“What happened? Why does my head hurt so much? Where are we? Why is the world swaying from side-to-side? Its making me feeling nauseated! Was I knocked out by? Everything is so fuzzy!” The steady grinding of wheels were heard against a rocky road.
“It’s so loud and it’s freezing cold. I can feel the bite of every breath of the wind, as it slides across my exposed skin. Is that the smell of pine forest? It must be caught by the wind and lifted past my nose. It was sweet smelling at times, an overwhelming scent swirling in the wind.”
She continued to listen for a moment, “I feel like I am waking up from a bad night of drinking. Of course that’s quite funny as I don’t drink those types of beverages at all. Wait a moment, how do I remember that? Oh, what happened to me? Why is the last thing I remember is just walking and exploring? Then there was a sudden skirmish, then my head was hit.”
“There’s this loud buzz in my ears. Is this what it’s like for people who I see drinking a lot? Yes, of course I have seen many people doing that and observed what it did to them too. Some became happy, some sad, and then there were others that became downright annoying.”
“Where was she? Why did her back hurt so much as if someone had laid a hundred lashes across it? It stings, every time I am jostled back and forth.” Her eyes slowly drifted upwards and a person sitting across from her said, “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!”
“Who is this she thought? Focus! Why can’t I remember my name? What happened to me?” She said nothing in response but thought to herself, “What is she doing in this wagon with these other people and where are they going?” Then she heard a response from the person who the other one referred to as a thief, “Darn you Stormcloaks! Skyrim was fine until you came along. Empire was nice and lazy. If they hadn’t been looking for you, I could’ve stolen that horse and been halfway to Hammerfell. You there! You and me, we shouldn’t be here. It’s these Stormcloaks the Empire wants!”
She thought quietly, “Stormcloaks, I thought I heard something right before being knocked out, what was it someone cried out? Oh yes, then she whispered too loud ‘The true sons and daughters of Skyrim’. The man that original spoke to her, one of the Stormcloaks looked at her then, he turned back to the thief, “Show some respect like this poor girl just did!“
“Why are they fighting each other? A difference of beliefs but why?” Then she heard the who had just spoken say! “We are the True sons and daughters of Skyrim.” “Great, just what I didn’t need for them to believe. That I sympathize with them! “The Stormcloak returned his gaze to her, “You don’t look to good, what happened to you?”
The man paused, someone yelled up ahead, “Almost there, keep quiet back there!” “Your Breton right? I see your eyes are slightly slanted and your ears have a subtle point on them like most Bretons do. Were you coming in from High Rock or something? “
“Escaping some political prosecution there?” “I can’t remember anything, I am sorry! My head hurts so much and my back stings.” The Stormcloak said, “My name is Ralof, turn a bit if you can and let me see if I can notice anything. My god, what happened to you lass? You look like you were whipped a hundred times or more! That’s some gash you have on the back of your head too!”
“Whipped why? I never did anything wrong! Or at least I don’t think I did.” Ralof returned his attention back to the thief, “We’re all brothers and sisters in binds now, thief. These Imperials, all of them, are nothing more than yes men to the Dominion and those darn Elven enforcers, the Thalmor!” The driver of the wagon, an Imperial soldier shouted out to them, “Shut up back there!”
The thief looked over at the other man who sat next to her, but he was gagged. The thief then asked Ralof, “And what’s wrong with him?” Ralof angrily replied, “Watch your tongue! You’re speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King of Skyrim.”
The thief then responded, “Ulfric? The Jarl of Windhelm? You’re the leader of the rebellion. But if they captured you. Oh gods! Where are they taking us?” Ralof looked over at the thief, “I don’t know where we’re going, but Sovngarde awaits us.” The thief replied, “No, this can’t be happening! This isn’t happening!”
Ralof then spoke to her, “You shouldn’t be here likely, you just got caught up in something. Wrong place at the wrong time! They were there to capture us, not a thief and well, whoever you are.“ She mused, “He seems like a good enough person but why fight in a rebellion against this Imperial Empire from Cyrodiil they keep referring to? I bet there’s no winner in that type of scenario .” Then Ralof asked the thief, “Hey, what village are you from , horse thief?”
The thief replied, “Why do you care?” The other responded, “A Nord’s last thoughts should be of home.” The thief replied, “I’m from Rorikstead. “ The wagons were approaching a fortress. The horse thief asked, “Ralof, you know what place this is? “ Ralof turned and looked at the old fort ahead, “It appears to be Helgen.”
The wagon jostled again, the injured girl cried out, “Ouch! Driver could you please be a little bit more careful there?” The Imperial Soldier driving the wagon continued looking straight ahead and replied to her, “Just who the heck do you think you are, a princess or something?”
He laughed to himself then, Ralof began to speak again, “I grew up in a small town not far from here called Riverwood. I used to be sweet on a girl here you know. Helgen is currently used as an Imperial fort but at one time it was known as the crossroads into the province of Skyrim.”
The wagons roll into Helgen through a large double gate. As all those held in the wagons looked around they heard an Imperial Soldier call out, “General Tullius, sir! The headsman is waiting!” Those in the wagon saw what must have been the general sitting upon his horse speaking with some others. General Tullius replies, “Good! Let’s get this over with.”
She looked at each person held in the wagon with her and the thief she learned that goes by the name of Lokir. He calls out a prayer to the divines, “Shor, Mara, Dibella, Kynareth, and Akatosh. Divines, please help us.” She wonders quietly, “These divines he calls out to for help, who are they and why would they help them?” Then she contemplates, “Why can’t I remember anything? Was it the hit on the head?”
Ralof broke into her thoughts then, “Look at him, General Tullius the Military Governor. And it look like the Thalmor are with him. Darn Elves. I bet they had something to do with this.” She wondered, “Why would the Elves be concerned with affairs here in Skyrim? “
Then Ralof said, “ I wonder if Vilod is still making that mead with juniper berries mixed in. He owns the inn here. It feels like a long time ago.” The Ralof lost in thought said, “You know, I used to be sweet on a girl here in Helgen!” The injured girl observed that he never said her name, “I wonder why?” She watched him thinking about something. “Funny thing, when I was a boy, Imperial walls and towers used to make me feel so safe.”
As they approached the center of Helgen she noticed a man and his son watching them pull into their town. She heard the boy ask his father, “Who are they, daddy? Where are they going?” The father responded, “ You need to go inside, little cub.” The son asked, “Why? I want to watch the soldiers.” However, the father replied with a stern voice, “Inside the house. Now!”
She watched the young boy open the door into what looked like an inn. There was a sign swinging in the breeze that read, “The Home of Helgen” The wagons had stopped and then she heard what appeared to be an Imperial officer say, “ Get these prisoners out of the carts. Move it!” The thief, Lokir of Rorikstead then asked, “Why are we stopping?”
Ralof replied, “Why do you think? End of the line!” Lokir cries out, “No! This can’t be happening, you’re making a mistake, we’re not with them, we were just crossing the border when you captured them, the Stormcloaks. They’re the ones you want not us!”
Ralof replied, “Face you death with some courage, thief.” “Our death! Are we being brought here to be killed? Why would they do that? I mean, me and that thief aren’t even soldiers!” Then a new Imperial soldier, likely a junior office or something starts to check his list, “Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm, Ralof of Riverwood, and Lokir of Rorikstead.”
He then stops and says to the captain, “This person is not on the list!” The Imperial captain replies brusquely, “Forget the list, she goes to the block too!” Ralof could be heard saying, “It has been an honor, Jarl Ulfric!” Then Lokir cries out, “No, I’m not a rebel! You can’t do this! ”Lokir then attempts to run away with his hands still tied behind his back. She watched him weave from side-to-side as he ran.
The Imperial captain calls out, “Halt!” Lokir replies back, “You’re not going to kill me!” Then the Imperial captain cries, “Archers!” There is twain from the archer’s bow strings, then a whoosh heard as the arrows fly through the air and hit Lokir in the back as he runs away and falls to the ground dead.”
The Imperial captain then calls out, “Anyone else feel like running?” Then Hadvar, the soldier with the lists asks, “Wait, you there! Step forward. Who are you?” “I don’t know, I can’t remember anything after someone hit me on the head!” “You’re a Breton right, I mean you have the look about you. You must be from Highrock, the province of Daggerfall, commonly named by the Bretons.”
Hadvar interrupts her silent thoughts, “Fleeing from some court intrigue?” The Imperial captain then says, “She goes to the block too!” Hadvar replies, “By your orders, Captain, We’ll try and locate your family afterwards and transport your remains back for whatever funeral rites you hold to!”
Then she heard General Tullius say, “Ulfric Stormcloak, some here in Helgen call you a hero. But a hero doesn’t use a power like “The Voice” to murder their king and usurp his throne!” Ulfric who is still muffled replies with muffled grunts. General Tullius responds, “You started this war, plunged Skyrim into chaos, and now the Empire is going to put you down and restore the peace.”
Then all there heard what sounded like a loud roar come from the sky. “What was that she thought? That sounded familiar somehow, like I should know what that is.” She observed the soldiers, but they gave the roar little thought. Hadvar called out, “What was that?” General Tullius replies, “It’s nothing! Continue.” The captain then says, “Yes, General Tullius.” The captain then looks at a hooded person who appears to be a priestess of some kind and says to her, “Give them their last rites.”
The priestess steps forward and says, “As we commend your souls to Aetherius, blessings of the Eight Divines upon you. For you are the salt and earth of Nirn, our beloved…” A Stormcloak soldier interrupts her and cries out, “For the love of Talos, shut up and let’s get this over with!” The priestess stops and replies, “As you wish!” The Stormcloak soldier then says, “Come on, I haven’t got all morning. My ancestors are smiling at me, Imperials. Can you say the same?”
The Stormcloak soldier is then pushed to the block, and the Imperial captain bends him over to place his head on the block. The executioner, who is hooded so no one knows who they are completes his task. He raises a large axe with an oversized curved cutting edge above his head with thick muscular arms.
Then with a large swoosh the axe is brought down, and the Stormcloaks head falls into a basket. The Imperial Captain then shoves his lifeless body off the side of the chopping block. She then hears from various people in town who are watching this grim proceeding, “You Imperial bastards!”, “Justice!”, “Death to the Stormcloaks!” and then Ralof is heard saying, “As fearless in death as he was in life.” Hadvar says to her, “Breton, your next.” Then another louder roar is heard, nearer this time and Hadvar cries out, “There it is again Captain! Did you hear that?” The Imperial Captain replied, “I said, next prisoner!” Hadvar then looks sadly at her and says, “To the block , Breton, Nice and easy!”
Her head is gently placed on the bloody block. She can see the head of the Stormcloak soldier lying in the basket before her. She thinks to herself, “I guess this is it then, I don’t even know why I am here!”
Then as the headsmen raises his axe high above his head for the final blow a large black shape falls out of the sky and lands atop the nearby stone watchtower. With a loud thump! It’s impact rattles the ground and shakes the walls, ground, and roofs throughout the fort and town.
Tullius calls out, “What in Oblivion is that?” The Captain cries, “Sentries! What do you see?” A nearby Imperial soldier says, “Is that a…” Then a Stormcloak soldier cries, “Dragon!” The headsman’s axe remained raised at the upper height of its swing, his grunt of confusion cut short.
From the throat of the beast that had landed atop the overlooking watchtower came a sound that wasn’t a roar, but a command. Three distinct syllables were heard that shattered the air: “Fus..Ro..Dah!”
The results of it calling out those words was a physical impact like nothing anyone had experienced before. A shockwave rippled through the courtyard, throwing the headsman back like a rag doll. Above the sky didn’t just darken; it bruised. The clouds began to boil, churning with a dark stain that blotted out the sun.
It was then that the darkened clouds above began to boil with a fierce rolling fire. Then the fire rained down as screaming balls of fire fell from the boiling skies and exploded on everything all at once around Helgen. The nearby inn vanished in a direct hit and fire exploded outward from it leaving gaping holes where walls and roofs had once existed.
Stone towers and walls that had stood for centuries groaned and buckled as the dragon’s voice tore them apart. The air was no longer breathable; it was a thick soup of soot, pulverized stone, mixed with the metallic tang of the dragon’s fire.
General Tullius cried out, “Don’t just stand there! Kill that thing! Guards, get the townspeople to safety!” The injured girl who had been placed on the block was lying on the ground now. She was choking on the dust flying around and the heated air from the fire balls exploding all around them. Ralof, the Stormcloak soldier came to her and said, “Hey, Breton! Get up! Come on, the gods won’t give us another chance!”
She gets up with her hands still bound behind her. Ralof speaks to her, “This way! Come on, this way! Over here…” Then she hears an Imperial soldier call out, “What in the Eight Divines is that thing?” She looks up and sees it, a huge black dragon with burning red eyes watching her as she stumbled towards another tower with its door open. “Why is that thing watching me? I can see its eyes intensely looking at me as if trying to see under my skin!”
Then another said, “How in Oblivion do we kill this thing?” Someone else calls out, “By Ysmir! Nothing kills it!”. Then another soldier cries, “Die! For the love of the gods, die!” She and Ralof entered the nearby tower and Ralof asked Ulfric who was standing there now with his mouth unbound, “Jarl Ulfric!”
“What is that thing? Could the legends be true?” Ulfric replied, “Legends don’t burn down villages!” Then Ulfric says, “We need to move. Now!” Ralof looks at her and says, “Up through the tower, let’s go!”
“I wonder if I can help these injured Stormcloak soldiers she saw nearby.” She walked over to another caring for them. The caretaker says, “They’re hurt, but they’ll live. Another minute out there with that dragon, and they’d both be dead…”
Ralof tapped her shoulder and said, “Let’s go! With me, up the stairs of the tower!” Then as they walked up the stairway towards the first landing in the tower they heard another cry from the black dragon, “Yol…Toor…Shul!” The wall above them exploded inward and the dragon blew fire through the hole it created. Both Ralof and she huddled against the inside of the outside wall halfway up the stairs to where the large gaping hole had appeared.
The dust settled some and the dragon seemed to be distracted elsewhere so they made their way to the opening and Ralof said to her, “See the inn on the other side? Jump through the roof and keep going! Go! We’ll follow when we can!”
She looked at Ralof and then over to the torn open roof of what had been an inn. She didn’t think, she just took a leap and tumbled roughly onto the floor of the second level of the torn apart building. When she looked back to where she had come from, Ralof was nowhere to be seen. She thought to herself, “I hope he’s all right. He seemed like a nice person. Not sure I understand their views, but I don’t even understand myself right now!”
She made her way to an opening and what had been part of the ceiling, knelt down then rolled herself over into the open hole. Her hands were still bound behind her although the binds had loosened some with everything that had happened to them. She landed roughly on top of what had once been one of the dining tables in the inn. “Ouch! That was painful! “She rolled off the table onto her feet and made her way through a burning smoldering remains of an inn to an opening to the outside.
Once outside she observed complete and utter chaos with many dead and injured towns people and soldiers lying everywhere. That dragon seemed to be bent on total destruction of this place.
She wondered briefly, “What did these people do to that dragon? What is a dragon doing here too? I mean they’ve been gone for an exceedingly long time now and why do I even know that?”
Then she heard Hadvar calling out in panic, “Haming, you need to get over here. Now! That a boy, You’re doing great. Torolf! Gods…Everyone get back! “It was then the large black dragon landed nearby, and fire flowed through its open mouth as it said, “You…Toor…Shul!”
Then she heard Hadvar say to her, “Still alive, Breton?” Keep close to me if you want to stay that way! Gunnar, take care of the boy. I have to find General Tullius and join their defense.” Gunnar replied, “Gods guide you, Hadvar.”
She noticed the dragon had leapt into the air again and was sending destruction everywhere. Hadvar called out to her, “Follow me!” They made their way across the road to a wall nestled close to some burning buildings. Hadvar cried out, “Stay close to the wall!” The large black dragon landed with a large crushing thump on the top of the wall they were nestled against.
“You okay? I can’t believe we’re still alive. I mean that dragon just blew apart a couple of houses as it landed above us!” Hadvar then saw something, “What’s wrong with her? Something’s happening to her! Is that dragon speaking to her?” Hadvar saw the black dragon looking down directly at her. His eyes were lit up like burning embers.
Hadvar then saw the Breton girl grab her head as if in pain. He heard her cry out, “What is happening to me! I feel as if I am being pulled apart from within!” Then there was a voice speaking to her, inside her head. “ “Hi Los Nid Wah Zu’u, Grik Pahlok, Wah Tinvaak Ol Aan Ronit, Ol Dovahkiin!“ Hadvar watched in horror, as she turned her head from side to side, unbearable pain showing on her face which was now white as snow.
She cried out, “What do you mean? Are you doing this because of me, why?” She then heard him say, “You understood me before, you are nothing to me, such arrogance, to speak as an equal, as Dragonborn!” He lifted into the air again, “Discover your destiny, Dovahkiin. Not that it will do you any good!” With that he roared as he lifted himself high above them again as more destruction rained down upon Helgen.
Hadvar reached over, shook her, and said, “Quickly, follow me!” General Tullius called out from somewhere nearby across the way near the gate, “Hadvar! Into the keep, soldier, we’re leaving!” Hadvar then said to her, “It’s you and me, Breton, Stay close!” Then they both heard General Tullius call, “Run, you idiot!”
Hadvar and she ran to a place where there were two doors, there stood Ralof, defiant but still alive. Hadvar then said, “Ralof! You darn traitor. Out of my way!” Ralof replied, “We’re escaping, Hadvar. You’re not stopping us this time!” Hadvar then said, “Fine. I hope that dragon takes you all to Sovngarde.”
Ralof called out to her to come with him, “What, come with you, why?” she thought. “They both had been nice to her, but she was part of the empire if she was Breton wasn’t she? I… both Ralof and Hadvar had told her that!” “I am sorry Ralof,” her instincts told her to stay with Hadvar.
She turned to go with Hadvar into another door but felt the pain of a lost friend in Ralof. “What is wrong with these people and these differences in ideals and beliefs between the Empire and the Nords?“
The last thing she heard was the black dragon crying out in its language, “Hin Sil Fen Nahkip Bahloki!” “He was right!” She had thought to herself, “I do understand their language!” She thought to herself “Your soul will feed my hunger! What does that mean?” A moment later they were through the door and into the keep.
**