The sun's light snuck in through the treetops, its golden rays touching the forest floor. An Elk lowered its head as birds chirped in the trees above, drinking from the stream of running water that was a small river starting from a hill to the north. The water was clear, cold and undoubtedly refreshing. The Elk continued to take gulps of the fresh water as a gentle wind brushed against it. A small squirrel scampered across the ground before climbing up a tree behind the Elk. The Elk looked up, drifting its head from left to right. Nothing. Everything was serene. The Elk lowered its head once more and returned to drinking from the stream. A single iron arrow was pulled from a leather quiver, this arrow put up against a hunting bow and pulled back with the string from both ends of the bow as the unseen archer took aim: the arrow ready to be fired at the blissfully unaware Elk. The archer steadied their aim, narrowing their eyes as they perched upon a rock to the south. The Elk was reflected in the hazel eyes of the creature's fated killer. The birds continued to chirp, the Elk continued to drink and the wind continued to blow. This is the serenity of nature... but in nature, there is always predator and prey. The iron arrow flew forward, launched from the hunting bow on the blink of an eye. The Elk was never even given the chance to yell out as the arrow pierced into the side of the neck. Death was instant. The Elk fell onto its left side with a small thud. The birds stopped chirping. The archer stood up from their crouched position: shoulder-length red hair flowing in the gentle breeze as they kept their hunting bow at their side, right foot on the edge of the rock-face. The huntress jumped down from the vantage point, landing safely on the forest floor just a few feet below. The dying leaves crumbled underneath their ancient nord boots. The Nord woman glanced to her left and right before walking over to her meal for the coming night: venison was always nice.
The warm fires in the middle of the huntress' small camp burned gently, cooking some of the venison the huntress had taken earlier that day. It was night now, an endless void of distant stars haven taken the sky from the blue of day and the sun: the two moons Secunda and Masser in the sun's place. A makeshift bed of a small assortment of different animal hides rested on the ground behind the huntress. Aela took a swig of her nord mead as the little camp fire burned on into the night, staring off into the darkness and kept from its cold by the twisting and crackling flames as she sat cross-legged at the camp fire. Not that cold bothered a Nord. Aela placed the bottle down to her right side and took out her Skyforge steel dagger from its scabbard: cutting off a piece of the venison in front of her as it hung above the fire. She placed the piece onto a small plate and put her dagger back into its scabbard. Aela picked up the small plate, followed by picking up the chunk of meat in her right hand. She sunk her teeth into the venison, ripping off a piece and chewing on it whilst gazing up to the stars. Tomorrow she would make her journey back to Skyrim, the escaped criminal she had been hunting had been thoroughly dealt with. He thought it would be a good idea to resist capture: only half of the bounty was going to be awarded to Aela. Not that it bothered her, it was a small time assignment anyway. But the journey back to Whiterun once she got back to Skyrim would not be so easy... fate had something else in mind.
Darkness. The sound of a wooden cart's wheels rolling along the ground and the hooves of a horse reached Aela's ears. The darkness began to fade, her vision was starting to return. Aela could make out the back of an Imperial as he sat at the front of the cart, commanding the horse that pulled it. A blonde Nord man with a small beard sat across from her. He was clothed in Stormcloak attire. His hands were binded. Aela shuck her head, casting off her dreariness. Her hands were also in binds. Her weapons were gone. What had happened? Where was she? The blonde Nord turned to face her.
"Hey, you. You're finally awake. You were trying to cross the border, right? Walked right into that Imperial ambush, same as us, and that thief over there." He spoke to Aela, nodding to the brown haired Nord man in rags to his left. Aela didn't get a chance to respond.
"Damn you Stormcloaks. Skyrim was fine until you came along. Empire was nice and lazy. If they hadn't been looking for you, I could've stolen that horse and been halfway to Hammerfell." The horse thief spoke up. He turned to Aela. "You there... You and me, we shouldn't be here. It's these Stormcloaks the Empire wants."
"We're all brothers and sisters in binds now, thief." The blonde Nord responded.
"For better or worse..." Aela muttered. The blonde Nord smiled briefly.
"Shut up back there!" The Imperial driving the cart commanded. Aela chose to ignore the Imperial, she already had a plan to escape once they got to wherever they were going: it was very likely that Imperial would die in the process.
"And what's wrong with him, huh?" The horse thief nodded to the finely dressed Nord man across from him: his mouth gagged. Aela recognised him instantly.
"Watch your tongue. You're speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King." The blonde Nord cut in.
"Ulfric? The Jarl of Windhelm? You're the leader of the rebellion. But if they've captured you... Oh gods, where are they taking us?" The horse thief began to freak out as the realisation struck him.
"I don't know where we're going, but Sovngarde awaits." The blonde Nord admitted solemnly. He had accepted his fate.
"No, this can't be happening. This isn't happening." The horse thief was losing it already. Aela frowned.
"Face fate with courage and honor, like a true Nord." She sternly interjected. The horse thief gulped.
"Easy for you to say, you look like a warrior." He snapped back.
"Hey, what village are you from, horse thief?" The blonde Nord inquired. The horse thief turned back to him.
"Why do you care?"
"A Nord's last thoughts should be of home." He replied.
"Rorikstead. I'm... I'm from Rorikstead." The horse thief finally answered him.
"General Tullius, sir! The headsman is waiting!" An Imperial called out. They were entering Helgen.
"Good. Let's get this over with." Tullius replied from atop the town wall.
"Shor, Mara, Dibella, Kynareth, Akatosh. Divines, please help me." The horse thief recited as they entered the town. The blonde Nord turned to Aela.
"Look at him, General Tullius, the Military Governor. And it looks like the Thalmor are with him. Damn elves. I bet they had something to do with this." He paused for a moment. "This is Helgen. I used to be sweet on a girl from here. Wonder if Vilod is still making that mead with juniper berries mixed in. Funny, when I was a boy, Imperial walls and towers used to make me feel so safe." The blonde Nord continued.
"How times change..." Aela nodded. He nodded back.
"Who are they, daddy? Where are they going?"
"You need to go inside, little cub."
"Why? I want to watch the soldiers."
"Inside the house. Now." This conversation between father and son reached Aela's ears as the cart she was in past by a few houses.
"Yes, papa." The child obeyed.
"Get these prisoners out of the carts. Move it!" A female Imperial Captain ordered from the sidelines.
"Why are we stopping?" The horse thief frantically asked.
"Why do you think? End of the line." The blonde Nord answered. The cart came to a halt. "Let's go. Shouldn't keep the gods waiting for us." He muttered. Aela; the blonde Nord, the horse thief and Ulfric all stood up. Ulfric was at the front, the blonde Nord at the back. One by one they got off the cart.
"No! Wait! We're not rebels!" The horse thief exclaimed in vain.
"Face your death with some courage, thief." The blonde Nord chastised him. Took the words right out of Aela's mouth.
"There's always a coward." She sighed.
"You've got to tell them! We weren't with you! This is a mistake!" The horse thief continued to exclaim.
"Step towards the block when we call your name. One at a time." The Imperial Captain commanded, standing before the group with her arms folded.
"Empire loves their damn lists." The blonde Nord grumbled. Aela scoffed.
"Ulfric Stormcloak. Jarl of Windhelm." Hadvar, a brown haired Imperial soldier standing beside the Captain called out, looking up from the notebook in hand.
"It has been an honor, Jarl Ulfric!" The blonde Nord called out. Ulfric walked off to the execution area: ready for the chopping block.
"Ralof of Riverwood." The blonde Nord walked off to join his comrades and Ulfric. "Lokir of Rorikstead." Hadvar continued to read out. The horse thief stepped forward.
"No, I'm not a rebel. You can't do this!" He pleaded for his life. He made a run for it.
"Halt!" The Captain yelled as Lokir ran past her. He did not.
"You're not going to kill me!" Lokir screamed as he ran. Aela shuck her head in disappointment.
"Idiot..." She growled under her breath. He would have been saved if he stayed by her side.
"Archers!" The Captain called out. Six Imperials readied their bow and arrows. Each one took a shot. Each one hit their mark. As the arrows pierced through Lokir's skin, everywhere from his spine to his legs, blood burst out in small amounts from the wounds: he fell down to his knees. Blood started to drip from his lip. His eyes closed. Thud! He fell face first onto the cobblestone floor. The Captain turned back around. "Anyone else feel like running?"
"Wait. You there. Step forward. Who are you?" Hadvar turned to Aela. She complied, taking a step forward.
"Aela. Aela the Huntress."
"You picked a bad time to come home to Skyrim, kinsman." Hadvar sighed. He looked over to the Captain. "Captain. What should we do? She's not on the list."
"Forget the list. She goes to the block." The Captain retorted. Aela narrowed her eyes. She'd be one of the first to die.
"By your orders, Captain. I'm sorry, at least you'll die here: in your homeland. Follow the Captain, prisoner." Hadvar was hesitant to give the command, but he had no choice. Aela followed the Imperial Captain to the execution area. She found herself standing amongst the Stormcloaks awaiting there death. She had a clear view of the executioner and the chopping block. Ulfric stood before General Tullius.
"Ulfric Stormcloak. Some here in Helgen call you a hero. But a hero doesn't use a power like The Voice to murder his king and usurp his throne." Tullius 'greeted' Ulfric. Nothing but muffled grunts in response from the Jarl. "You started this war, plunged Skyrim into chaos, and now the Empire is going to put you down, and restore the peace." The General continued.
"The theatrics..." Aela sighed, muttering under her breath and rolling her eyes. Suddenly a distant thunder sounded out... a roar of some kind. Everybody looked around in confusion.
"What was that?" Hadvar asked, looking to the skies.
"It's nothing. Carry on." Tullius looked over his shoulder and replied.
"Yes, General Tullius."The Captain nodded. "Give them their last rites." She turned to a Priestess of Arkay. The Priestess nodded and began her speech, raising her arms up into the air.
"As we commend your souls to Aetherius, blessings of the Eight Divines upon you, for you are the salt and earth of Nirn, our beloved..." She was suddenly interrupted.
"For the love of Talos, shut up and let's get this over with." A Stormcloak soldier stepped forward.
"As you wish." The Priestess grumbled.
"Come on, I haven't got all morning." The Stormcloak kneeled down and put his head to the chopping block. The executioner readied his axe. "My ancestors are smiling at me, Imperials. Can you say the same?" Death was swift. With one swing from the axe the Stormcloak's head was cut clean off, tumbling into a basket as blood gushed out from the corpse's neck. The Captain kicked the body aside afterwards.
"You Imperial bastards!" Another Stormcloak called out.
"Justice!"
"Death to the Stormcloaks!" The townspeople cheered.
"As fearless in death as he was in life." Ralof muttered, standing to the right of Aela. Aela nodded.
"A true Nord." She sympathised.
"Next! The Nord in the rags!" The Captain pointed to Aela, disrespectful towards her family armor. The time had come. Aela looked to Ralof one last time.
"Don't worry... I've got a trick up my sleeve..." She muttered.
"Huh?" Ralof raised a brow. The pupils in Aela's eyes flashed orange for a moment before returning to their natural hazel color. He had no idea what she was planning but nodded anyways. A small smirk grew on Aela's face for a second. Another distant roar sounded out.
"There it is again. Did you hear that?" Hadvar muttered.
"I said, next prisoner!" The Captain was unfazed by the sound.
"To the block, prisoner. Nice and easy." Hadvar looked back to Aela. She turned back to the Imperial Captain, frowning, and walked up to the chopping block. Aela kneeled down and put her head to the block. The executioner readied his bloodied axe. Aela's eyes turned orange once more. A third roar from the skies. Aela saw some kind of winged monstrosity flying towards the town, appearing from the side of a mountain.
"What in Oblivion is that?" Tullius exclaimed, his eyes widening at the sight.
"What the..?" Aela cut herself off.
"Sentries! What do you see?" The Captain urgently asked.
"It's in the clouds!"
"Dragon!" The black, horned monstrosity landed upon the tower in front of Aela, knocking the executioner off balance. Aela's eyes widened in shock, their color returning to hazel yet again. The beast let loose a mighty roar and the skies turned dark, the clouds began to swirl and small fiery meteors began to rain down upon Helgen. Aela rolled off the chopping block as a meteor crashed down where she once laid: the shockwave from the impact knocking her away and making her tumble along the cobblestone ground.
"Don't just stand there! Kill that thing! Guards, get the townspeople to safety!" General Tullius ordered his soldiers.
"Urrgh..." Aela groaned as she pushed herself up, her vision slightly blurred as she stumbled to her feet. "That wasn't part of the plan." Aela remarked in a deadpan tone.
"Hey, kinsmen. Get up! Come on, the gods won't give us another chance!" Ralof appeared by Aela's side, left hand on her right shoulder armor. He ran off to a watchtower, beckoning Aela to follow. "This way! Come on!"
"Good idea..." Aela ran after him, following him into the tower as death rained from above. As Aela ran into the tower, Ralof quickly slammed the wooden door shut behind her. Ulfric a few Stormcloaks were already inside. Some of the Stormcloaks were injured, bleeding. Everybody but Aela was unbound, Ulfric was no longer gagged. Ralof walked past Aela, to Ulfric.
"Jarl Ulfric! What is that thing? Could the legends be true?" He spoke quickly, slightly out of breath.
"Legends don't burn down villages." Ulfric replied. Another roar from the winged terror as the chaos raged on outside. "We need to move. Now!"
"Up through the tower, let's go!" Ralof notioned to the spiral staircase. Ralof ran off up the stairs, Aela following close behind. "This way, friend." The two reached the 3rd floor. A Stormcloak was trying to move some rubble on the next set of stairs when they got there.
"We just need to move some of these rocks to clear the way!" The Dragon smashed his head through the wall, Ralof quickly stepping back. His fellow Stormcloak was not so lucky... one piece of rubble had landed on his legs: crushing his bones. He was screaming in pain as the Dragon reared his head back.
"No!" Ralof reached out, Aela pushed him back with both hands, narrowly saving Ralof's life as the beast let loose a torrent of fire.
"Yol... Toor... Shul!" The Dragon roasted the crippled Stormcloak alive, burning his skin and giving him a very painful death. The Dragon suddenly flew off, going to terrorise the rest of Helgen.
"By the gods..." Ralof gulped.
"You couldn't of saved him..." Aela reminded him. Ralof nodded solemnly. He and Aela rushed to the hole in the wall, looking out to see Helgen in ruins.
"See the inn on the other side? Jump through the roof and keep going!" Ralof pointed to a large building with a smashed open rooftop. Aela nodded, looking at where Ralof was pointing. "Go! We'll follow when we can!" Ralof headed back down the stairs. Aela took a deep breath and nodded to herself.
"Maximum effort..." She muttered. She jumped for it, leaping from the tower to the 2nd floor of the inn as fires raged below. Bumph! Aela landed in the inn, rolling along the floor before pushing herself back up. She rushed forward as the Dragon flew overhead, jumping down to the ground floor through a hole in the floor. Hadvar's voice reached her as she ran out into the streets.
"Haming, you need to get over here. Now!" He was talking to a boy from behind cover, the boy with his injured father. Reluctantly, the boy did as he told and ran to Hadvar's side behind cover. The dragon landed down in front of the boy's father. "Torolf! Gods... everyone get back!" Hadvar exclaimed. Aela looked to the boy.
"Close your eyes." She ordered, the boy nodded and did as she said.
"Yol... Toor... Shul!" The Dragon roasted the injured man alive, killing him almost instantly.
"Still alive, prisoner? Keep close to me if you want to stay that way." Hadvar turned to Aela as the beast took to the skies again. "Gunnar, take care of the boy. I have to find General Tullius and join their defense." Hadvar turned to the man behind him.
"Gods guide you, Hadvar." Gunnar nodded. Hadvar turned and ran, Aela alongside him.
"I can handle myself." Aela remarked.
"Well, I suppose I should be thankful you're still in binds..." Hadvar replied.
"Humph." Aela's only response. They ran into an alleyway. The dragon landed on the wall to their left, ready to burn the Imperial soldier in front of the two.
"Stay close to the wall!" Hadvar advised.
"Yol... Toor... Shul!" The dragon unleashed fiery death upon the soldier, burning him alive, before taking to the skies again.
"I thought I'd just run out into the flames." Aela turned to Hadvar, and remarked in a deadpan tone once more. Hadvar rolled his eyes. He ran forward. Aela rolled hers before running after him. Running through a burned down house, they found themselves out in the streets yet again. General Tullius was there.
"Hadvar! Into the keep, soldier, we're leaving!" General Tullius turned to Hadvar and Aela.
"It's you and me, prisoner. Stay close!" Hadvar notioned Aela to follow him. They took a left and ran through the streets, under an archway and into the keep grounds. All the while Imperial archers were taking hopeless shots at the Dragon as it flew overhead. Hadvar and Aela skidded to a halt. "Ralof! You damned traitor. Out of my way!" Ralof had run out before them, iron axe in hand.
"We're escaping, Hadvar. You're not stopping us this time." Ralof retorted. In the background the Dragon picked up an Imperial archer in the talons of his feet and took him up into the air before throwing him away... cue the wilhelm scream as he fell. Aela's eyes widened as she witnessed this.
"Fine. I hope that dragon takes you all to Sovngarde." Hadvar ran past Ralof.
"You! Come on, into the keep!" Ralof beckoned Aela to follow him once again.
"Good to see you made it." She nodded and ran after him as he ran for the keep entrance.
"Hin sil fen nahkip bahloki." The dragon roared out as Aela and Ralof rushed into the keep, Ralof slamming the doors shut behind them.