Work Text
In the dream, I walked through mist toward the sound of laughter, merriment and the songs of the north. The mist soon cleared, and before me lay a great chasm. Waters thundered over its brim, and so deep it was, I could not see the bottom.
It was as if it were only yesterday when I crossed that chasm myself. The screams still rang in my ears, the death, the beating of his wings, the heat of his flames, the strength of his voice, it was still so real, like a dream from which I couldn’t wake. But although it was a nightmare, there was a light that always called me back. I could look up into the sky and see the stars, thousands of stars, I could feel every one. I saw an eternity up there, I saw a never-ending reign of peace and hope, I saw a world that never dies. There was a fear, however, I was afraid that eternity would never return, afraid that I would simply fade, never to touch that peaceful sky.
Under the shade of the evergreen tree, I still remembered that realm, and I still held onto the deep desire to never leave it. Even if that battle reigned on for an eternity, I would never have had to feel the bitter cold air of the mortal world once more. My eyes had been opened to something so much bigger than myself, I didn’t want to come back.
“Sparrow.”
I raised my gaze away from the book in my hands, the words no longer taking shape in my mind. I had let my mind wander to the past too easily, it was easy to let myself drift away from the present, especially in my times of solitude. But now pulling me back into reality was the wood elf, Faendal. He emerged from the trees with a bow in his hands and fresh rabbit carcasses swinging loosely from his belt. His eyes glanced hazily in my direction, an aura of weariness seemed to hang there. It was different from the always sharp and vigilant elf I remembered, could the few years really have changed so much?
Before I could stand to greet him, he unbuckled one of the rabbits and sat down beside my tree, plopping the animal on the grass next to me.
“You know I can hunt for myself,” I chuckled, shutting the book between my fingers with a muffled thud.
“I had a few extra,” he said, shrugging with a slight smirk, “the woods around here are plentiful, makes for some easy target-practice.”
“Still the show-off, I see.”
He released a laugh, airy and less humorous than it used to be, as he leaned back against the tree, setting his bow beside him. “Takes me back to our old adventures. Which reminds me,” he cocked his head towards me with a raised eyebrow, “your Nord friend returned.”
“Ralof?” From Faendal’s satisfied smile at my response, I realized my voice had risen. I swallowed down the eagerness that rose within me and simply folded my hands in my lap as if to appear stoic to the news. “How is he?”
“He looks a bit worse for the wear, not like that’s got him down. You should ask him yourself, I’m betting he’s wasting his days away at the inn, not like I’d expect much more from a Nord like him.”
I couldn’t do much to hide the slight twitch at the corner of my lips, or the shifting of my eyes downward. In truth, I had thought about Ralof often. He was a good friend who I undoubtedly trusted with my life, but now that the war had ended and the years had passed, I couldn’t deny the uncertainty gnawing at my gut. He was a piece in the story of a long and complicated past, a memory that went hand-in-hand with harsh, freezing nights and endless bloodshed. He was a comfort during the worst of days, but seeing him now I feared would only dig up that past I had tried so hard to bury.
I nibbled at the skin of my lips as I realized the passing silence between Faendal and I. I figured he didn’t mind much, he appeared rather content enjoying a passing breeze coming down from the snow-capped mountains, hardly taking a second notice of my internal struggles. I decided it best not to discuss it, my burdens were my own to bear, but at least I could break the silence.
“Suppose I haven’t been to the village for a while.”
“Not like I blame you,” he stood up from the ground with a sigh while looking over the lake, “the solitude out here is refreshing.”
“It serves me well.”
“Then I’ll leave you to it.” He picked up his bow and without a sound, disappeared into the thick foliage of the forest.
The only remaining trace of the elf was the carcass he left behind, and I was left to the silence once again with the book as my only solace. I opened it again, but my mind had already gone adrift to the far reaches of Skyrim, and so I sat until the sun began to sink into the golden lake. It was then I drew my legs under me and stood, closing the book and grabbing the rabbit before heading up the hill to my cabin.
It wasn’t until I sank into the thick furs of my bed with a full stomach that I realized how unusually tired I felt. It was an odd sensation of exhaustion that overcame me as the remaining light from the embers of the fireplace dimmed into a soft glow and a subtle chill took the room. I sank deeper as my eyelids began to lower. The shadows were flickering, dancing around the room and taking the shapes of figures, of soldiers marching in the falling snow. Swords, bows, axes, all flourished in the night ready to strike at an unseen foe with gleams of silver reflecting the soft moonlight. Fog had emerged thick and heavy as if from nowhere, surrounding the soldiers and clouding my vision. I stumbled through the fog, looking left and right as I tried to locate my comrades. I had to find them. I couldn’t have been left behind, not on the eve of battle like this.
The sword in my hand grew heavy and the world had gone silent, until that silence was shattered by the screams of men that tore through the air. I started to run after the sounds, my heart pounding in rhythm with my feet against the ground, sweat dripping down my brow.
That was when I heard him.
“YOL TOOR SHUL”
His voice ripped across the black sky. The silhouette of his massive wings spread, beating above the trees. Behind him there were no stars or any sign of the moon, and yet still his black scales were visible against the backdrop of the darkness.
“Zu’u lost daal!”
The air trembled with every word, resonating through my mind as I tried to lift the sword in my hand. Growing heavier with every attempt, the blade clattered onto the ground, my body weak. It was wrong, all of it, had I not fought the dragon before? Had the war not ended?
“I… I destroyed you!” I yelled at the beast, uncertainty growing within my gut as the hopeless feeling crushed me like a claw around my pounding heart. “You’re dead!”
"Zu'u unslaad! zu'u nis oblaan!"
The dragon returned, his voice as clear as the air that burned from his flames. My brothers and sisters at arms sank into the darkness of the fog, their screams fading into the night as they were consumed by the fires of the World Eater.
“Nu hin sil dii, Dovahkiin!”
I stood among the embers, weakened, I was unable to save them. What use was I, what use was my power if I could not keep them from the evil that plagued our homeland?
“No,” the silent cry passed my lips, a final and desperate plea that was as useless as I. The ground was against my knees, my body sinking into it as darkened tendrils snaked upwards from beneath me. My eyes widened at the sight of the otherworldly horror that formed beneath me, the dirt and grass forming into a solid, bubbling mass of ink that drew me further within its grasp. I tried to jerk my arms away and grab the ground, but my fingers only passed through the grass as it became nothing more than wisps of fog and I sank into the ink.
The wood of the trees around me crackled and groaned as flames whisked around them. My face and body burned as I sank, helpless, deeper into the shadows. With one, final, muffled scream, I was jerked awake.
My eyes were wide, but my vision was fogged. My chest rose and fell in quick, heavy gasps that only drew in hot air as sweat soaked my clothes and furs against my back. I blinked again to awaken myself, but my vision only grew more clouded as my eyes began to water and sting. With the sudden realization, I jerked upwards in my bed. The walls crackled loudly in my ears, the air growing heavier as I rose, burning my nostrils. My home was on fire.
For a moment I stared, squinting my eyes as I attempted to peer through the thickening smoke. I could not tell how much of the small cabin was aflame. I could see nothing. It wasn’t until I had taken another breath and choked on the smoke that I thought to move. I rolled myself off the bed, catching myself on the floor with my hands and knees as I drew the cloth of my shirt over my mouth and nose, coughing as the air burned both inside and around me. I could hardly stand to keep my eyes open against the heat, but through my heavy blinking, I could see little through the smoke as I crawled with my body against the wooden floor.
I knew my home well enough, it was a small two-room cabin that had served its purpose of giving me shelter and it would be easy enough to find my way out, but the dry, wooden walls now failed me as the fire grew, and the doors were difficult to locate.
THUD
The sound of something crashing overpowered even the loudness of the fire. I could tell it came from somewhere in front of me near the exit of the bedroom. Through the smoke, I could make out the growing flames licking at the now-protruding planks of wood where my bookshelf once stood. I used my elbows, one after the other, to pull myself closer to the doorway of the room, when suddenly a large object tumbled from the ruins of the shelf to the ground in front of me.
It was a tome as thick as castle stone with a cover made of unmatched skins. Each skin was patched together by crooked stitches done long and uneven, as if made by a man who had lost his nerve.
“Let us work wonders together.”
Fire roared in my ears, but the memory of the demented voice somehow still felt so loud and clear, like a monster still inside my head. Inside my head like the time I met him. Following me day and night until I gave in and completed his task. Septimus’ body floating unnaturally into the air before falling limply on the ground, the blood of the mer races still staining my hands. No matter my reasoning, I had betrayed my honor, I had betrayed Skyrim for whatever meager gain this tome had brought me.
I reached out and grabbed the book, the worn, leathery cover still hot between my fingers as I rose. Ignoring the dry smoke that seeped into my eyes and lungs. I threw the cursed object into the flames, watching it as it was engulfed by a blast of fire, cackling as if to mock me before I raised my arms over my face in defense. My world was burning, my past was aflame, what more had I to lose?
The door of my cabin was on fire with everything else around me, my Thu’um would be the only thing to get me out alive. I would not die sleeping.
“FUS RO DAH!”
The doors blasted off their hinges, sparks bursting into the air like scattering fireflies. Smoke and fire shot outwards through the doorway with me as I stumbled into the night, the skies blackened by the rising smoke.
I closed my dry eyes in a coughing fit as I fell to my knees at a safe distance, clutching my chest with every gasp of the sweet, northern air that followed my hacking. I dared a glance back at my home, seeing the logs that made up the roof begin to crumble and collapse into the cabin along with the walls that failed to stand on their own. Smoke lit by a thousand sparks billowed into the air with every
crack
of a crumbling log. Only one question remained.
What had happened?
A mistake of my own, perhaps. The rabbit fur from the fresh carcass could have been set too close to the embers of the fire pit. I had, after all, been unusually tired that night, perhaps even unnaturally tired, as I had learned from countless nights in the wilds of Skyrim to always remain vigilant, even in sleep. That feeling had never left me even in the years after, I never slept without a weapon within reach, a dagger under my pillow or an axe beneath my bedding. But that night something was different. Something shifted in the air after I finished eating the rabbit haunch from the carcass Faendal had gifted me. I knew I didn’t have any mead or wine that night, but it was as if a drunken stupor had taken over when my legs felt light and my eyelids heavy, drawing me to an early sleep filled with haunting visions of my past. Had I caused the destruction of my own home? Or…
I shifted my gaze to the woods around me as an odd sensation of goosebumps crawled upwards on my arms and spine. There was a feeling of nakedness growing on me as the belt I wore hung loosely, empty of a weapon. Should unwanted eyes watch me from the night, I stood unarmed and unprotected. The wind seemed to shift, the roaring of the fires growing dimmer as I sat as still as I could, watching warily into the darkness.
“Laas yah nir,”
I whispered under my breath as not to be heard by any waiting threats. Small whisps flickered alight, one after another in the forest around me, quickening my heartbeat as I withheld any visible reaction.
The trees danced with the dying fire, swaying with every utterance of wind and the groaning of burning wood. Within the trees danced something else, the red flames of life that watched and waited, I counted three, four, a blade flicking between anxious fingers as sparkes died in the hands of wary mages. Although I could see little, I knew it was there, as I knew when bandits crept at the edges of my campsites.
These were no bandits. Bandits may have hid with careful thought and well-laid traps for the unsuspecting travelers, but they were brash. When merchants and rich travelers came plump with moneybags and goods into their waiting snares, bandits charged with promises of riches. Now was their chance, they would have jumped an unarmed foe without mercy. Those hiding in the woods did not attack, they were waiting. They burned a home before raiding it of potential treasures, and they did not immediately attack what appeared to be unarmed, defenseless prey. I did not want to acknowledge the truth, but I knew, and my life was at risk.
They know who I am
.
I rose to stand slowly, keeping my head turned from directly facing those in the woods, but watching every movement of their red flames without giving myself away. Outside my house was a stump of a log, a chopping block, and upon it rested my wood axe. I would have to be careful, if I made any sudden movements they would advance without a doubt, although not knowing who my adversaries were or what they wanted would make this difficult.
With a deep breath, I made as if to move closer to my burning house, but stumbled backwards as my legs still felt weak. I had still neared the potential weapon, my arm outstretched behind me, fingers inching towards the handle-
SKRRSH
A scream tore past my lips before I even realized what had hit me, a strong, burning sensation coursing through my body as if I were set on fire from the inside out. A thousand blades pierced my flesh all at once, then they were gone as quickly as they had come. The ground was against my knees, my eyes on the axe once more as the lightning faded into the mage’s hands.
I reached out again, my knuckles whitening with the wooden handle gripped between my fingers, yanking it from the log as wood splintered off into the grass. With a determined yell, I swung the axe around and forced myself to stand, facing the approaching shadows. Curses to all the divines rang in my ears as the blade tore into the fabric of the nearest figure, emerging with droplets of darkened liquid.
The figure jumped backward with an arm around his stomach when a blue light began to sparkle in his opposing hand. I thought to act fast, but my body was slow to move, sluggish, weakened. I raised the axe with all I had, only too late as the lightning shot from the shadow’s hand, tearing and burning through me once more.
With a helpless scream, my legs gave out beneath me. I held myself up with one arm against the ground, looking up only to see the figures surrounding me. Heart pounding, I grit my teeth and jumped towards a figure with the axe brandished. At the sudden tightening of the hair at my scalp, I was yanked backwards away from my target. Eyes widened, I took the axe in both my hands and swung it over my head. Multiple hands grabbed my arms when the wooden handle slid between my fingers, my only weapon taken from me.
My last line of defense, my Voice, would reveal my identity, but I was left with nothing else.
“
FO-
”
Before the words of biting cold could escape past my lips, one of the figures took the fabric of my collar and shoved a cloth between my teeth. My Voice was reduced to nothing more than a muffled yell. They had prepared for this.
I tried to pull my arms away, I tried to kick out my legs when the dry grass and twigs prickled and scratched at my back. They were dragging me towards the forest.
“Enough,” a calm, yet assertive voice spoke.
The attackers had stopped in their tracks, but not I. I still yanked and kicked in desperate attempts until the cold metal pressed into the skin of my neck. I was frozen as the ice to the north, breathless, my eyes rose to the blade, and the man before me.
"You are a foolish one, Nord."
The silhouette loomed in the moonlight, backlit by the fire behind him. Through the flickering shadows, I could only see the smooth, expressionless surface where his face should have been. A mask and robe as all the others wore, unlike any I had ever seen.
“Only one so foolish would claim to be the true Dragonborn, and now you shall pay for your lies, deceiver.” He pressed his blade into my skin as he spoke, until I winced at the slight trickle of blood oozing from my neck.
“Death to the deceiver!” One man cried behind me.
I jumped at the voice, my breath catching in my throat. My chest rose and fell in quick movements as I tried to pull away from the blade and the figures closing in.
“Her soul will be devoured!” Another chimed in. My eyes darted between them, unable to tell from which of the faceless mask the voice came from.
“Death!”
’The blade was pulled away from my neck and raised into the air over his head along with the voices and the flames spiraling upwards before me.
“Our lord will rise again!”
I couldn't pull my arms to free myself, the grips of my captors tightening. The sword plunged downward. But it was not the blade striking me.
I could hear the sudden crack ringing through my head, dull and heavy like the weapon that hit me. A strange sensation followed that I could not describe as pain, but rather as the world faded away into the night, I welcomed the darkness.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
How much time had passed, I could not tell. I could have been floating for ages, the world I knew could have long since passed into the void as I existed outside of Nirn, or perhaps no time had passed at all. I imagined stretching my arm out, reaching for something I could not see, but there was nothing, I was nothing.As I had resigned myself to the darkness, I could feel something, a cold breeze that brushed gently against my cheek, a familiar feeling of home. In my mind’s eye I could see it again, the snow-capped mountains that spotted the horizon of my homeland with the rolling valleys of green and wildlife. A river passed between the mountains flowing steadily, along it walked fishermen and hunters with loaded sacks of furs and game while families of elk gnawed carelessly on the grass at the other side of the water. This was Skyrim, this was the land I fought to preserve, it was a part of me as I was a part of it.At my side stood my brother-at-arms still clad in his gray armor like the day we first met, with the blue fabric draped over his shoulder and tied at his waist. My friend who never abandoned me even in the heat of war, not when our world around us was aflame with dragon fire or when the legions threatened to engulf us.“Ralof,” I said to him as his gaze was distant to the mountains, “the war is over, we can go home now.”At first he was silent, forever watchful past his valley to the north and beyond. We stood above the village of Riverwood, Ralof’s village, the place that became my home as well when his family took me in years ago after our escape from the legion. It was after we witnessed the return of the dragons, before I discovered who I truly was. I would have chosen to remain here in Riverwood forever had I been given the choice, had I not been swept up into the war or summoned by the Graybeards. I would give anything to be back there again, listening to the sounds of the river and the spinning mill, to the chopping of wood that echoed through the air with the ting ting of the blacksmith’s hammer. Dogs barked and distant wolves howled in response as children laughed in blissful ignorance to the fighting beyond the peaceful little valley. Perhaps I could finally return and join with Ralof again, we could have the life we fought so dearly for all those years.“The war will never be over,” he finally spoke in a voice that was not rich like the nord I once knew. It was cold and hollow, a tone of foreboding that cut into the air like a pickaxe through ice.“What are you saying? We were there when it ended, we fought the last battle.”“Wars are waged, armies amass to the south. Skyrim yet will burn and you will not be there to save her.”“You don’t know this, you cannot claim to know this!”He turned to me suddenly, the blue of his eyes that once sparkled with merriment were covered in shadow accompanying the grim expression upon his face, a look rare to see upon Ralof. “The Gardener of Men knows.”My blood ran cold.“He knows you’re all alone, the one of dragon’s blood has been found.”“You’re lying to me,” my voice had failed me, I wished to fight back, to strike out and deny whatever he said, no matter the truth. “I’m not alone, I have you.”“No one can save you.”The sounds of rushing water through the village grew, the wooden mill rocking and spinning was louder in my ears.“Stop it, the war is over.”Before I saw him move, my wrists were in both his hands. “It’ll never be over, your time grows near.”I could not see his face, distorted and covered in shadows, the ink dripped downward onto my skin, burning, burning, I squirmed and pulled, but I could not get away.“No one to save you.”“Let me go!”The fighting would never end. Tighter, tighter, his grips burned, slithering around my wrists in blackened tendrils, burned and charred like the bodies at Helgen. The rivers and mountains and village melted away into the inky blackness, but I could still hear them. I screamed, I kicked, I fought, but who was I fighting? It wasn’t Ralof, it wasn’t the Imperials, it wasn’t the dragons. Something was wrong, everything was rocking back and forth as my home faded from sight and my head throbbed in aching pain.
"H...hmmp..." I groaned, everything swirling as I woke. "Wh...whhr..." My eyes were sealed shut, but reality flowed back into me like the waters of Riverwood I could still hear rushing around me, only now the strong scent of salt overwhelmed my senses. The ground beneath my body tilted and rocked almost rhythmically, but yet was unsteady as I tried to lift my head, only for it to fall heavy back against the wood with a quiet thud.“...of the wood elf?” A distinct voice carried to my ears, drawing me awake with the rocking of the floor.“He and his poisoned carcass served their purpose,” a second voice rose in response, “if we are fortunate, he will remember nothing of us when he wakes.”“ If we are fortunate. You should have thrown his corpse into the river with the mudcrabs and slaughterfish and been done with it!” The wood elf? They speak of Faendal? If only I could have seen who was speaking. I forced open my eyes, but found only hair that had fallen loose from my braid, blocking my vision.“Forgive me sera , but I trust in our lord’s power to preserve us.”My hand twitched as I attempted to bring it up to my face, sucking in air sharply through my nose to the burn of my wrists from my attempts to pry my hands apart. As dull as I felt, I still could not resist the sudden quickening of my heartbeat nor breathing. My eyes were blinded, but I could feel the air was different, thick and heavy. Past the scent of salt, there was dust that seemed to fill my lungs and dry my throat. The last thing I could remember was fire, and fear. Unfamiliar voices rising into the night in a haunting chant, the jumble of events spun around in my head, distorting me as I yanked desperately to pry my hands apart and raise them to my face.“Be still, cretin,” A rasping voice resonated from above me. Something slammed into my gut in that instance. Air shot past the cloth gagging my mouth, which muffled the yelp that followed. I clenched my fist at the sudden sickly pain in my stomach, pulling my knees to my chest as I swallowed back any cries.“Careful, fetcher! We are to bring her alive!” The same male voice that I had awoken to shouted.It was not the first time I had heard these voices, that was one thing of which I was certain. The confusion was beginning to take shape in my mind, as if I were remembering a bad dream. My home was burning, and around me stood shadowed figures, all in masks. One held a sword over my head…“What’s it matter if she’s alive or not?” The rasping voice argued.“What do you think, s’wit? It is her soul we need, if she’s dead, she’s useless to our lord.”I blinked, as if doing so would allow me to see past the knotted clumps of hair. The desperation grew for me to see what was happening, to understand anything of what the strange voices were saying.“A kick to the gut shows the deceiver her place, it won’t kill her. ‘Specially not her.”The other voice grew quiet, as if grumbling something before speaking again. “Just get out of here, I’ll tend to her myself.”The echoes of heavy footfalls faded away. Through my hair, I could vaguely make out the approaching shape of a figure’s boots. An outreaching shadow brushed against my forehead, pushing the hair from my face. I blinked again, this time in the sudden light that flooded my vision, and the white blur that neared me. Just like the mask that shone under the moonlight, it held no expression behind the dented wood where eyes should have been, and the carved slits for the nose. I slunk back against the ground away from the mask, as the narrow appendages carved onto the sides of the mask spiraled outward like nothing I could have compared it to. The carved tentacles which replaced the mouth resembled what I would imagine to be a creature from the Deadlands of Oblivion, a monster straight out of the stories I was told as a child.“So you’ve awoken,” the voice spoke from behind the mask, “I understand you must be confused.”My gaze darted behind the figure, up to a darkened sky, and back to the mask which held a steady, emotionless gaze.“Where are we?” Is what I would have asked, or even “who are you?” But all I could do was breathe through the gag in a quick, heavy hiss of air and train a glare upon the captor’s hidden face.“There is much you’ve yet to learn. All will be answered when my lord is made aware of your arrival,” he paused for a moment to tilt his head upwards as if to look at the clouded sky, “these simple discomforts will soon be the least of your worries.”The man stood, his ominous words lingering in the chilled air, even as he walked away. I was left to contemplate his meaning with no answers in sight, other than the promise of his “lord,” but even then there was no further explanation. No names, no faces, only the persistent doubt of what was to come.The one understanding I had then, at least, was that I was on the floor of a vessel, as the gray sails pillowed in the wind under the sky. The sky, which I thought was clouded, seemed to grow darker with every passing moment. It was covered in a veil of smoke, thick and black, there was no sign of the sun above it. From the floor of a vessel over untamed waters and under a black sky, I had no indication of where in Tamriel I was, or where they were taking me.“The island is in sight,” a voice called.As the fog faded from my head, I wrapped my fingers around the chain behind me, and hoisted myself into a sitting position. A pang in my neck and shoulder caused a gasp to catch in my throat as I bit down on the gag, but despite it, I turned my head to look over the ship.There was nothing I could see to indicate where I was. gray waters blurred into gray skies, surrounding the ship where Nordic sailors wandered without so much of a glance in my direction. Their eyes were clouded as the sky, their movements sluggish as if pulled by invisible strings. I glanced between them and the ones who captured me, the masked men who stood stiff at the ends of the ship, watching between me, the sailors, and the horizon with quick movements, with what I imagined to be anxiousness. Every sailor aboard the ship that was not dressed in robes and a mask was in some sort of trance, their actions were not their own.I could not imagine what the masked men could have done to the Nords. I had dealings with the College of Winterhold in the past, I’ve fought against dark mages and necromancers, but I had never encountered any such spell that controlled the actions of another man like this. If they did have a spell to control a person’s actions, why had they not used it on me?The thick, dark clouds in the distance grew much closer, it was then that I could see it was land we were approaching, the island that the sailor had announced. Covered in a veil of smoke or fog, the only thing I could discern was the center of the island, which rose to jagged peaks. I gripped the chain and attempted to tug at it, hoping to loosen the screws from the wall of the vessel. It yielded no results, as I should have expected, but as the mountainous claws protruded from the waters into the smoke-covered skies, I could only imagine what fate awaited me if I failed to escape the masked captors.I finally gave up my attempts and let go of the chains, falling back against the wall to rest. As I turned, I noticed one of the masks facing my direction. Whereas the others only glanced over me quickly, this one lingered, the prolonged look of the mask which hid any expression. Studying, plotting, watching, I could only guess the intention hiding behind the white carvings. A silent glare was all I had in return, it was my own mask for the uncertainty and fear underneath.The sailors’ movements quickened, drawing my attention away. They scrambled across the deck, raising the sails while preparing ropes and an anchor, it appeared we were approaching the shore. We had entered the fog where the winds began to grow in strength, tilting the ship precariously. The dry winds stung my eyes, preventing me from seeing the island. Men shouted over the roaring while stepping outside the boat to tie the ropes to a deck that emerged from the gray winds.“Get the deceiver,” shouted the man that had taken me from my home, the one who had watched, and now pointed in my direction, “careful that her bindings have not loosened.”The chains rattled beside my ear while someone unlocked it from the wall. With my hands still bound, the two approaching masked men did not wait for me to stand on my own, but gripped my arms and pulled me to my feet with a quick jerk. My legs shook on the rocking ship, were it not for the grip of the men I could have very well lost my balance and fallen.I lifted my head despite the aching protests of my neck with an attempt to peer through the fog. Behind it there was only an endless gray. I was pulled towards it. The plank was lowered onto the land by the silent sailors who watched me with eyes that did not truly see, as I was half-dragged onto the land. My foot met the soft ground, sinking into what looked like a thick layer of snow. I paused for a moment, staring at what looked, but did not feel like the snow from Skyrim. It was warm and dry.“Move.”The men behind me had no patience for my hesitation. Their sudden, rough shove caused my legs to buckle beneath me as I fell into the ash, my bound hands behind my back unable to stop the fall. I coughed out the ash from my mouth and tried to lift myself, when a hand grabbed me from behind. With fingers digging into the sides of my neck, I grunted as I was yanked out of the ash and onto my knees, facing the island. Ash, fallen trees, and embers lingering in the air like the entire island was once on fire. It was barren and desolate, spare the few ashen-covered trees that somehow still remained.Breathing became difficult. From dust and ash and heavy air, I gasped between coughs while I tried to look around myself. Figures emerged from both the boat and the island, all the same in masks and robes. From the boat stepped off the tallest one. He was no different than the others, except in the way he carried himself, with straightened shoulders and back, with his masked head held higher than the others in his air of superiority. I had imagined him to be a leader. As he passed me, the steel sword that was strapped to his waist reflected the dull light, the same sword he used to strike me after he had burned down my home.In a surge of anger, I pushed my legs beneath me to lurch towards him. I had been quick enough to free myself from the men, jumping at the leader with a determined shout behind the gag. The bindings at my wrists tightened and I was yanked back, still attached to the chain. The men grabbed my neck and shoulders once more, shoving me back down onto my knees.“You would be wise not to fight us, deceiver,” the leader said. His fingers hovered over the hilt of his blade, but he was not startled in the slightest. His gaze held steady behind his mask, always observing, as if watching for something, as if waiting.When his head finally turned, it was to look inward to the center of the island. “That is our destination,” he said, “between ash and snow, where the temple of our lord lies. He awaits deep within the ancient halls, trapped, but alive.”The fog seemed to have lifted in that moment he spoke. The center of the island in the distance rose to its peak, the waiting claw surrounded by the treacherous gray land of jagged rocks and trees choked of water.The mask was facing me once more, I did not see it turn. Expressionless, he pointed his gloved finger towards me.“You will return him to us.”
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
It was a place where the sun had never shone. There was no color, no light, no hope of escape. The only sounds were the dry winds and the muffled footsteps in the ash, the silence which made the barren plane seem adrift between worlds and time, an empty dream which hung on the edge of an eyelid during the night. With it was the smell of a fire which had been long dead, when the remaining dust was all that’s left. We had since left the sea and the taste of salt behind, the vessel no longer visible behind the hills of gray, nor could we hear the sound of water crashing against the shore.
There were only five of them now, the men all dressed in the same robes and masks that told me nothing of who or what they could be. Two walked besides the group with heads darting about their surroundings as guards, and two held their grips on my chains with daggers in their hands. The final one, the leader, charged forward with his head never turning from his destination. My inability to escape weighed upon me with every sinking step. I failed to protect myself, or my home, or my friend, whose mind must have been poisoned like the sailors aboard the ship.
My jaws had grown sore from my anxious gnawing of the gag, the restraint which prevented me from formulating a clear word of power. The captors had known just what to do, how to attack and prevent me from using my Thu’um. They knew the power of the dragonborn. I looked between them with their hidden faces, the cultic gear which betrayed no knowledge beneath. As to what they wanted with the dragonborn, I was left to ponder silently. The only echoing words in my head were those who called for my death, and “Deceiver,” the thing they named me with a hatred clear in their voices. Undoubtedly, whatever they had planned, they would make sure it would end in my death. I would die here, under the smoke-covered sky, in the dark, ashen land far from my own home.
A distant roar sounded from overhead, tearing into my thoughts. One of the men grabbed my arm and gripped it tightly as we all froze in our tracks. A tremor ran through my body with a tinge of familiarity, and I found myself looking to the sky in an involuntary movement. I listened for more roars, for the beating of wings or the shifting of the wind, but only silence followed.
“We should find cover,” one of the watchmen muttered with his head tilted upwards like the others.
There was no shelter in sight. In the open field of ash, rocks, and dead trees, we stood exposed to whatever may lie out there in the strange land. They were afraid, from the shifting movements of the watchmen, and in the tight grip of my guard, I knew.
“You fear the very thing that serves our lord?” The leader asked, turning to face the men. “No, we will keep moving. He will keep us safe.”
At that moment I was certain he was looking at me again. The hidden, studying gaze that met my own. There was no indication as to what he was looking for or what he wanted from me, whether it was fear or a hint of knowledge, I was determined not to give him any reaction that he may have sought.
Without another word, he turned and trudged on through the ashen land, his hesitant men following with me in tow. Silence fell over all of us, I couldn’t hear the heavy breathing from some of the men I was hearing before, as if the sound of the distant dragon had them all holding their breaths. The dragon which the leader claimed
serves their lord.
More questions, yet still no answers.
A rumbling cut into the silence. The ground under me began to shake, I looked down to see the ash shaking under my boots. When a hollow gasping sounded from behind us, the cultists spun around.
“Ash Spawn!”
At the shout, the man beside me grabbed my arm and shoved me to the front of the group when a sudden blast hit the ground next to us. One of the men screamed as his robes burst into flames. As I looked to the man frantically trying to put out the fire, I saw the source of the attack appear behind him. A figure, a man running towards us. I immediately noticed the eye sockets which glowed like embers, surrounded by cracked skin. No, that wasn’t skin, the whole body was like it, clumped together and twisted and burnt, all surrounding a hole at the center of the stomach which emanated a fiery light.
One of the cultists released an ice spike from their hands, it embedded into the figure’s chest causing it to stumble backwards, but the creature’s face showed no pain, its red eyes and gaping mouth only turned towards the attacker. Beside it the ash shook once again, a hand shot from the ground, another creature of the same, cracked face emerged crawling from the ash.
“There’s more!”
The cultists surrounded me as the creatures ran towards us, swinging their jagged swords that glowed just like their eyes. More were crawling out of the ground, it looked like soon the cultists would be outnumbered.
“We need to get out of here!”
“Hold your ground, we will not run!”
Their swords met the creature’s bodies, slicing through the odd skin as it fell away into billows of ash. The ash and fire of the island had taken form and began to attack, a flurry of ice spikes and fire blasts surrounded me.
The cultist that held my chains prior was suddenly attacked by another emerging creature, the entire group scattering around me. When my chains were dropped, I saw my opening. I snatched up the loose chain off the ground and bolted. I heard the cultists yell out, but they couldn’t turn their backs to the attackers, allowing me to make my escape.
I ran as if Oblivion itself were behind me. The sounds of the attack grew distant, but I never slowed. As I ran, I raised my bound hands to the gag at my mouth, attempting to jerk it out. Suddenly another blast sounded from behind me. I jerked my head to look back, but as I did, another blast hit the ground beside me. The hot flames hit me with the force of a dragon’s voice, knocking me off my feet and I tumbled to the ground.
I blinked the dry heat from my eyes and shoved my arms against the ash, pushing myself from the ground. I snapped my head to the direction of the blast, seeing one of those
things
running in my direction.
Shit!
I kicked my leg under me to stand, throwing myself into another dash. I had to find a way to get my arms free, or at least I had to find some kind of weapon-
Another blast hit the ground in front of me, an explosion of ash clouding my vision as I raised my arms to protect myself from the fire. I stumbled backwards, but managed to maintain my balance. I ran the back of my arm over my burning eyes, and forced myself to open them. The creature had caught up. My yell got absorbed by the gag as it swung its jagged sword. I raised my hands, catching the edge of it in the chain between my wrists. I felt the fire of its sword burn into the chains, I screamed as the heat of it burned into my wrists. I shoved my arms to the side to push it away.
Fire flickered to life in its other hand, the flames growing larger as I realized that was the source of the blast. It was about to throw another one, I wouldn’t be able to get away fast enough.
A blade sliced through the center of the monster’s stomach. A crackling gasp sounded from its gaping mouth. I took a step back, seeing the fire at its stomach from where the sword pierced spread across its body, the cracked skin falling away into clumps, and finally, it crumpled into a pile of burning embers.
Behind the embers stood the wielder of the sword, a cultist. No, I couldn’t get caught again. As soon as my eyes met the mask, I turned and bolted away again. I didn’t get far when I heard the sound of static behind me, when the sudden blast of sharp, burning pain coursed through my limbs, I let out another muffled scream, my legs giving out under me as I crumpled into the ash.
As the pain faded, I scrambled once again, kicking my legs into the ash as I pushed at the ground to stand. I looked up.
Hollow eyes stared back at me.
I froze in place. My eyes widened,
A massive skull, behind it boney wings jutted out and twisted in unnatural ways.
A dragon. A dragon skull.
I slowly moved back, pushing myself to sit up as my eyes stayed transfixed upon the dead beast.
“You see now, don’t you?”
I heard the leader speak behind me, but I didn’t move.
“You see what our lord is capable of? Look around you,
deceiver.
”
I furrowed my eyebrows. I pushed myself to stand slowly as I finally pulled my eyes away from the skull, looking beyond it.
One, two, four…
They were everywhere. The ground was littered with the bones and skulls of dead dragons. I turned back to the leader, staring at him in anticipation for any kind of explanation.
The rest of the cultists weren’t far behind. They approached behind the leader, one of them stumbling as they clutched their side where the fabric was torn and burnt. I shot my arm up to my gag again in an attempt to jerk it free before they got to close.
“Not so fast,” the leader shot forward, grabbing the chain that hung from my wrists, jerking them so my hands were pulled from the gag. I stumbled towards him, glaring into his mask.
“I won’t let you escape,” he hissed, “not until
he’s
done with you.”
I panted heavily through the gag, holding my glare upon him as the other cultists caught up, one of them taking the chain from the leader before shoving me forward. They took me through the dragon boneyard. I noticed the ash grew thinner here, blades of grass now poked through, the only real sign of life in this place.
Five. seven. ten.
The dragon skeletons were everywhere. Countless numbers of the beasts had come to this place and died. The power I had was capable of killing dragons, of absorbing their souls and leaving nothing but bones. But this… so many… how was such a thing even possible? What kind of temple, what kind of lord were they taking me to? The only thing I knew for certain is that I didn’t want to find out. With every step deeper into the island, into this strange, fucked up place, the building dread pulsed through me with every pounding heartbeat.
I stopped in my tracks. I gripped the chain and jerked my hands. For a moment, I had caught him off guard and the chain slid through his fingers. As I snatched the chain, I shot out a kick at the side of his knee. He yelled out as his leg gave out beneath him. As he fell, I moved as if to run, when a sudden
crack
rang through my mind, the burst of pain exploded from the back of my head, my vision blackening. As I groaned and blinked, I found myself on the ground.
“Careful!” The leader yelled out, and as he did I felt hands wrapping around my arms, jerking me from the ground. I tried to find the ground with my feet, but everything spun as my head hung from the aching pain.
“Keep your grip on her! We can’t risk any delays, not when we’re so close.”
I groaned again, opening and closing my eyes as I tried to see through my clouded vision. I caught sight of one of the men sheathing his dagger, he must have been the one to strike me. I narrowed my gaze at him. It seemed all I had managed to accomplish in my attempt to escape was increased security. Two of the men held my arms now, half-dragging, half-carrying me over the bonefield.
Tink tink tink
At first I thought the distant sound was just a ringing in my ears, but as we moved further, it grew louder. With the sound came a cold breeze, and under my feet the gray ash had turned to white snow. I blinked, still groggy from the strike, but I raised my head despite how heavy it felt. Ahead I saw glaciers rising from the island. For a moment I imagined we were back in Skyrim, until my eyes were drawn to a black structure.
Two columns rose from the snow, the straight columns had odd swirling designs carved into them, spiraling upwards into nothing. Between them were stairs leading up the sharp incline.
Tink tink tink
Louder now. I scrambled to get my footing on the stairs as they dragged me over it. We went under a massive archway, the stone and shape resembled the archways outside of the ancient nordic tombs that spotted Skyrim’s landscapes. I felt a small twinge of hope that perhaps we weren’t so far from Skyrim after all.
I noticed something else around the columns and archways, wooden poles, staircases, ladders. The odd sound was louder now, like hammers on stone. I looked around for the source of the sounds, it seemed to be coming from all around me, from the columns and archways and from the large structure ahead that came into view. It was unlike any temple or tomb I had ever seen before, large and circular, columns on the top towering ominously over the land. The stone that formed it was black, giving it the appearance of being nothing more than a silhouette against the backdrop of the dark sky.
“Here in His shrine,”
a whisper reached my ear. I looked to the column beside me to find the source of the sounds. There stood a Dunmer, carving away at the stone muttering phrases I could not make sense of.
“Here do we toil,”
I looked ahead at the temple as we began to climb the final flight of stairs.
“That we might remember,”
I could hear more voices now, the hammering grew more frequent.
“By night we reclaim,”
We reached the top of the temple walls, I could see men all around us working away at the temple, all quietly chanting.
“What by day was stolen.”
The strange mantra filled the air, the soft voices and the clanging of hammers were all I could hear, all steady in a constant rhythm that matched a beating heart. Not a single sound ceased or changed at our entrance, not one person who worked away on the walls looked our way. I caught sight of Nords working among them, a small bubble of hope growing amidst the confusion. But not even they took notice of their own kind being pulled into this Divine forsaken temple they were building.
“Far from ourselves.”
We crossed the threshold at the top of the stairs under one of the many arches that circled around the whole structure, between each arch another column extended upwards. At each side of the entrance stood two curved arches, like claws extending out of the temple floor, pointing to the center of it all. Stairs circled the whole thing, leading downwards to where a strange dome stood. The design was far different from the nordic looking arches outside, it resembled a smaller version of the temple whole, archways stood as openings, and between them, columns which covered over the top with carved, uneven circles. The dome appeared to house something, something tall, but I couldn’t quite make out what it was.
As I tried to make out what the dome housed, the cultists tightened their grips on my arms, seeming to feel my hesitance, as they led me down the staircases. As we became level with the archways, I peered into the dome.
A pillar, that’s all it was. Not a carefully crafted one like the rest, this one was… crooked, uneven. It didn’t fit in this place, this place which was so meticulously crafted all around it. Yet, as they dragged me closer to the center of the temple, an invisible pull tugged at my chest as I stared at it. I found my eyes drawn to the base, the only part of it that seemed man-made where a kaleidoscope carving pulled me in.
“He grows ever near to us.”
I shook my head, jerking my arms against the cultists’ ever-tightening grip. That pull I felt, it wasn’t natural, it was wrong. I couldn’t allow myself to get closer to it. Around it more curved rocks protruded, reaching claws threatening to drag me in. The cultists only dug their fingers into my arms and pulled me closer to it. Finally, they stopped at the base of it. My gaze remained glued upon those strange carvings.
It seemed to move. In my eyes, at least, the swirls and circles spun with that eerie glow it emitted. The cultists were speaking, but I did not hear. My senses closed to everything else, that tugging became stronger, from the back of my head, a silent thumping. A desire emerged, consuming, it became the only thing that mattered, to touch it.
They tugged at my arms again, they were trying to take me away from it. In my blindness to anything but the stone, I managed to jerk an elbow free and slammed it into one of their stomachs. It was just enough to free myself. I raised my bound hands towards it, but the instant the cold stone met my fingertips, that tugging at the back of my mind thudded with a powerful intensity. As if the stone itself filled my mind, darkness clouded the edges of my vision.
In the distance I thought I could hear yelling. Perhaps someone was shouting for me to stop, but it didn’t matter. Something else filled the darkness in my mind, or rather, some
one
.
“I grow ever near to you… Dragonborn”