Chapter One
The imperial captain is handed a rolled scroll with an official Imperial seal from a courier. After her fingers fight the seal, she straightens it out, skims through it, and then smiles.
When seeing the captain's slightly eerie grin, Sirrus sighs, knowing what her rare good mood means. More Stormcloak soldiers, more executions. "Get a load of this one, Nord." The captain shoves the list in her hands, ripping away to wait for their arrival.
She eyes the captain's back crossly before making herself shrug off the usual treatment she gets from Imperials. And, the insults and finger-pointing she gets from her own kin for 'not being a true Nord'.
Returning to the scroll, Sirrus, reluctant at first, reads through as well, but her eyes widen in surprise when stopping on one name: Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm; the leader of the Stormcloak rebellion. This means that this horrid civil war can finally be done with. This means that she would no longer have to witness another beheading. She can stop being pushed around by the soldiers in Helgen. She can leave, go back to Solitude, and continue her duties as Falk Firebeard's apprentice steward.
As much as it makes her sick, she finds herself eagerly waiting for that wagon to fully pull itself to a stop before them. The rebels, slowly, line up for their names (One talking about 'the mead with the juniper berries'). One, however, starts screaming "I'm not a rebel!" and sprints off. But sadly for that fool, the archers took care of that in moments.
But, when she thinks she is finished reading, another prisoner stands before her, soundless with her hands bound. She then lowers the list, intimidated by the ragged prisoner who does not even spare her a glance. No, she shows no fear whatsoever of what is to come, but her face is kept into a determined scowl.
Sirrus and the Captain regarded this woman for a moment, unnerved by her lack of concern.
"Who are you?" the captain asked. The woman gave no response. Sirrus began to study her closely. This woman's eyes were the first thing everyone saw. They were white as snow, absent of any pupil in the center. By all appearances, this woman was blind. Sirrus wondered if she was deaf as well. Crimson war paint encircled the woman's soulless eyes, and snaked down each side of her neck. She was thin, but appeared to be strong. She was wearing simple prisoner's clothes, which were little more than rags.
"The captain asked you a question." Sirrus pressed. "What is your name?"
"Sythis." The woman replied flatly.
"Sythis?" The captain echoed.
Sirrus searched the list for her name. "She's…not here. Her name isn't here." Growling under her breath, the captain rips the list from her hands and rereads it.
Scoffing, the captain throws the list away and snaps her fingers into a commanding point. "Forget the list! She goes to the block!"
Sirrus winced and looked to the woman. "Your remains will be taken back to your home in Cyrodiil." Her voice of concern did not make the slightest expression. She may have flickered her sight in her direction briefly, but none could tell with such eyes.
Turning on her heel, she heeds the command to line up at the block. Sirrus, as usual, turned her eyes from the ghastly sight as one of the rebel's heads rolled to the ground, detached from his now squirting neck.
Yet, the woman…she did not even blink. She does not even a twitch when it is her turn. For unknown reasons, Sirrus is captivated to watch her drop to her knees and lay her neck down straight for the axe. When her empty gaze turns up to the executioner, an unsettling, unnatural roar is heard in the valley, causing everyone to pause and look to the skies.
"Continue!" The captain shrilly commands.
The executioner huffed, and lifted the axe above his head once more; poised for the deadly strike. Sythis kept her unnatural gaze fixed on him, expressionless as her fate loomed above her.
Even though Sirrus thought nothing would break her attention from this, something black flashed around the sky. She was unable to distinguish anything about the shape, but she was glad to know that it was not a figment of her imagination.
Others also turned their watch until it showed itself again, landing on top of the tower behind the executioner. Its sharp maw opened to roar again, but this time, sending a wave of flames to follow its fury, roasting the unaware executioner alive.
The world around her turned silent and frozen as she felt as though she was locked into the creature's eyes. A dragon, it cannot be— she had only heard of such things in books. Books which depicted them as legend but she had instantly turned up her nose and pronounced it a myth.
But while she was staggered in place, she failed to realize that everyone around her had scattered and that the prisoner had jumped away from the block. When a firm fist plunges into her stomach, she reanimates in agony and falls to the ground. The fist then seizes a handful of her black hair as she is dragged into a tower.
She trembles in horror as the white eyes burn a murderous glare into her. "Where is the way out?!" the warrior commands, her bound hands now clenching her throat.
She still tries to break from her shock. "Dra- dragon-" another punch across her cheek finally snaps her completely back to her senses.
"I can see that!" Sythis roared angrily. "Where is the way out?!"
"I don't know! I just write the letters and documents! You know— desk work!" She quivers, seeing that she is not at all appeased.
"Then you are of no further use to me!" She picks up a chunk of fallen stone and reels her arm back to bash her brains in.
Sirrus's hands fly up in defense "Wait! Wait!" her urgent scream halts the driving stone. Sythis arches a brow, impatiently waiting for an answer. "I know of a passage! It leads to a cave but I'm not sure if it leads outside—"
"Then move it!" she forces her up and pushes her out the door.
As the warrior pushes her along, destruction falls all around them as the scaled creature tears apart the town. Seeing imperials close by, she starts shouting for them for help, but they are far too preoccupied to hear her cries over the ruin. Sythis ignores it all as she follows behind the girl who now knows that finding this passage is her only option.
Finally, her hands fly around the handles of the familiar door, she had found it! As soon as the doors open, a hard kick is delivered to her back, sending her flying in. Sythis quickly jumps inside as well and manages to slam the door shut to block another wave of dragon fire. It seemed as if they were inside a room of one of the towers in the compound. Wooden tables lay in splintered pieces, and bleeding bodies of imperial guards littered the floor as if they were a child's unwanted playthings.
Sirrus's back is pressed against the stone as a dull blade is thrown at her feet.
"Cut my bindings. Now!" Sythis demanded. Sirrus obeyed immediately. Sythis rubbed her wrists and glanced around the stone room.
"There's weapons here. You'd better arm yourself. You know how to use a sword, don't you?" Sythis said.
"Um…well…I don't fight. I don't use any weapons. But, I do know something of a bow…I think." Sirrus stuttered.
"Well, find one then!" Sythis growled as she pulled a sword from a guard's dead body. She kicked the body over, and stripped it of it's armor. Trembling, Sirrus pulled a simple longbow from the dead fist of an officer and tested it's strength. She turned and saw Sythis wearing the armor of the slain guard.
"What the-you're wearing the dead guy's clothes?!" Sirrus exclaimed.
"Yes, and I suggest you do the same!" Sythis said with a proud expression. Sirrus glanced at the closest slain soldier and swallowed hard. Just the sight of his mangled corpse made her want to vomit. She threw Sythis a pleading look.
"Do I have to?" she whispered.
"Go on!" Sythis barked as she turned to grab a second iron sword.
"Why do you need two swords?" Sirrus asked.
"One for each hand." Sythis smiled. "Hurry up before this dragon brings this place down around our ears!" Sirrus winced and grabbed for the slain soldier's armor.
"Oh gods…I'm so sorry for this." Sirrus said to the corpse. She had a bit of difficulty pulling the armor from the slain soldier's stiff body, but she managed to work it around the rigor mortis. Once she had the armor on herself, she took a quiver filled with iron arrows from the floor. She turned to find Sythis standing by a large wooden door, staring at her expectantly.
"Are you quite finished?"
"Yes." Sirrus said sorely. This woman's impatience was beginning to get on her nerves.
"Good." Sythis turned and threw open the door. Sirrus stood behind her and stared out cautiously into the damp stone hallway.
"Scared?"
"No." Sirrus said defensively. Sythis scoffed and strode boldly into the hallway. Sirrus followed her down the stairs and into a larger room closed off by a pair of iron gates. Sythis stopped abruptly, as Sirrus ran into her back.
"Ow! What is your problem?!" Sirrus exclaimed.
"Imperials!" the hushed voice came from the room behind the gate. "Prepare yourself!"
"Stormcloaks." Sythis smiled.
"What do we do?!"
"You have a bow, do you not? Put it to good use!" Sythis said as she drew her swords. She rushed towards the black gates and sent them crashing open with one swift kick. A pair of Stormcloak soldiers rushed out from behind the stone walls with their weapons drawn and their teeth bared.
"For Skyrim!" they cried. A wild grin spread itself on Sythis' face and she rushed into the fray with a roar. Sirrus couldn't knock an arrow fast enough before both Stormcloak soldiers lay slain at Sythis' feet. Instead, she stood there, clinging onto her bow with both hands as Sythis gazed proudly at her new kill.
"If you want to kill something, you have to be a bit faster than that, Nord." Sythis said, turning in her direction. "Otherwise, you're useless to have around."
"It seems as if you don't need any help." Sirrus managed. Sythis shrugged.
"Keep moving." Sythis snatched a key off of one of the bodies and then spat on it as she walked by. Sirrus wrinked her nose at Sythis' blatant disrespect for the dead, but decided she should say nothing. Sythis used the key to unlock the opposite gate and Sirrus followed her out into another large stone hallway. At the opposite end were a handful of Imperial soldiers.
"Escaped prisoner! Get her!" they cried. Sirrus reached for her bow when the roof of the hallway partially caved in, blocking the soldiers from reaching them. Sythis glanced up as the crashing of the rubble was followed by the scream of the attacking dragon.
"Damn dragon." She breathed.
"I, for one, am grateful that happened. It saved us from having to deal with them." Sirrus interjected.
"I'm not going to give you the pleasure of responding to that. Look around for another door."
"There's one here! On your left." Sirrus pointed. Sythis strode over to it and threw it open. Both women stepped through into a large storage room.
"Oh, goody! Supplies!" Sythis said, looking around.
"Isn't that stealing?" Sirrus asked. Sythis blinked at her.
"…What?"
"We'd be stealing! Everything in here belongs to the Imperial Legion! We can't just take this stuff!"
"I can tell that I'm really, really not going to like you." Sythis sighed. "Look around for anything we might need."
"Like?"
"Potions! Weapons! Septims! The mead with the juniper berries! What do you think?!" Sythis snapped.
"Okay, okay…." Sirrus said, walking away as Sythis busied herself with a nearby trunk. Sirrus turned the corner and screamed. There were two Imperial soldiers trying to pry open a barrel. When they saw Sirrus, they rushed at her with their weapons drawn. Sirrus barely had time to think. She took out her bow and swung it at one of the soldiers. The wooden bow connected to the soldiers head with a sharp smack, and he staggered, surprised.
"I'm so sorry!" Sirrus cried as she continued to bludgeon the soldier's head and neck with her bow. The other one was nearly on top of her when he got blindsided by Sythis. She embedded both blades deep into his chest and lifted him up over her head. For a moment she looked into the dying soldier's twisted face and smiled before throwing his limp body to the floor. Sirrus was still hitting the other soldier repeatedly and apologizing at the same time. Sythis sheathed her swords and grabbed Sirrus by the shoulders.
"Hey, hey!" Sythis said. "He's dead! You got him! You can stop now!" Sirrus gave the man one more good smack before stopping to look at Sythis.
"Wh..wha-?" She breathed heavily.
"He's dead! You can stop whacking him now!" Sythis chuckled.
"I know!" Sirrus exclaimed. She watched Sythis as she began to laugh at her. Her laughter started as a quiet giggle and then quickly blossomed into an all-out guffaw. "Why are you laughing?" Sirrus asked as she clenched onto her bow.
"Be…because!" Sythis gasped. "That's…not how you use one!"
"I know!" Sirrus growled, annoyed. She replaced her bow on her back and glared at Sythis as she continued to laugh.
"I…I'm sorry!" Sythis managed after a moment. "That's just…the most ridiculous thing I've ever seen! I do give you credit for creativity, however…." Sythis wiped her eyes, and began to rummage through the barrel the soldiers had been so interested in a few moments ago.
"I…they surprised me. I panicked." Sirrus said, pouting.
"I don't care what was going through your head. That was one of the funniest damn things-ah ha!" Sythis exclaimed suddenly. "Potions! Minor health, minor magicka…and minor stamina, it seems." Sythis reached into the barrel and tossed bottle after bottle to Sirrus. "Carry these." Sythis ordered. "And let's keep moving."
Sirrus glared at her back, and begrudgingly stuffed the potions into a nearby sack which she slung over her shoulder. As the warrior greedily rummaged through the whole room—even picking a lock of a cage just to retrieve a few coins— Sirrus walked around, awkwardly waiting. That is, until a cover of a tattered, black book caught her eye, the word 'Dragonborn' seemed to glow to her.
But when picking it up, the book is instantly smacked out her hands and on to the ground. "Are you serious?! I'm sacrificing time to escape for supplies, and the only thing you manage to find interesting is a book?!" Sythis harshly scolds her before hearing more crashing from the dragon above. She then jerks her arm to quickly follow and they both sprint down the tunnel.
But at the end, they meet with a small battle between the Imperials and the Stormcloaks. However, only few take notice of the two trying to slip past. Three brandish their weapons and run towards them, but when Sythis extends her arms into a twin bladed embrace, two of them fall to the ground with bleeding slits across their jugulars.
The last one stands frozen in place as he watches the creepy woman clean the blood off her cheek with a swipe of her gauntlet. When hearing his smothered quivering, she tilts her head at him with a sinister smile which unnerves him enough to finally drop his weapon and run away. "Coward! Just let me stab you a few times! You're going to die eventually!" she calls to him, holding her blades hungrily until noticing Sirrus had disappeared.
Sighing, she strides over to a shaking barrel, chops of the top of it, reaches down, and reclaims the trembling Nord by holding her up by the collar. As her fear-stricken turquoise eyes meet the blank ones that are sharpened in disgust, she shrinks in her hold even more.
"You're pathetic!" Sythis growls.
"And you're a violent monster!" she insults back.
Instead of retaliating, the sides of her mouth perk up "I try." she shrugs. She then drops her and the ground the shoves her forward again. "You. Lead. Now." her commands turn impatient once more.
They successfully slip past any more enemies and trek down a cave with a stream rushing around their feet. Though the water is very cold, Sirrus cannot feel it over her relief that they were almost out and the noises of the dragon could no longer be heard. The smell of nature and the faint blowing of a fresh breeze now helped her lead the way.
But when Sythis's surprisingly vigil eyes spot something, she grabs the girl's shoulder and retracts her back behind a rock. "Bear." she simply informs.
Sirrus, caught by surprise, peeks over the side and sees the beast sleeping soundly beside the stream. However, around its body were skeletons…and some not completely barren of flesh. "Avoiding it! Yes! Good thinking!" he happily says.
However, her brief glee is automatically replaced by confusion and worry when the hard woman shook her head, grinning again. "No, I just wanted you to stay out of the way while I get myself that pelt!"
She springs over the rock with swords in hand while shouting at the creature. At first, it roars furiously back, and then it starts to whine and whimper. Sirrus peeks around the rock again, though, she wished she hadn't as she turns her head away and fights from gaging.
Filled with pride, Sythis now holds up a pelt which she somehow, already stripped from the dead animal. "I think I'm going to be rich!" she cheers.
"I think I'm going to be sick…" Sirrus holds her stomach and mouth, rejoining her side.
