"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.

"Soraya."

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 Bosmer, Faendal. He emerged from the trees with a bow in his hands and fresh rabbit carcasses swinging loosely from his belt. Before I could stand to greet him, he unbuckled one of the rabbits and sat down besides my tree, plopping the animal on the grass next to me.

"You know I can hunt for myself," I chuckled, shutting my book 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 an airy laugh as he leaned back against the tree, setting his bow besides 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 to my internal struggles. I decided it best to 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 awhile."

"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 traces 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 that I realized how tired I felt. It was an odd sensation of exhaustion that overcame me as the remaining light from 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. Sword, bows, axes, all flourished in the night, ready to strike at an unseen foe. Fog had emerged, 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 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 sillouette of his wings spread, beating above the trees. I looked up at the sky. It was dark, there were no stars or moon, yet somehow I could still see his black scales against the backdrop of the darkness.

"Zu'u lost daal!"

I shivered at the sound of his voice, that old fear returning to my mind. "I... I destroyed you! You're dead!"

"Zu'u unslaad! zu'u nis oblaan!" He responded. I could see soldiers, warriors, heroes, all consumed by the darkness of the World Eater.

"Nu hin sil dii, Dovahkiin!"

I fell on my knees. "No! No..." A new darkness wrapped around me, a solid, bubbling mass of ink. I was sinking into it, sinking into the shadows.

I forced opened my eyes, gripping my blankets until my knuckles turned white.

"What kind of a dream was that?" I sat up in my bed, seeing the dim glow of embers in the fireplace. "I felt so... Helpless. Why? Why is this old fear resurfacing?"

I slid my legs over the side of the bed and stood up. I put more wood into the fire to keep it going, I wanted the warmth and light. I sat down by the fire, wrapping my blankets around me.

"What do I do now? Everything seems so empty. My voice... Hardly worth anything now."

I froze. I thought I heard something...

THUD THUD THUD

I was hearing something, the sound of someone knocking on the doors. I looked at my doors, confused. Why would someone be here? Especially at this hour. Who is that? I stood and cautiously made my way to the door. I had a bad feeling... I didn't know who was there, but I didn't want to open my doors.

"Faendal? Ralof?" I called, hoping it was just one of them.

I received no response.

I didn't want to answer. I was afraid of who it might be, but it was an odd sort of dread. I couldn't explain it... I just felt oddly afraid.

As if to fuel my fear, the knocks suddenly turned into bangs. Someone really wanted to get in, and I didn't know why. I didn't have a place to hide, my house was no more than a small cabin. I'd rather just stop them before they broke my doors and damaged my house. I grabbed a dagger and tucked it in my belt, then approached the doors.

"Who is it?" I called. No response.

I took a step back and opened my doors. There was nothing.

"Huh? What... Who there?" I stepped outside, looking both ways to see if there was someone there, but still, there was no one. I decided to head back in. There had to be someone out here... Or maybe it was just a buck who rammed its antlers against my door, then ran off? Either way, I turned to go back in.

"Now," I heard a whisper, but before I could turn back around, I felt someone wrap their arm around my neck and yank me back, away from my door. I gasped in surprise, and tried to reach for something in front of me to pull myself away.

"Bind her mouth! Do not allow her Voice to reach the village!"

I grabbed the arm and attempted to pull it away from my neck when I felt more arms, belonging to two more people. Each grabbed one of my hands and pulled it away from the arm on my neck, which made its way to my mouth, pulling a cloth over so I couldn't yell or shout.

"You do not really think she is dragonborn? Only our master-"

"Do not speak! We will take no risks!"

Both voices were deep and quiet, each the voice of a male. I tried to struggle, I tried pulling my arms away from the men, but I suddenly froze as I felt the cold point of a blade against my neck. I couldn't see anything, I couldn't make out who had taken hold of me, it was too dark.

I heard something- a crack, it rang through my head, a strange sensation followed. Was that pain? No, rather...

I couldn't make sense of what had happened, I just knew that suddenly I felt heavy, my head feeling light. I closed my eyes, unsure of what to do.

Was I to give in this easily? I never went down without a fight, never. But why shouldn't I have just given in? I wanted rest from the world, I deserved it, did't I?

I don't know how much time had passed. It seemed like an eternity, or just a few moments. All I knew is that I felt tired, I just wanted a rest from the world and all the evil that resided within it. Battle after battle I have fought to protect the world, to stand up for what was right. I had done enough.

A familiar cold breeze blew past my cheeks. I opened my eyes to see the tall snowy mountains of my homeland dot the horizon. This is the land I loved and fought for, it was safe now. Peace should reign, no more fighting.

I looked beside me to see the face of a friend I had grown to care for deeply. A face that was there for me as the fight grew tough.

"Ralof..."

He smiled in response, then looked out at the mountains. "Skyrim... Our home. It is beautiful, isn't it?"

"Yes," I continued to look at him. We stood by the river that ran through Ralof's home village of Riverwood. This village soon became my home as well when Ralof and his family took me in years ago, at the start of all the madness. That was after we had witnessed the return of the dragons, before I discovered that I was the one destined to destroy the World-Eater.

Ralaf turned from me and looked into the river, the smile disappearing from his face. "But this is not your home anymore," he said quietly.

"What do you mean? This always was, and always will be my home," I responded, smiling still. I could hear birds singing and the sound of the water rushing through the river. It was peaceful and calm, I shall never leave.

"You're all alone," he spoke again. I shook my head and looked at the water. "I have you, Ralof, you've come home."

"No one to save you," his voice cut through the air. It was suddenly silent, even the wind had stopped, but a chill still remained in the air.

"Stop saying these things," I was growing angry, "the war is over Ralof, we have peace!"

Ralaf turned again and grabbed my arms with both his hands. "It's not over yet, your time grows near." His face twisted into a wide, unnerving grin. His eyes looked somehow lifeless. I squirmed in his grasp, this wasn't Ralof. Something was wrong, I needed to get away.

"No one to save you."

The fighting would never end. Tighter... Tighter... His grips burned, like tight rope. Everything around me, the river, the mountains, my home, seemed to fade into an inky blackness.

I just screamed. I kicked, I flailed, I fought. But who was I fighting? This wasn't Ralof, there was something wrong, everything seemed to be rocking, my head hurt, and all I could do was scream.

"H...hmmp..." I moaned groggily. "Wh...whhr...whht..." I could feel my eyes shut, I could feel reality flowing back into me, and I could feel my whole body rocking back and forth, almost rhythmically. My mind was a mess of confusion, trying to make sense of anything. I slowly opened my eyes, Some of my hair had fallen out of the braid and into my face, I tried moved my hand up to push it out of my eyes when I felt something wrong. My arms were still burning, and I couldn't move them. My hands felt attached, bound together. I panicked, trying to pull my hands apart, trying to move, trying to get my hair out of my face. I opened my mouth to yell for help, but something covered my mouth, something tight. I was scared, I panicked, I couldn't see, couldn't move, couldn't walk, so I struggled at the bindings. Suddenly, as I struggled and pulled at what felt like ropes around my hands and arms, I felt a sharp blow to the gut. It came so unexpectedly it knocked the wind out of me. Pain shot through my body, I wanted to gasp for air but my mouth remained bound. I could only breathe through my nose, quick, heavy breaths of air. I brought my knees, which were bound to each other, up to my stomach, curling into a ball.

"Careful, idiot! He said to bring her alive!" A male voice shouted. I recognized the voice... But from where?

It all came flowing back to me. I walked out of my house, I turned and then...

"What's it matter, if she's alive or not?" Another gruff voice argued.

"What do you think, dimwit? He wants her soul, if she's dead she's useless to Him."

I froze. What? What did he mean by that? Were they talking about me?

"A kick to gut teaches her a lesson, it won't kill her. 'Specially not her."

The first voice grunted in annoyance. "Get out of here, worthless skeever! I'll tend to her myself."

I heard footsteps, one storming away and another approaching me. Through my hair, I could barely make out the boots of a man, but it was hard to tell. I felt my hair pushed out of my face, and I found myself staring up at a white mask. It had tentacle-like appendages carved out in the sides, and two eyespots dented into the mask with three holes at the location of the nose. I wanted to see his face, I wanted to see if he meant harm or if he was trying to help. His mask just gave him the expression of a blank stare, neither friendly nor hostile. Who was it? What race was he? The mask gave me that feeling of being lost and confused, not knowing right or wrong or who to trust...

"I do apologize for my comrade's actions," the voice behind the mask spoke, "and I apologize for the bindings as well. However..." He paused for a moment, then continued, "These simple discomforts will soon be the least of your worries, I'm sure."

I furrowed my brows at the masked man, as if to question what he meant, but he just stood and turned away, offering no further explanation.

Now able to see with my eyes no longer covered, I got a good look at the dark sky, covered in a veil of smoke, and the wooden deck I rested upon of a vessel rocking back and forth on the untamed waters. The ship was boarded by common sailors, walking about performing their duties, never taking notice of me.

"Land ho!" I heard a sailor cry. I tried to lift my head a bit to see if I could catch a glimpse of the land where we were headed, but my sore neck only caused me to lie back down and try to find a more comfortable position. I needed to know where they were taking me, but my gagged mouth kept me from asking anything.

Time seemed to slow for the next hour or so as the ship approached the land. I kept my eyes looking upward at the dark sky, trying to think of ways I could escape. If only the gag could be removed, then at least I would have my Thu'um.

The sailors scrambled to dock the ship. I saw the men throw an anchor over the side, and it was then I caught a glimpse of the land. Barren, desolate, nothing green in sight. It looked like snow covered the ground, perhaps we were still near Skyrim, I hoped desperately.

I felt two pairs of strong hands grab hold of my arms and pull me to my feet. My legs were asleep and I felt faint, but I did my best to stand with the help of the two men. I looked left to right at the men holding me, I saw they were both wearing the same clothes and the same white mask. Who were these people? Were they a part of some kind of cult? Then I wondered which man it was that spoke to me earlier. I knew I couldn't trust anyone, but I somehow felt a little safer knowing he was around, whoever he was. They pulled me off the ship and we stepped onto the land. This was when I noticed something: it wasn't cold. If snow were covering the ground, then it should be cold like Skyrim. Instead I felt heat blowing into my face, like I was sitting in front of a large fire. Then it hit me, it was not snow at all, it was ash. I could see trees burnt down, embers still glowing where fires once raged. How did this happen?

I was not given time to think further however, as I was shoved forward by the men. My legs, weak, gave out beneath me and I stumbled forward, falling face first into the ash. Before I could pull myself up I felt a large hand grab the back of my neck, I grunted as I was yanked upwards onto my knees. I sat there looking out at the ashen island, I could see a mountain rising high further inland, and much more of the island covered in more ash and dead trees.

"That is our destination," I heard the familiar voice speak. I looked to see the cultist man walk past me, now pointing towards the mountain. "It will remind you much of your own home, cold and desolate." He paused as if awaiting a response, but I had none to give through my gagged mouth. I tried to stand, but only felt more hands grab my shoulder and head and push me down.

"That is where our master awaits, deep within his temple. His soul remains trapped, and you," he turned to face me. I wished I could see his face and understand his expressions. "You will return him to us."

I looked at him, confusion in my eyes. I wanted to ask what he meant, I wanted to ask who his master was, but I could only stare, no knowledge as to where I was or where I was going.