I was 13 when I killed my first dragon. For a young girl who grew up in Riverwood, it was unheard of. Even many guild-trained warriors hadn't accomplished such a feat.
So unheard of, that nobody believes me, of course. The villagers whisper that I tripped over my sword, while running from an imaginary dragon, and burnt myself in the kitchen in a shamefully distracted state.
"That'll be the cause of those unsightly scars and burns," they gossip. Glares always follow my back down the lane. 4 years had passed, and I was just as self-conscious as ever. My fellow villagers didn't once consider that I could hear their snide comments, and feel their judging stares. When I was younger, I prayed to Thor and Odin that they would send me some form of affirmation that would make the villagers believe me, but I gave that up long ago.
The threat of dragons was still real, but the villagers of Riverwood would only believe what they thought to be a myth if one landed on their landing.
"Hurry up, Irenja! You're slower than a mudcrab!"
Albret, my only friend out of all of the condemnatory villagers, liked to tease me for all sorts of things. He was the only person that believed my unlikely story. His house was where I ran to after meeting the dragon, with burn marks which rivalled most warriors', and scrapes which could only be explained as claw marks.
Riverwood's gates got closer. I saw this as a sign of imminent doom, rather than a joyful homecoming. Village life was duller than an overcast day. I longed for a hint of blue sky, or even some lightening to brighten the unnecessarily long days. Other villagers in Riverwood were as complacent as the livestock they farmed, yet I yearned for excitement and adventure. Those very ideas were cursed and unthinkable in the dreary village of Riverwood.
Glares followed me as I traipsed down the worn lane. Albret walked, almost dutifully, by my side. He had been my friend since childhood; I felt immense guilt every time I saw how I caused him to be an outcast like me. Albret deserved much better than this. If I left Riverwood, then maybe he could have a chance of befriending the village boys and girls his age.
"She's bringing a curse upon our village! Exile the witch!" One man cried, as he usually does. Luckily, the villagers don't see me as enough of a threat to burn me, just yet. When my 18th birthday approaches, they may reconsider the idea of burning me. Perhaps they haven't burned me yet out of respect for my dead father, who was the closest thing these people had to a Jarl, before he died 3 years ago. He was well respected among the villagers. After my humiliation with the dragon, he never took sides, though I suspect he didn't quite believe me. Nonetheless, I appreciated his not exiling me out of fatherly love. If it weren't for him, I would have been exiled or beheaded by now, but that will change when I come of age next winter. By that time, I will be long gone from this gods-forsaken village.
I hurried inside my hut, nodding a quick farewell to Albret, knowing that the glares would never follow him if I left. The heavy wooden door was my saviour each day; any judgemental stares would never broach the solidarity of the thick planks of pine.
Since my father passed, my mother couldn't deal with looking after me on her own, or with the scorn of the villagers. She abandoned me when I needed her the most, so I haven't bothered trying to find her, or even find out if she's still alive. So, for three long years, I have lived alone. At least there was nothing tying me down to this decrepit village. I could leave when I wanted, I kept on telling myself.
It had taken me months to work up enough courage to leave, and if I kept putting it off, I would never leave. I gazed around what had been my sanctuary for my entire life, putting my few remaining belongings into a pack. Father's sword lay collecting dust on the shelf, and I couldn't bear to leave it here to rust any further, so I strapped the comforting weight in a scabbard onto my waist. All of my mother's belongings that were left behind in her haste to move on could rot here in Riverwood, I had no need for any unnecessary weight in my journey. I had everything I needed with me, some food, water, some odd trinkets I've collected over the years, and finally my weapons; Father's sword, and my hunting bow. Anything else was irrelevant, and would weigh me down later.
The only thing left to do was to say goodbye to Albret, my hardest task yet. All I had to do was knock on his door, and say one or two words, but I couldn't bear to face his disappointment. He would be sad that I've lost the will to fight for my place in the village. The easiest thing to do would be to write a note, and I'm sure he'd understand.
"Dear Albret, thank you for being a good friend all of these years when I needed you. I hope you won't be mad to know that I'm leaving Riverwood. For good. I must find my own way, and you must find yours, without me dragging you down. Thank you for all of your care and support, I wouldn't have made it anywhere without you. Irenja."
I snuck out onto the streets at dusk to deliver the missive. Slipping it under his worn door, I whispered a quick goodbye, and prayed to Odin that he would have a good life. This was it, nothing would stop me from leaving, and I was glad of that. The gates of Riverwood looked better than before, now that I was walking out of them, never to walk through them again.
My journey had started, and not even a thousand dragons could stop me. Resolve hardened my thoughts, making me not regret a single day of my existence. Mountains taller than the clouds faded into existence. Perhaps walking to a guild on the other side of the land would take more effort than I thought.
After hours of striding up, down and across hills, I lay a blanket down by a log, hoping to get some sleep before walking again. Two blinks later, and I had fallen asleep. A pleasant fog covered my brain, leaving me to have a dreamless sleep.
The sound of claws on rocks and a low growl woke me in the middle of the night. Moonlight shone on the log, and lit the eyes of the creatures that surrounded me. I slowly reached for my sword, cursing myself for being so careless. It scraped on the rocks, a small sound nonetheless, but enough of a trigger for the wolves to attack. I braced, preparing for the worst, and accepting my foolhardy doom. Instead of flesh tearing, I heard a yelp, and the clang of claws on steel. There was a tall man, silhouetted by the moonlight, who was defending me from these wolves.
After the short, almost one-sided battle with the wolves, he strode confidently over to me. Was he a friend, or not? Hoping that he didn't want to steal my meagre belongings, I held my sword up.
"Whoa, now! So, Irenja, why did you leave without asking me to come along? It's clear that you need me." My best and only friend stood before me, grinning as if I hadn't just left without saying anything.