The story begins with an alternative start. Before war. Before Helgen. Before everything. Where the Dovahkiin was none but just as normal as the norm. A human-being with weakness, fear, and passion. A human-being with feelings.
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Chapter I : The Arrival
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In quiet little city like Morthal, dusk comes sooner compared to other holds. Well... except for Winterhold, where the blizzardstorm is almost eternal.
Idgrod Ravencrone sat upon the throne inside the Highmoon Hall of Morthal, lost in her thoughts as her eyes stared blankly at the sizzling fire-pit before her. Dark circles portraying the many sleepless nights she'd been battling with her vision-like nightmares.
"Aslfur... "
Her croaky voice finally broke the silence within the hall, as the Jarl called out her husband.
"Yes, Idgrod." He gently took her hand in his, as he stepped next to her throne. "What is it, dear?" he asked, trying to hide the hint of concern in his tone.
Aslfur waited in patience as his wife's clouded eyes drifted onto their intertwined fingers, yet no words. It pains him to see her so intoxicated with her visions although he embraces the gift as much as she does.
She finally looked up into his eyes before letting out a soft sigh... of relief??
"Husband. Could I ask you a favor?" Her thin lips curled at the corners.
The steward was taken aback. It had been months since he'd last seen his wife make such expression as closest to a smile. Oh how he wishes to capture this moment in a frame. "Of course, Idgrod." A broad smile plastered across his own face as he gave her hand a squeeze. "Anything at all."
The jarl trained her eyes back onto their hands. Her shoulders relaxed as she sighed in content. "Could you address a request for a room.. at the Moorside Inn to Jonna?"
"O-of course, my love.." Aslfur furrowed his brows in thorough confusion. "But for whom may I ask?"
"It's for the mage" the jarl replied, as she finally turned and met his eyes.
He frowned with distaste. "What? You mean Falion?"
Not that he has any problem with the redguard wizard living in their city, but because of the already constant incoming complaints from the citizens he has to deal with. Although the wizard was so far no harm, his presence alone negatively affects the peace of their haven.
The jarl shook her head slowly.
"No, Aslfur... Not him."
The faint creaking sound of the wood rhymed as their only daughter, Idgrod the Younger, descended from the staircase. Wearing her usual red dress, a small dagger strapped to her waist belt. Dark brown waves cascading gracefully over her shoulder in a braid. The girl smiled at them and gave a small nod.
Aslfur watched the jarl nod in response, her eyes lingering on their daughter, as she merely whispered an answer to him.
"The one from my visions... has come."
Aslfur felt his breath caught in his chest as his whole body stiffened. "A-Are you sure?" he stammered and quickly turned to see their daughter making her way to the door of the Highmoon Hall.
"Yes, Aslfur... The vision was as vivid as crystal..."
The heavy silence returned as they both watched their daughter disappear behind the door with a thud.
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The sky was painted in orange rays as the sun sank lower behind the horizon. The already cold breeze was becoming harsher and wilder with tiny snowflakes. In a few hours, there'd be heaps of snows in the city. Typical weather of Evening Star in Morthal.
Just outside the Highmoon Hall, stood no other than the maiden of Morthal, whom all across Skyrim knew as soon-to-be the youngest jarl to succeed a throne, Idgrod the Younger.
"This headache is killing me". She sighed and gently pressed her fingers at the temples.
Idgrod knew she hadn't been productive for the day. And normally, that would have frustrated her and made her push harder. But right now, at this very moment, she couldn't care less. The throbbing in her skull had been too overwhelming to bear since morning.
It was different. Different from her usual headaches. The pain was more intense. More severe. Almost maddening.
For a minute, she wondered if such pain was what her mother has to put up with every single day, having the gift.
She couldn't help but stress at the thought.. for not being in line of inheritance for the blessing. Mother has it. Her little brother Joric has it.
But why not me?
How would she lead these people of Morthal and avoid grave catastrophes like mother did? How could she possibly foresee what's coming without these visions?
Idgrod shook her head. Self-doubt is the least she needed right now with the headache already needling her. Plus the studies she needs to do before the coronation.
"Tag! You're it!" Giggles filled the street as the children ran up and down along, already claiming the walkway as their tag-ground, her brother among them.
Idgrod breathed in the chilly air and let her footsteps lead across the street to her favourite shop in Morthal; the Thaumaturgist's Hut.
She could see Lami leaning against the the hut. Although the shopkeeper was 7 years older, she was also the only other person in their city who warmly accepted her and her mother's mystic gift.
"How are the headaches, dear? You or ya' mother still having them?" The blonde woman asked.
Idgrod straightened up a bit and struggled a weak smile in return. "Oh, yes... All the time. They come with the visions, as always."
Of course, that was a lie. She didn't have the gift like she wants the people of Morthal to believe. But neither she wants them to think she wasn't rightful to be crowned just because she didn't have it.
The smile on Lami's face faded into a frown at her answer. "Are ya' sure ya' don't want something for them? I may be able to brew ya' something to help."
"Oh no! I couldn't. Mother says they are a burden we must bear for our gift." She gave her the same well-thought-out excuse she had always used to avoid the matter.
The shopkeeper huffed in defeat "Well dear, ya' know where to find me if it ever becomes too much for ya'. Okay? Now. Is there anything else I can help ya' with?"
The question instantly made Idgrod beam. And for a brief moment the intensifying ache seemed to lighten a bit as she remembered what she came there for.
"Yes. I was wondering if you're short on any ingredients for the shop. I could really use a stroll in the marsh right now, and thought might as well do some pickings." she offered, as they walked into the small alchemy shop. The scent of numerous ingredients and warmth from the stoked fire greeted them into the dimly-lighted room.
The older woman chuckled heartly "Ya' certainly are a nemophilist, aren't ya? But, no. I couldn't ask of you to do that. Go on an.. "
"It's really no trouble! Besides, I need a distraction to keep my mind off the headache." Idgrod interrupted, giving the most convincing look she could.
She knew the shopkeeper was just concerned about her. Always telling her not to be too hard on herself with her studies and all, like a big sister.
The blonde-haired woman studied her expression carefully from behind the counter pondering for a moment. "Fine... Since ya' insist, dear.. A few Orange Dartwings, mayhap?"
"Sure. Anything else?" she chimed, already packing the empty jars from the shelves into a flower basket.
"That'll be all, dear. And ya' need not necessarily find them, okay? Just... enjoy the walk, yes?" The shopkeeper patted on her shoulder as they exited the hut.
"That I shall." She mused. "Would you mind keeping an eye on my brother for me while I'm gone?"
"Ya' worry too much, dear. Of course, I'll watch Joric. Now, go and hurry back before it gets dark." The woman smiled, waving her hands out dismissively and shooing her away.
With that, Idgrod set out for her walk. A knowing smile grazed at her lips. She was fairly certain where she could find those Orange Dartwings.
The Apprentice Stone.
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The horizon was now depleted of orange and red hue as darkness completely overpowered the last ray of sunlight. Ghost-gray mist seeping through the swamp, putting on a hazy ambiance around.
The walk to the Apprentice Stone took longer than Idgrod had anticipated, having to avoid all the wandering mudcrabs. How in Oblivion these inhabitants managed in numbers just over a few weeks was still a wonder, but terrible.
Standing in a foot-deep water, Idgrod focused on the buzzing dragonflies. Her hands readily holding out her last empty jar. Her dress hitched up to her knees as she stood in the shallow water. Her light-brown leather boots keeping her feet dry from the cold water.
"Gotcha"
A grin perking across her lips at her accomplishment, Idgrod waded back out of the water onto the higher ground. She hummed quietly as she organized the jars into her small basket. She felt light-headed. The endless headache seemed to have mercifully vanished.
Afterall, the forest was where Idgrod felt home. Since Frostfall, the beginning of winter, she hadn't visited her oasis of serenity, the only place she felt at ease away from the expectations.
Snap!
She gasped as she quickly turned around towards the source of sound. Her chocolate brown eyes flickered across the gray hazy mist.. only to be met by the beady black eyes of a large brown troll, standing hunched amongst the mist.
"By the eight. Please tell me this is a late-coming of the gift and just a vision.." Idgrod pulled out her steel dagger. Despair washed over her face. The lack of any sword skill or physical strength, and worse, even if she knew how to defend, she wasn't dumb enough to face the troll with nothing but a blunt dagger.
"Vision, or not, I intend to live another day and watch over Joric". Idgrod wasted no time as she turned on her heels and sprinted through the trees, with the hope of outrunning the beast.
She let her feet carry her as many distance as they could away from the predator behind her. Her whole body was on fire. Her inner-self desperately clawing inside her, begging to cling onto any chances of escape. She could feel her heart pounding against her rib-cage. The beat of blood-pulses thundering in her ears.
The wet leaves and mud squished beneath her frantic steps. She kept running, not bothering to look back.
Until a sudden realization dawned on her.
"S'wit!" she cursed herself.
How could she be so stupid! She had been running in the opposite direction of Morthal the entire chase.
No. It's too late turn back. She shook her head and continued her escape. Even if she could, the fear that even the slightest deviation slowing her down and closing the gap between the troll's claws and her throat was far greater.
Guttural roar echoed through the marsh behind her. Clearly, the troll was still on her trail. But Idfrod could feel her legs already giving up on her, her burning lungs screaming for the much needed oxygen, her pace slowing down.
There has to be something! Someone, who could save her!
But who was she kidding? No wise soul would be out dancing in the marsh at dark time like such.
Then came in a blurry view of a silhouette among the mist. A shack. That's it! Just a few more steps. She told herself and mustered up the little energy she had left and sprinted towards it across the water.
Something's wrong. Oh god! Brown eyes widened as they landed on the pool and splashes of blood that painted the shack. Yet her decision stayed unchanged. Whatever lies inside, she shall deal later. Her hands clutched onto the door handle.
To her dismay, the wooden door remained unopened. It was locked. A lump formed in her chest as she felt the last of her hope knocked out of grasp. She forced and willed the door to open with her shoulders.
The sound of water splash, the heavy steps, the deep nasal breathing, from behind signalled her. Idgrod turned around and held out her dagger. Her hands trembling with fear. She felt the mullion of the locked door against her back, like a cornered prey. The troll pounded its chest as though it had won its hunt and bared its fangs.
This was not how she imagined her life would end. She had at least thought she'd live the day to see Joric all grown up, herself leading Morthal to glory.
With a loud chilling roar, the troll charged towards her, claws in mid-air. Brown eyes squeezed shut. Breathing in her last breath, her body awaited the slaughter to land..
"Get down!"
Chocolate orbs snapped open again.
Idgrod stood there in shock and confusion as the troll pounded its fist into the muddy ground in front of her, crying out in pain. The very cause was soon uncovered when the predator turned around with its back to her. An orcish dagger protruding out from the back of its head, half stabbed deep into its skull.
Only then, she became aware of the hooded figure, standing across from her facing the troll.
"Hey! Get away from there!"
Idgrod jumped aside just in time before a blaze of fire erupted and swiveled around the troll.
What in Talo's name...
She couldn't believe the sight before her. The troll writhed in suffer as waves of flames burned its body and peeled off its hair.
Brown eyes trained back onto the hooded figure. A gasp escaped her lips when she saw the flames were being flared out from the figure's hands and onto the troll. A mage?! She was quite certain that the hooded figure wasn't Falion though. Otherwise she would have recognised the voice.
Her thoughts were halted when the emitting flames died down to smolder with smokes. The mage shook its hands and groaned in frustration.
"Not again.. Damn magika!"
The voice was hoarse, as if one hadn't drunken any water since god knows when.
A roar of fury rippled around them as the skinless troll slowly stood up, towering the hooded figure. Idgrod felt fear clogged her throat.
By divines! Is it NOT dead yet?!
The burnt troll lunged foward the mage with its claws. The mage barely dodged the first swing. But then backhanded by the second and was sent flying, until it slammed hard against a nearby tree. The mage groaned in pain as it collapsed onto the ground.
Idgrod realized she was still holding her dagger. This was her chance! Running up to the troll from behind, she thrusted her blunt dagger straight into the nape of the beast. A sickening sound rang as blood spurted out of its throat and its limps went lifeless.
Her feet involuntarily backed away from the corpse. Fatigue already creeping over every inch of her muscles. Her chest heaved breathlessly with heavy pants as Idgrod tried to process what'd just happened.
The mage!
It took a moment for her to spot the mage who seemed unconscious, lying a few feet from her on the ground.
Brown eyes roamed over and studied the figure as she stumbled closer. Black pants, brown leather boots, a simple white shirt, a matching brown belt around its waist.
Brown eyes widened when they noticed the curvy frames of the form before her.
Is that..
Her eyes finally traveled up the cowl that now hung open.
Ebony dark hair pooling beneath. Slender eyebrows. Smooth porcelain fair skin she could almost feel it as soft as velvet. And lastly.. those slightly parted full lips.
It was.. a girl.
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Hope y'all liked it! It's my very first fanfic. Will try better in next chapter. Peace out y'all.