric and Lokir stand up, I remain sitting. 

Rolaf gives me a sympathetic look, "Let's go, shouldn't keep the guards waiting for us." 

I slowly get to my feet and face the end of the cart.

"No! Wait, we're not rebels!" Lokir shouts as he catches sight of the execution block. 

Rolaf sighs in exasperation. "Face your death with some courage, thief." 

Lokir doesn't listen to him, "You've got to tell them! We weren't with you, this is a mistake!"

A woman in Imperial armor stands next to a man with brown hair, who looks similar to Rolaf. "Step forward to the block when we call your name, one at a time!" She shouts. 

"Empire loves their damn lists." Rolaf grumbles as he gets down from the cart. I jump down after him and stand in the back of the group. A second cart next to us is finishing unloading as well, I see the other rebels I'd seen in the forest.  

The man with brown hair holds up a plank with a piece of paper on it. "Ulfric Stormcloak. Jarl of Windhelm." 

Ulfric walks forward, past the woman, with his head held high. 

"It has been an honor, Jarl Ulfric," Ralof says humbly.

"Ralof of Riverwood." The man calls out next. Ralof also walks with his head held high. At least they'll die with their honor. 

"Lokir of Rorikstead." 

Lokir looks around, shaking his head. "No! I'm not a rebel, you can't do this!" He cries, and then takes off running down the path. 

"Halt!" The woman shouts. 

"You're not going to kill me!" Lokir shouts back as he sprints for the gate.

"Archers!" She yells. Bow strings go taut, and then Lokir falls, with three arrows buried in his spine, and one going through his neck.

"Anyone else feel like running?" The woman asks haughtily. 

I decide I don't like her. 

The man looks at me, frowns, and looks at his list, then looks at me again. "You there. Step forward. Who are you?"

I take a step forward and look him in the eye. "Anya Copperhart, of Highrock."

"Escaping court intrigue, Breton?" He asks me, but I don't answer.  "Captain, what do we do? She's not on the list." He asks the lady. 

She looks at me and sneers. "Forget the list. She goes to the block."

He gives her a tense look, but doesn't argue. "By your orders, Captain."  He turns back to me, "I'm sorry. We'll make sure your remains are returned to Highrock. Follow the Captain, prisoner." 

I wonder if they'll actually return my body. Probably not, since they clearly have no reason to be executing me. They'll likely burn all our bodies and then spread the ashes in an undisclosed location. I join the line of people in front of the block, but watch as a group of soldiers walk out into the road and pick up Lokir's body. 

The man Ralof pointed out to me as the General steps in front of Ulfric, but I get the distinct impression that he would not do so if the man wasn't bound and gagged. 

"Ulfric Stormcloak. Some here in Helgen call you a hero. But a hero doesn't use a power like The Voice to murder his King and usurp his throne."

Shock hits me. The Voice? How could I possibly have run from all these superstitions, only to wind up dying with them? 

Ulfric just grunts and juts out his chin. Malice shines in his eyes, but the general takes another step closer. "You started this war, plunged Skyrim into chaos. And now the empire is going to put you down, and restore the peace!"

A few of the Imperial soldiers clap, someone whistles, but then I hear something else. An echoing roar that pierces my very soul. Something stirs within me in answer, a longing but also a deep rooted terror. 

"What was that?" Someone asks.

The general waves his hand in dismissal. "It's nothing. Carry on."

"Yes, General Tullius. Give them their last rights," the Captain responds with a salute. 

A priestess, wrapped in a weird golden shroud steps forward. "As we commend your souls to Atherius, blessings of the eight divines upon you…" 

I roll my eyes, but one of the other men steps up."For the love of Talos. Shut up, and let's get this over with." 

"As you wish," the priestess replies, clearly miffed. 

I vaguely remember learning something about the worship of Talos having been banned in Skyrim from my father years ago, but can't remember much more than that.

"Come on! I haven't got all morning!" The man snaps. 

The captain shoves him to his knees, and then uses her boot to push him the rest of the way onto the block. 

"My ancestors are smiling at me, Imperials. Can you say the same?" He asks. 

The executioner lifts the axe, and then lets it fall. The man's head lands on the ground with a sickening thump, and then rolls away.

"You Imperial bastards!" One of the female rebels from the other cart cries out. 

"Justice!" Another of them shouts.

"Death to the Stormcloaks!" The Captain snaps.

"Ah, Brokvir. As fearless in death, as he was in life…" Ralof whispers. 

The Captain faces me, "Next! The Breton!" 

Fear shoots through me, but it occurs to me that it would be far easier to go now, rather than watching everyone else go ahead of me. I take a step forward, when that awful roar comes again. It's louder this time, and I swear I feel my bones themselves quake.

"There it is again," the man with the list exclaims. 

"Did you hear that?" Ralof asks me. 

The Captain interrupts before I can answer. "I said, next prisoner!"

The man looks over at me and motions me forward, "To the block, prisoner. Nice and easy."

I walk forward, my feet moving against my will. I wonder if it would have been better to make a run for it and die with an arrow in my back like Lokir, but I will face this with whatever honor I have left. At least now my Da can stop with the prophecy nonsense, and Ma can stop worrying. I'll be in the ground, with Gwynabyth. I face the Captain, there is nothing but hate in her eyes and I wonder for just a second what must have happened in her life to make her hate someone she doesn't even know. I turn towards the block, and she shoves me to my knees, and then I feel her boot on my back and I fall forward, my neck lining up with the block perfectly. The blood of the soldier before me is still warm and sticky and I can see the top of his head out of the corner of my eye.  That awful roar comes again, and my soul roars back in answer, but there's nothing to be done. I stare up at my executioner, and he stares right back. He must have done this hundreds of times, to look so indifferent even as another man's blood splatters his cloak. He raises the ax above his head but I'm not looking at him anymore as something worse, something even more horrifying catches my eye. A black, winged shape, flying faster than anything I've ever seen, circles the mountain to the north and then dips towards town.

People start shouting as they catch glimpses of it. "It's in the clouds!" Someone yells.

"Sentries, what do you see?!" The Captain shouts above the noise but no one answers.

"What in Oblivion is that ?!" General Tullius exclaims, 

The dragon, for that is the only thing such a creature could be, flies into the village, and lands on the tower directly in front of us. The executioner gets knocked to the ground by the shockwave of its landing, his axe landing blade down on the edge of the block, inches from my face.

"Dragon!" The Captain screams. 

The beast roars again, but this time I can hear the words in it, and... I can understand them. But as soon as I recognize the words, they've slipped from my mind, like wisps of smoke. Hell breaks loose with the Dragon's shout, the building behind us is destroyed and flaming chunks of rock rain down around us. Another shout and my body is thrown from the block. I struggle to get my bound hands under my body and rise. Ralof is in front of me, crouching down and scanning the sky. 

"Come on, Breton! The gods won't give us another chance!" He exclaims. 

I manage to get my feet beneath me and stumble after him as balls of fire start raining down from the sky in a storm that formed with the dragon's shout. An explosion rocks me forward, and the body of an Imperial Soldier lands in front of me. I freeze in my tracks and stare, he was young, maybe not even fully grown. Blood trickles from his nose, his ears, his mouth and I have to swallow back bile. 

"Come on, we've got to get inside!" Ralof yells. 

I tear my gaze from the young man's face and run into the tower Ralof is pointing to. There's two other stormcloak soldiers in the corner, one of them is bleeding horribly from his leg while the other one tries to bandage it. 

"Jarl Ulfric, what is that thing? Could the legends be true?" Ralof asks as Ulfric slams the door shut behind us. 

"Legends don't burn down villages." 

His voice is low, and would be almost soothing, if it didn't also hold the promise of death. 

"We need to move, now! Up through the tower, let's go!" Ralof shouts as the dragon roars again.

I follow him up the winding stairs, focused entirely on not tripping over the stones. The building shudders and I stumble to the side, almost falling backwards, as a section of the wall explodes in towards us. Ralof falls back a few steps as a chunk of stone hits him square in the chest. He catches himself just before he falls off the edge. 

I turn back towards the wall and freeze in my steps. The dragon is on the other side of the hole, I recognize the intelligence in its eyes as I meet its gaze.

"Dovahkiin." I think I hear him say, but when his jaws open again, a burst of flame erupts. I stumble backwards, the heat singing my skin and burning my lungs as I gasp. Ralof catches me and pushes me back up the stairs as the dragon takes flight again. He doesn't show any signs of having heard the dragon speak to me. 

"Do you see the inn on the other side? Jump through the roof, and then keep going!" Ralof exclaims.

I start to shake my head, I can't go alone.

"Go! We'll follow when we can," he says and pushes me towards the hole. I rock back and forth on my feet, the jump would be formidable, even without bound hands. I take another deep breath and then launch myself out of the hole. I plummet through the burning roof, and then fall and roll along the floor before crashing into a support beam. I groan and weakly get back onto my feet, leaning against the support beam to catch my breath. I glance over my shoulder, but I can't see the tower through the smoke and flames. I give myself another few seconds, but then run for a gaping hole in the side of the building. Sitting on the edge of the hole before letting myself drop makes it far easier to stay on my feet this time. Chaos reigns as smoke and fire fill the air, blood splatters the ground and burning stone continues to fall to the earth with shaking booms.

"Hamming! You need to get over here, now!" A soldier yells at a young boy who's standing in the middle of the road between two burning houses. The boy stumbles, but then runs to the soldier, who pushes him towards a corner, where the smoke isn't as bad. I head that direction too, along with the soldier and another man. 

"Still alive, prisoner? Stay close to me if you want to stay that way," he commands as the dragon suddenly rises into the sky again. I recognize him then, as the man with the list. 

"Holdar, take care of the boy. I've got to find General Tullius and join the defense."

"God's guide you, Hadvar," the other man says, clutching the boy to his side. 

I follow after Hadvar as he runs into the town. 

"Stay close to that wall!" He shouts as we slip between a stone wall and yet another burning building. I follow his orders, and luckily too, as the dragon lands directly overhead, the spike on one of his wings puncturing the ground, not a foot in front of me. I edge around the wing as the dragon shouts again. The words sound like something I should know, but they're just out of my grasp. Like hearing someone tell you something important in a dream,  but when you wake up you can't quite remember what was said. The dragon takes flight and Hadvar leads me through a house whose roof has now been torn off. We make it into an open area, where Mages are firing blast after blast of fire, and soldiers bows twang with arrow after arrow, but even as the attacks hit the dragon, it doesn't appear to be affected. 

"Nothing harms it!" Someone screams. 

"How in Oblivion do we kill this thing?" An archer yells As we run past him. 

The dragon lands directly in front of the archer, but looks over at me. "Dovahkiin. Zu'u lost daal." My head aches at the words. Or maybe it's just the idea that a dragon is speaking to me. The archer fires an arrow that should have pierced directly through the dragon's eye, but the arrow splinters and the dragon doesn't even blink, instead he says, "Hin sil fen nahkip bahlocki." And then snaps his jaws around the archer and flings him to the side. 

I start backing away, but the dragon takes flight and heads back towards the tower he first landed on. I turn and run, Hadvar is already halfway across the courtyard. The Dragon's words echo through my mind as I sprint after Hadvar, but they're jumbled and just when I think I know what they mean, it disappears again. Hadvar flings his arm out to stop me as the Stormcloak soldiers I'd been in the tower with appear around a corner. 

"Ralof, you damned traitor! Stay out of my way!" Hadvar yells. 

Ralof pushes Ulfric behind himself and swings a sword that he must have picked up from a fallen soldier. 

“We're escaping Hadvar! You won't stop us this time!"

"Fine, I hope that dragon takes you all to Sovengard!" 

"You, come with me!" Ralof shouts, motioning towards me but I hesitate and he turns and runs without another word. 

"Come on! We've got to get inside!" Hadvar yells. I follow him into the keep. This building is still standing, and the ruckus outside is dulled slightly. 

"Looks like we're the only ones who made it… Was that really a dragon? The harbinger of the end times?" 

"I… yes. Yes, it is." I respond. 

"Was it… Was it talking? " He asks. 

"I don't know," I lie. Somehow, in the light of our current circumstances, being able to talk to dragons probably would not be seen as a good thing. 

"Well, we should keep moving. Come here and let me see if I can get those bindings off." I take a step forward and he pulls a dagger from his belt and saws through the leather. The bonds fall to the floor and I rub and flex my wrists.  

"There you go, take a look around, there should be some supplies somewhere. I'm going to see if I can find something for these burns." 

I glance down, and sure enough the skin above and around his bracers is red and shiny. 

I turn and walk towards some beds, there's an empty chest by one, and the other has three septims, and a small bottle of a healing potion. I circle the room, and another chest on the other side has an iron sword, and a full set of leather Imperial armor. I glance over my shoulder, but Hadvar isn't paying me any attention. I slip the ragged robes off and let them fall to the ground, then pull the armor over my head. I struggle with the straps a little, but manage to get them tightened. The helmet is a little big, but everything else fits well enough. The sword isn't perfectly balanced, but the craftsmanship is good and it'll do the job. I give it a few swings before sheathing it.

A table on the other end of the room has a magicka potion, another healing potion and some more septims. I stuff all of it into the pockets of the armor. 

"Let's keep moving, that thing is still out there." Hadvar says as he yanks on a chain next to a gated door. The door slides up, with rust shavings floating down to the ground. We make our way through the halls, to another gate. 

"We need to keep moving! That dragon is tearing up the whole keep!" Someone in the next room exclaims.

"Just give me a minute… I'm out of breath," a woman replies. 

"Hear that? Stormcloaks, maybe we can reason with them," Hadvar suggests. 

We walk into the room, and the Stormcloak soldiers draw their weapons immediately.

"Now hold on, we just want--" Hadvar starts but the man runs at him and swings the greatsword he picked up. "If you want to die, so be it!" 

"For Ulfric, and for Skyrim!" The girl shouts, and charges at me. I just barely get my sword up in time to block her hit, but then I step to the side and let her momentum carry her forward. I twirl the sword once, and then swing it in a wide arc, making a deep cut across her chest. She stumbles but charges at me again, I parry her blow and then drive my sword into her gut. She groans and drops her weapon as she falls. Hadvar turns to the door on the far side and pulls a key out of his pocket. The man who attacked him is laying on the ground, a deep slash going across his throat. I close my eyes and hurry after Hadvar. It was them or us. I tell myself firmly as Hadvar gets the door open. I check inside a barrel, and find a couple apples. I haven't eaten since the night before so bite into one, and stick the other into my pocket.

Hadvar leads us down the hall, the building rocks, and the section of wall directly in front of us collapses in. Hadvar just barely avoided being struck by the falling stone. "Damn, that dragon doesn't give up easily."

"What are you doing? We need to get out of Helgen, now!" A voice exclaims from the other side of a door. 

Hadvar opens the door and we run in. 

Two more Stormcloak soldiers are rooting through some barrels, but as soon as they hear us they turn around and charge. The one that charges me is using an iron Warhammer, which he had raised over his head with both hands. I brace myself and hold my sword out, he realizes what I'm doing a second to late, and impales himself on my blade. I have to yank on it several times to get it to come loose and by then Hadvar has also dealt with the other soldier. 

"Take a look around and see if you can find some potions. They could come in handy."

I find another magicka potion on a table and then three healing, and three stamina potions in a barrel. 

We run out through another door, and down a hallway. I can hear fighting up ahead, and the smell of sweat and blood hangs heavy in the air. 

Hadvar slows slightly. "The torture room, gods, I wish we didn't need these..." 

I stumble, and pain cleaves through my chest as the image of my sister, beaten to a near pulp and walking to her execution block flashes across my vision.

We charge into the fight, a man in Imperial armor with a hood is firing sparks around, and another man in Imperial armor is fighting with a Stormcloak. Hadvar jumps right in, but I hang back. 

The one in the hood exclaims, "You got here just in time! These boys seem to be a little upset about how I've been entertaining their comrades."

The Stormcloak soldier yells and charges at the man in the hood, but I beat him to it and drive my sword up through the man's chin and out through the top of his head without thinking. I drop the whole sword as the Stormcloak soldier falls under Hadvar's sword. I'm breathing hard, and for a minute it's all I can hear. I had moved without thinking, reacting as though the man had been the one to torture Gwynabyth. I walk slowly around the room, and pick up a different sword, along with an iron shield. There's a knapsack sitting on the table in the middle of the room, it has some more septims in it and a few lockpicks. A book is on the table, with a dragon embossed on the cover. I flip it open, The Book of the Dragonborn. I stuff it in the knapsack, although I know the contents by heart from my father reading it to us every morning.

"It looks like there's something in that cell. Here, see if you can get it open with these." Hadvar hands me a pile of lockpicks. It takes me a couple tries, but I get the lock open. The door creaks open, there's a magicka potion, some more septims and a Spell Tome to learn Sparks. I shove all of it into the knapsack and then follow after Hadvar. The other man comes with us too, as we run down another hall. 

"Where in Oblivion are we supposed to go? Where is the way out?!" Someone up ahead yells, clearly panicking. 

"Just give me a minute, and let me think!"

"Stormcloaks!" The other man

yells as we turn a corner into a cavern. The other man meets two of the soldiers head on while Hadvar and I run past to the archers on the other side of the cavern. Hadvar cuts one down, but the other gets a shot off. Burning pain shoots through my arm as the arrowhead buries into my shoulder. I drop my sword, and the girl readies another arrow. I expect it to go through my skull, but Hadvar reaches her just in time and slices her throat.  He helps me up and looks at the arrow. "Okay, it's not deep. I'll get it out on three, okay?"

I nod and hold my breath. 

"One… two--" Hadvar yanks the arrow from my arm. I yell as he lets it drop to the floor. "Three."

I groan and press my hand to my shoulder, it's already slick with blood. 

"Do you have a healing potion in that bag?" He asks.

I nod and drop the bag, then rifle through it with my good arm, get the stopper off with my teeth and then swallow the pale pink liquid. Warmth fills me, and I feel my skin knit itself back together. It tingles and itches, but after a few seconds I stand back up and throw the bag back over my shoulder before grabbing my sword again. 

"Alright, let's see if we can find a way out," Hadvar suggests as the other man joins us. 

"I'd better stay back, see if anyone else makes it out. Good luck to you two," he says.

I follow Hadvar down a tunnel, where he pushes a lever. A wooden bridge drops down and we sprint across it. No sooner do we get to the other side, than a chunk of the ceiling falls down and crushes the bridge. 

"Dammit, no going back that way. But I guess we're lucky that didn't come down on top of us." He looks around, we're in a cave now, with a stream running through it. "We better push on, I'm sure the others will find another way out." 

I follow him through the cavern but it ends in a cave-in. "Ah, that doesn't go anywhere."

"Here," I move towards a small tunnel that shoots off of the main path. We run down it, and come out in another, smaller cavern. This one is covered in spider webs, the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. I stop Hadvar as we reach the edge; I can see something moving in the dim light. 

"Spiders," I whisper in horror. But these aren't the spiders from home that you can crush under your boot. No, these are the size of a small child, with venom clearly dripping from their oversized fangs. 

"We'll take them together, okay?" Hadvar asks.

I nod and twirl my sword. We both charge as the spiders emerge from the shadows. There's three of them and the first two come directly at me, I drop the shield I'd grabbed and throw my hand out, sending fire towards the spiders as I swing my sword in and out of the flames. Just as we finish killing them, two more drop from the ceiling, these ones bigger than a full grown man. I shout as I swing my sword and bury it in one of their heads. Some of the venom drips onto my bare arm and burns, but I yank my sword back as Hadvar cuts the front legs off the other one, and then drives his sword in-between its head and thorax. 

"What's next? Giant snakes?" He asks. 

I hope he's joking. 

We run through another small tunnel which opens into a bigger cavern than the first one. The air smells fresher in here and I start to hope that we've found the way out after all. 

Hadvar stops suddenly and crouches down. I crouch with him, and peer into the gloom. 

"There's a bear just ahead, see her? I'd rather not tangle with her, we might be able to sneak by. Just take it nice and slow, and watch where you step. Or," he hands me an extra bow and quiver of iron arrows. "If you're feeling lucky, you can take this bow. Might be able to take her by surprise." 

I consider it, and then put the bow and arrows over my shoulder. No point in getting into unnecessary fights. 

"Go ahead, I'll follow your lead and watch your back," Hadvar says. I get the feeling that's not something he would do lightly. I lead us forward, easing along the far side of the wall, keeping one eye on the bear at all times. As soon as we circle around and are hidden behind a pillar, we hurry across the cavern. The air gets cleaner and cleaner the further we go and then there's a small opening in the rocks. I clamber up the rocks, and then hoist myself up. Hadvar gets himself up to the opening, and then I pull him through. We both fall to the rocky ground, taking deep breaths of the clean mountain air. It's cold still, but not snowing although I wouldn't care if it was- I'm so grateful to be in fresh air again. We get to our feet, just as a roar shakes the earth again. Not again, come on! I think desperately. 

Hadvar drags me behind an outcropping of rocks and we crouch down as the dragon from town flies overhead. He roars again, but then flies away from the town, we stay crouched behind the rocks, even after the dragon fades from view, to make sure he isn't coming back. "I think he's finally gone now." Hadvar says. 

We start walking down the path, heading towards a valley. "The closest town from here is Riverwood. My uncle is the blacksmith there, I'm sure he'd help us out." 

I nod, and we break into a jog down the path. "Listen, I wanted to say thank you for your help. I probably wouldn't have made it out, if it weren't for you."

I just shrug, I don't know what else there is to say.

“You should go to Solitude, and join up with the legion. We could use someone like you. If the rebels have themselves a dragon, General Tullius is the only one who can stop them."

I stare at Hadvar incredulously. "You really think I should join the Imperial Legion?"

Hadvar hesitates, "I know today wasn't the best introduction."

I scoff. 

"But yes, the legion could really use someone like you, especially now. I hope you'll give us another chance."

I don't reply, and he lets the topic drop. 

We run in silence, the sun is already starting to set and I'm sure he wants to reach the town he talked about before nightfall. 

After several minutes though, he pauses. I stop with him, and open a stamina potion. It tastes like spring, and the weariness from the impossibly long day washes away quickly. I hand him one of them and he drinks it in two gulps. "Thanks, you see that ruin up there?" He asks, pointing to the mountain rising in the distance. I can just barely make out the curves of an old ruin. 

"Bleak Falls Barrow, when I was a boy, that place always used to give me nightmares. Drauger creeping down the mountain and sneaking into my room at night, that kind of thing." He shudders at the thought, and I don't ask what a Drauger is as we resume jogging down the mountain. We turn down a hairpin curve, and come to another stop in front of a platform with three stones jutting up around the circle. The stones all have engravings on them, and I take a step closer to see what they say. 

"These are the Guardian Stones. Three of the thirteen standing stones that dot Skyrim's landscape. Go ahead and see for yourself, if you activate one, you can receive it's blessing." I walk slowly around the circle. The one on the left had an inscription blessing Thieves, the middle one was for Mages and the one on the right was for Warriors. I turn to the right, and run my hands over the inscription. The hole in the center of the stone starts to glow and a sparkling light surrounds me. I don't feel any different afterwards, but it didn't hurt anything to try. 

"A warrior huh? I knew I saw something in you." Hadvar comments as we resume our trek down the path. 

After awhile though, I have to slow to a walk. Even with the stamina potion, it's been a long day and I am tired.  

"We're almost there," Hadvar says.

I nod, staying silent. 

"Why did you leave Highrock?" He asks after awhile.

I hesitate, I can't tell him about the Prophecies. Dragons might have returned, and I might have felt something waking up inside me, but that doesn't mean I have to follow through on any of it. I shake my head, and realize Hadvar is still waiting for an answer. 

"Family issues. I wanted to be an adventurer, my father disapproved." It's a true enough statement. 

We walk in silence again, until I stop suddenly. I can hear something rustling nearby, and heavy, animalistic breathing coming from the ledge above us. I draw my sword and swing around just as a wolf jumps for Hadvar's exposed head. I swing my sword up, and the wolf's head falls to the ground, followed by its body a second later. For a second there's just the sound of our breathing mixed with the dripping of blood from my sword. 

I listen for any more animals, but I don't hear anything. 

Hadvar runs a shaking hand over the top of his head.

I feel like I should relieve the tension, but I don't know what to say. 

Finally, he exhales forcefully and continues walking, "I don't know how many more times I can brush death and stay on this side of it," he mutters. "You're pretty good with that sword though."

I shrug, "Highrock is not a peaceful place to live. My father wanted me to be able to protect myself. I'm a decent shot with an arrow too."

"Well thank Talos for that," Hadvar replies. 

I manage a small smile but don't say anything else.

Only a few more minutes of walking pass, and then Hadvar sighs, and points ahead to a wooden gate. 

"Finally, here's Riverwood."

We walk through the gate, although now I can see that it doesn't have any doors, and is really just an archway.

"Things look quiet enough here. Come on, there's my uncle," Hadvar points down the road to a large, beefy man, wearing a blacksmith's apron and pounding away at an anvil.

"Uncle Alvor, hello," Hadvar calls softly when we get closer.

The man turns, and then drops the item he was working on, "Hadvar? What are you doing here? Are you on leave from--" the man stops as he takes in our appearances. "Shor's bones! What happened to you, boy?" Alvor's voice echoes down the street and the few people still out and about pause and look up.

"Uncle, shh!"

"Are you in some kind of trouble?" Alvor asks without lowering his voice.

"Keep your voice down. I'm fine, but we should go inside to talk."

Alvor studies us, but does speak quieter, "What's going on? And who's this?"

"She's a friend of mine, saved my life actually. But come on, we need to go inside," Hadvar insists. 

"Okay okay, come on inside then. Sigrid will get you something to eat, and you can tell me all about it."

We follow Alvor into the house attached to the Blacksmith, it's a cozy little house and I can smell something cooking. My stomach growls in response.

"Sigrid, we have company!" Alvor calls. 

A young woman comes up the stairs in the far back of the room, and stops dead in her tracks, before running to Hadvar. "Hadvar! We've been so worried about you. Come, you two must be hungry. Sit down, and I'll get you something to eat," she exclaims.

We sit down, and Sigrid places bowls of warm stew in front of us. 

"Thank you." I dig in immediately, I haven't had good, hot food in so long. 

"So, you're a friend of Hadvar's?" Sigrid asks me. 

Hadvar doesn't pause in his conversation with Alvor so I swallow the bite I'd just taken and nod.

"Well, you're pretty, I'll give you that. Just stay away from my husband, Alvor."

Hadvar chokes on his ale, and glances over, but before he can say anything, I reply. "It's hardly my responsibility to keep your husband in line if he's the type to stray." 

Sigrid looks at me for a second, then bursts out laughing. 

"She's got a mouth on her!" She exclaims and then walks away. 

Hadvar fights a smile and turns back to Alvor, who either missed the whole conversation or is used to his wife saying such things. 

"What are you doing here, looking like you lost an argument with a cave bear?" He asks instead.

Hadvar sets his spoon down, "I don't know where to start…" he looks over at me helplessly, but I don't know either. How do you tell someone that legends and nightmares are real?

"You know I was assigned to General Tullius' guard. We were stopped in Helgen, when we were attacked. By a Dragon."

For a second I want to be unkind and make him explain why, exactly, we were "stopped" in Helgen. But I know the executions weren't his fault and even if I don't know anything about Skyrim, it probably wouldn't be good to tell people that one side in a war nearly killed the other side's leader, but failed. 

"A Dragon? That's ridiculous, you aren't drunk, are you, boy?" Alvor asks suspiciously.

"Husband, let him tell his story," Sigrid admonishes. 

"There's not much more to tell, the dragon flew over and just wrecked the place. Mass confusion, I don't know if anyone else got out alive. I doubt I would have made it myself, if it weren't for my friend here." 

Alvor looks gratefully over at me. I want to tell them that I didn't really do much, but I don't want to contradict Hadvar. 

"I need to get back to Solitude. Let them know what's happened, I thought you could help us. Maybe some supplies, or a place to stay?"

"Of course! Any friend of Hadvar's is a friend of mine. I'd be glad to help in any way I can," Alvor hesitates, and then leans towards me. "But I need your help. We need your help. If there's dragons about, the Jarl needs to know! Riverwood is defenseless, we need to get word to Jarl Balgruuf in Whiterun to send whatever soldiers he can. If you do this for me, I will forever be in your debt."

The three of them look over at me expectantly. 

"Oh, uh… sure, I can help," I agree reluctantly.  

A little girl pops up from the stairs, "Hadvar! Did you really see a Dragon? What did it look like? Did it have big teeth?" She exclaims. 

"Hush, Dorthe. Don't pester your cousin," Sigrid scolds.

I can't help but smile, she's so excited about the world, not concerned about the danger, or fear. I wish I could go back to that time myself. 

"Yes, Ma." Dorthe crosses the room and sits on the bed. 

"I've got to get back to work, good luck to the two of you," Alvor says, and then walks back out the door. 

Hadvar turns to me, "It's nice to be in a friendly spot, huh? Listen, I'm going to lay up here for awhile. You can make your own way to Solitude. It's about a twelve hour walk from here if you go straight through, or you can catch a carriage at any of the holds."

I nod vaguely, although I have no real intention of going to either place they've suggested. I'm going to find a bed, and sleep for ages. Then I'll worry about where to go next.