A/N: Howdy! Welcome to my first ever Skyrim fanfiction! This is my translation of my own Skyrim fanfic, MV: Élan, which is an interactive story posted on FFOBS, a Portuguese language-only fanfiction website. This was written as part of a project to write fanfiction based on real music videos, hence this work is based on Nightwish's Élan (2015). Therefore, as I'm no official translator, please bear with me. I apologise for any mistakes and do tell me if you spot any of them. I hope you enjoy!

Prologue. Forsaken Places.

Wind and sky were the main elements of the white deserts that encompassed the Northern lands. In most of Skyrim, one could see only snow, forests, valleys and mountains. Therefore, it was no wonder that the province was known throughout Tamriel as the land of the Nords – big, hardy, cold-resisting people. Even though Skyrim had nine Holds, no other Holds were as desolate as The Pale and Winterhold.

Inna was well accustomed to abandoned places as she wandered and travelled through the North. After all, given that she had been born and raised in the North, she was surrounded by such desolate lands. Inna looked like every other Nord due to her height, physical strength and snow-white hair. She did not quite understand why her pointed ears caused strangeness - in order to avoid any inappropriate questioning in her rare trips to the cities, she would always wear a hood, thus leaving only a few locks of her white hair out of it. In a way, she was quite glad to live so far away from Skyrim's main cities; hence, her only companions would be the elements and the wildlife.

Inna dismounted a few yards away from Nightgate Inn. She proceeded to nod to the Snowy Sabre Cat in front of her, and it growled in reply. She avoided touching it, for she knew how reckless such beasts could be, and thus saw him return to the forest, passing through some thick trees. Inna's gaze lingered for a moment on the white owl perched on the roof of the inn, and wondered for a moment why those animals always seemed to follow her.

The tavern was perhaps the closest thing that Inna had to a home. The owner, Hadring - an old, kind, yet ignorant Nord - had allowed Inna to live there ever since he had found her at the age of eleven, malnourished and homeless, living with wild animals in the outskirts of Windhelm. Although Hadring was far from being a father to her, Inna was grateful to have a roof over her head. There were only two more residents in the tavern - a mysterious Orc called Balagog gro-Nolob who was always dressed in noble clothes and a melancholic Nord named Fultheim. Of the two, the Orc seemed more likeable to Inna. Fultheim was also not talkative, but he always commented that although Gro-Nolob liked to talk and meet people, he ought to remain hidden. In fact, he hardly never spoke to her; she did not understand why she was so mysterious, but she was not interested in knowing more about him either. It was enough for her that everyone got along without the need to be close.

Inna had just dropped her sack of supplies on the bed when she noticed a note on the small wooden table against the wall. She had to narrow her eyes to be able to read due to the lack of reading practice:

"Amulet stolen, need it back.

I am from the Caravans, meet me near Dawnstar in two nights.

– K".

Inna crushed the note in her palm and went to the counter in the main part of the inn, where Hadring was serving cooked rabbit to a traveller.

"Hadring!" She spoke louder than she'd imagined, causing Fultheim and the traveller to look at her. She opened her hand, putting the crumpled note on the counter. "I found this note in my room. Do you know who delivered it? "

Hadring ran a hand through his white hair, as if it cost him to remember it. As if he did anything else than just staying in this old place, Inna thought impatiently. "I believe that yesterday ... in the afternoon, a courier came asking for you and left it. Funny kid, 'wore a hat and blue robes - "

"Did he say anything about who sent the letter? My employer?" Hadring and Fultheim laughed without humour. "Oh no," he replied, "He said it was 'for your hands only' and that he could not say anything more. That lad think' he was too important... ". The two men continued to grumble as the traveller ate in silence. Inna ignored them and, after eating a quick meal of goat leg, began to prepare all sorts of supplies, tossing them into her shabby supply bag.

One of Skyrim's largest cities awaited her, and the long road through the frozen wasteland required all kinds of supplies.