Chapter 1: Welcome to Skyrim
"Wood elf! Eyes up!" The Imperial barked. Cail lifted his gaze to the woman. A cold glare shot through her helmet to meet him. Shiny, embelished armor told him that she was a captain, his jury. Back home, no one would have dared speak to him that way, not even a military officer. Fear is a powerful thing. The Nord next to her looked at him with pity.
"Not many Bosmer would choose to come to Skyrim alone," The man said, looking down at the list in his hands.
"I didn't," Cail growled, voice hoarse and gravely. Tugging at the bindings around his wrists, he looked up to the sky. It was clear, sparse clouds painted onto vibrant blue. The sun shone brightly with golden rays piercing down. Birds chirped faintly and townspeople watching the macabre sight of a headsman and prisoners chatted amongst themselves.
"She loved...no, loves days like these," He thought to himself, pulling more at the leather straps, causing them to cut and rub into his skin. A vision of tall autum trees and a smile sweet enough to melt his heart danced through his mind as he closed his eyes.
"What should we do captain? He's not on the list," the man said. She laughed.
"Forget the list. He goes to the block," She snarled, grabbing Cail's arm and shoving him forward. He stumbled, saving himself from a fall with one knee scraping the ground. He bit his lip, anger welling up. Standing back up straight, he could feel his pride being ripped down.
"First, the Wood Elf!" She shouted. The stormcloak soldiers that had gotten him into this situation threw him sympathetic looks.
"Sithis take you," He said venomously. The man he had been sitting next to, Ralof, he thought, looked taken aback. Not that Cail cared. Their conflict was about to end him. All of the sudden, a faint boom rode in the wind.
"What was that?" The list-man asked in a worried voice. The captain rolled her eyes and ignored him.
"Move!" She shouted, shoving him again, this time, in the direction if the bloody execution block. A bloodstained basket sat next to it, the fast approaching resting place of his head. He clenched his fists, trying as hard as he could to break the thick bindings as he stood before it.
"Lay another hand on me and-" He started, cut short when a heavy metal boot slammed into his back. He crashed to the ground, collar bone colliding with the jagged stone. Stinging pain from instant abrasions cut into him, along with a resonating ache.
"Shut it, prisoner," She scoffed. He leaned forward, resting his neck in the curve of the block. A dead stench rose up from the basket, so he turned his head, looking up at the watch tower and the sky. He tried to think of anything else but his current predicament, but everything just brought bitterness to his heart. He glanced at the headsman, settling on the thought of the Daedra.
"Which one will have me, I wonder?" He thought. The strange sound boomed again, this time louder and more animal sounding. Cail looked to the sky again, curious. His eyes widened when he saw the monstrosity flying towards them. No one else seemed to notice, for the masked executioner started to raise his axe. The sound tore through the air again, a hair raising roar that seemed like it could break bone with just its vibrations.
"What in oblivion is that?!" Someone screamed. The gigantic fury of black scales and thorned wings landed, its red eyes like flaming coals. It opened its jaws and roared foreign words. The scream rippled through the air, pushing all of the soldiers, including the headsman, to the ground. The words radiated in his bones, strange power warming his body. His vision went blurry from the force of whatever it was, but he still saw all people around him all draw their weapons. Even his fellow prisoners freed themselves from their bonds and ran for cover.
"Dragon," Cail growled under his breath. He pushed himself away from the block, standing back up on his feet. Dizziness almost overcame him, but he managed to stay upright. Guards and soldiers ran about everywhere, shooting arrows and spells alike at the terror flying above them. Regaining his balance and vision, Cail ran, hands still bound and crashing into anyone in his way to the far tower. Ralof, the man he'd just damned to the void stood at the door, about to slam it.
"Come on, man!" He shouted. Cail blundered in, running straight into the finely clad man that he assumed was Ulfric Stormcloak. The disdain in the man's eyes was enough to make Cail scoff.
"Out of my way!" Cail roared, pushing the Jarl. He had no respect for someone that assumed they already had it. He flew up the rounded staircase, stopping when he heard the cracking if rock. He jumped out of the way just in time to not be burned to a crisp by the dragon fire boiling the air itself through a hole in the wall. The dragon screeched before it pulled itself away, gliding over to another group of people. Without hesitation, Cail jumped out of the new opening, landing in the burning ruins of a house. Ducking out one of the broken windows, he ran along the outer wall of the town. Screams and roars were all he could hear, but he soon found the charred corpse of a soldier. He kneeled down, snatching the dagger sheathed on the man's belt and twisted it in his hands. The sharp blade sliced through the thick leather, freeing his sore wrists.
"Thank you, dead man," He muttered, picking up the man's bow and quiver. Slinging it over his shoulder and keeping a tight grip on the dagger, he made a mad dash for the nearest opening in the wall. Right as he reached it, a dark colored horse reared up out if nowhere and almost crashed into him. He dodged its large body, swinging around to grab the reins.
"Easy there, calm down!" He said to it, reaching up to stroke its nose. It fell back down to all fours, looking at him with fearful eyes. He patted its shoulder, glancing around too see if anyone noticed him. One look at the scene of death told him no. He pulled himself into the horse's saddle and with quick tug of the reins and a nudge with his foot, they charged out the broken gate.
"Sithis take you all!" He shouted as they began to race away from the burning village. He had no idea where he was going, anywhere but there was good enough for him. The trees flew past him, a constant barrage of greens and browns, adding a multitude of farmiler color to this new land. The sounds of fighting soon faded, replaced the gentle sounds of hoofbeats and wind. The heavy-set horse began to tire from the constant gallop, its sides heaving and sweaty. Cail gently pulled to reins, relaxing back in the saddle. The beast slowed down, until it rested into a comfortable walk. They were far enough away that they didn't need to run anymore, at least for now. Cail glanced around, hearing the hum and rush of water nearby. Turning the horse, he soon spotted it, at the bottom of the hill they walked down.
"Towns lie on the water in this hold," He thought to himself. If he could get to Whiterun, he'd be able to start getting his bearings. Trotting down the incline, they came to a dirt road, worn and winding, following the river. He pulled the horse to a stop, gazing out at the water. It was crisp and clear, fish jumping in and out of it. Sharp rocks stood all along its sides, some hidden by thick trees and brush, some jutting out into the road.
"Almost reminds me of home," He thought as he tore himself away, continuing down the path. They walked and walked, stopping only for a few chance encounters with wolves or saber cats until night began to fall. He thanked the divines that no bandits had found him, for he didn't have the energy for a real fight.
"Time for a good rest," He mumbled to the tired horse when he spotted an abandoned campfire. He jumped off, sore legs almost buckling when he hit the ground. The horse followed him as he started walking, probably hoping he had food. He looked around to make sure no one lurked in the shadows before crouching in front if the pit. Putting a hand down to the cold ash, he let a burst of flame out from his hand that ignited to already charred branches. A small fire crackled and spat its way to life, lighting the area sparsely. Cail sighed and turned to the large horse. It's long mane was tangled, fur coated with sweat and blood. He wondered if he looked similar.
"Alright boy, lets get that stuff off of you," He stated, tugging the throat latch if the horse's bridle down. He pulled the head band and reins off its head, letting the bit fall out if its mouth. Dropping the thing to the ground, he stepped over to the heavy saddle, undoing the girth and letting the whole thing slide off the horse's back. It shook it entire body like a dog, neighing happily. Cail patted the horse's shoulder. As the beast lowered its head to eat some grass, he stepped away, sitting down on the forest floor. The scent of dirt and dead leaves was comforting, almost enough to lull him to sleep. He knew, however, that sleep wouldn't come to him. Not until he knew she was safe.
"Cail!" Her scream still echoed through him. A flurry of honey colored hair and amber eyes to match his own flooded in his thoughts. The fear that had poisoned them, he couldn't get away from. Her face frozen in horror had been the last thing he'd seen before waking up on that wagon with the other prisoners. That's what would rob him of sleep and would continue to do so until he knew. Until he knew his little sister was safe.