A/N: This is a story I have been writing for a while,, so this will be the first story I will post. For those who have already read this chapter, I have made some corrections. The next chapter will be posted most likely today or tomorrow. Constructive feedback is appreciated. Happy new year!
The Fight for Skyrim
Chapter 1
"Sir, look over there!"
"What is it, soldier?"
"There's a young woman unconscious on the ground. I think she was shot with arrows. I don't know what kind."
"Oh my gods, she's barely alive."
"Can you do anything for her?"
"It won't be easy, but I'll see what I can do. However, we have to get her to safety. I'll take her to my house. The rest of you keep fighting. We cannot lose Whiterun!"
"Yes, Sir!"
"I'm probably going to regret saving a High Elf, especially if she's with the Thalmor, but I have to. There's just something about her."
Thinking back, my life has been rather typical. I had a simple life with a single father who trained me to fight as soon as I could. My life changed the day he arrived and indirectly saved my life. Alduin, the eater of worlds, forestalled my execution. Little did I know at the time that his motives were greater than just destruction; he wanted to devour all of the world and defeat me, the dovahkiin. I had only come across this information through a long process that started when I spoke to Jarl Bulgaruuf for the first time in Dragonsreach, the highest point in Whiterun, where I now reside. I found out that I was the dovahkiin or dragonborn when I killed a dragon that had destroyed the western watchtower and absorbed its soul thereafter. I could then use a thu'um, or shout, like the dragons and ancient Nords could. That shout was called Unrelenting Force, but I only knew the first word of this shout, fus (force). After making the long and strenuous journey to High Rothgar, I learned more about my status as dragonborn and the "way of the voice" from the Graybeards, a group of four old Nords who lived in High Rothgar in solitude. Only one of them spoke, however. I think everyone else took a vow of silence or something. That is the only reason I can give for their silence.
After learning the other two words of Unrelenting Force and learning the first word of a new shout, Whirlwind Sprint, Wu'ul (wind), I went to find out more about the dragon resurrection. In order to do so, however, I had to go to a party hosted by the Thalmor embassador, Ellenwen. It turned out that although the Thalmar were with the Empire, they didn't care which side won the civil war as long as they profited from it. They too had also been investigating the return of dragons. I greatly disliked the Thalmor after that point. Not only did they use magic, which I find a show of cowardice, they were, put simply, a group of aristocrats who only wanted to get power no matter the cost. They even resulted to interrogation—harsh interrogation at that—to get information. The only magic school I respect is restoration magic. That school is actually used to help people while the other four, conjuration, destruction, alteration, and illusion, are used to hurt people in some way. I use the most basic restoration spells to heal myself during battle when I have no or minimal potions.
After getting involved with a band of thieves in a run down hideout in a terrible town filled with the likes of them, going into a temple where I found the location of Alduin, and learning various shouts that helped me on my journey. I ended up accomplishing my task in Sovngarde, the afterlife as far as all Nords are concerned.
With Alduin defeated, I could finally live the rest of my life in peace. With the gold I had left after my adventure, I bought Breezehome, a house in Whiterun right near the entrance. Not wanting to just stay in one place for too long, I continued to explore Skyrim. I found many treasures and made new allies on my adventures. So far, my greatest treasure is the Ogma Infinium, a book of infinite knowledge created by the Daedra, a group of demon overlords. Everywhere I go, I have my Dragonblade, the first Daedric weapon I ever crafted. It has a fire and fatigue enchantment, similar to my ebony sword, but much stronger.
As I probably alluded to before, I am an adventurer. I always liked the thought of discovering new places, meeting new people, and the like. I never, however,, thought of falling in love. I seemed to never have time for that kind of thing.
"You've got to settle down and find someone, Radis," Faendel, one of my friends had said one day after the end of the dragon crisis. We were at the Sleeping Giant Inn having a few drinks and talking about the war.
"You can't be alone forever."
"What if I'm just not ready?" I asked. "I just don't think I'm ready to settle down yet. I'll find someone when I'm ready." Faendal turned to me with a look that said that he wasn't buying it.
"Your twenty-four for Mara's sake!" he exclaimed. "I bet any woman would want to be the wife of the dragon born. You've been doing this for the past two years. I bet you've even rejected women who were interested in because of your fear of commitment." There was a completely different reason why I wasn't ready; it had nothing to do with fear of commitment.
I took a sip of my wine and said in a raised tone, "It's not fear of commitment, Faendal!" Faendal flinched at my outburst, but he held his ground
"Then what is your reason?" he returned. The other patrons stopped to look at us and Sven stopped singing.
"Be careful, Faendal," one of them warned, "He can kill you with a single word."
"That is none of your concern," I said ignoring the stares I was getting. I had my hand on Dragonblade in case he provoked me any further. He must have seen this and simply got up and headed for the door.
"I didn't know you were so sensitive when it came to love," he said opening the door. When he left, I felt a little regretful of what had transpired.
I sat at my home in Whiterun thinking about love. It was a cold night, so many of the citizens were in there homes and the shops were closed. Almost everyone around was either in love, looking for love, or married with children. Alvar, the Jarl, Camilla, among others. At least they know who their mother is.
You see, my father never really talked about my mother. Whenever I asked about her, he had said that she died giving birth to me. I had soon realized that what he said wasn't true. That or he just didn't love her. He didn't even talk about her to me. He would only talk about how I should never love an Altmer.
"They will only use you and then leave you like a harlot to go do the same to another hapless soul," he said. I think I understand what he meant by that now, but when I was young it was like a riddle created by the ancient dwarves.
I associated the Altmer with the High Elves, which I dreaded already. The rest was obvious; I shouldn't fall in love with a High Elven woman. That still didn't explain my mother. Was she a High Elf? Did she mistreat my father? Who was she, anyway, and was she dead or still alive? All of these questions raced through my head at once.
A knock at my door interrupted me from my musings. I went downstairs to answer it and was greeted by a frantic courier.
"Sir Radis," he said in a frantic voice, "I have an urgent letter from Solitude. I think it regards General Malikar."
"What happened?" I asked the courier. I suddenly became anxious and a bit afraid of what he would say.
"I don't know what it exactly says, but it's not good," the courier said. "I suggested you read it yourself." I took the letter from him and closed the door. I sat in a chair in front of the lit fireplace and opened the letter.
Dear Radis,
It pains me to say this, but your father General Malikar was assassinated early this morning. We don't know the identity of the assassin, but we assume they are working for the Stormcloaks. He was murdered outside of the Solitude gates on his way back from a conference in Markarth. It should be night when you get this. I expect to be on my doorstep soon after you receive this letter. I'm sorry, Radis. The Empire has lost a great soldier and leader, you have lost the last of your family, and I have lost my best friend.
sincerely,
General Tolius
I was furious. I never thought that it would happen so fast. I had no clue why anyone would want my father killed unless they were part of the Stormcloaks. Damn them to Sovngarde. I went upstairs and put the letter in one of the end table drawers. I was going to find out exactly what happened and avenge my father. I had decided, however, that it would be best if I held it off until the next morning. With plans to go to Solitude in the morning, I went to sleep.
