Hi, this story has been plaguing me for a while now and I finally decided to go ahead with it. I have the entire story practically planned out in my head, but I have trouble putting ideas to paper so I ask you be patient with me in terms of updating. Hope you enjoy the story either way.

I do not own the Elder Scrolls franchise. That right belongs to Bethesda. Good going guys!

Chapter 1 - In the Dragon's Shadow

I had waited for what felt like an age. Maybe it was longer? Maybe not. Either way I grew tired both in body and mind and soon lay down against the smooth stone floor, chilled from the coming of winter, to rest. At first I lay eyes open and alert, but soon felt a haziness grip my very soul and was lost to the conscious world. My body curled against the proud draconic statue, wanting to feel closer to the soul trapped within. It had been a month since the end of the crisis and half a lunar cycle since my guardian had entered the strange gate at Niben Bay. I wanted to wait for him. He promised he would return be it in life or on the verge of death. I trusted him to. I had no other choice.

I was but a child after all. Having turned twelve in the passing Last Seed I was considered old enough to find my own way, but most would argue against it. While glad I was technically too old for an orphanage I couldn't help but feel saddened that I was to carry on my life alone. First mother, then grandfather and uncles, friends and neighbours, a pseudo-family, father and finally a second father of sorts.

My mind drifted deeper into the darkening abyss of sleep and the world around me grew ever fainter. It was odd really. Somehow… it didn't feel like the gentle tidings of sleep where one would awaken soon after. I could feel myself slipping deeper, further, falling. And yet, I couldn't… wouldn't panic. Death didn't even cross my mind as it didn't seem an appropriate explanation. I allowed my very being to fall deeper and just as I felt myself teetering on the edge of pure bliss a gentle warmness blanketed my senses. I was filled with a soft heat that one would use to describe the love for a family member. I recognised the presence, but somehow couldn't bring up a name or a face.

My body was wrapped in something large and warm before it was lifted from the cool stone. Weightlessness washed over me for but a moment when I was gently settled down once more. Walls had formed around me and a heavier darkness of a confined space threatened to press against my senses. The warming presence lingered long enough to give a goodbye before confining me completely in the space. I didn't panic. In fact, I relaxed deeper and finally slipped away into the blissful unconsciousness completely.

Like all moments of rest time moves fast. Passing within the blink of an eye. Consciousness returned in slow dregs. I had been in the darkness so long that when the first beams of sunlight stricken my skin I flinched away. My eyes squeezed tighter against the beams, lighting up my eyelids from the outside giving the darkness a red tone. Sound swam back and assaulted my ears like drums, pounding a headache behind my eyes. The sound of heavy stone shifting across even ground echoed with gasping breaths. My body began to twitch impatiently, wishing to move and stretch. I locked my muscles on instinct as the heavy breathing grew closer and the beams of light brighter. And like that the darkness fell away and sound boomed back. My own gasps of shock and pain giving way to whimpers.

"By the Gods!" Warm hands wrapped around my shaking form and I was lifted from the hole. I thrashed weakly against my capturer. Or was it saviour? The heavy cloth that had been wrapped around me was pulled tighter to conserve the warmth. Despite the cool warmth to the air I still shivered. The arms holding me brought me closer to a solid chest and held me there.

Opening my eyes probably wasn't the best idea. Not only did the sun strike a chord with that pounding headache, but everything was bleary; as if I was underwater. I blinked many a time and yet nothing came into focus. The fear of going blinded panicked me and I struggled.

"Shh," the voice of the one who held me sounded from above. It was a man no doubt. "You have been underground for a long time. Your senses will return in due course, Heiress."

Heiress? My brain processed the word sluggishly and memories began to weave together to create a bigger picture. Heiress meant entitled to something important. The face of my father flashed in my mind followed by my grandfather. I felt my heart sink as I remembered.

Voices interrupted my thoughts and the man held me closer. It was almost as if he was afraid. He quickly broke out into a brisk walk carrying me bridle style. Scared and still confused I shifted restlessly and his hold tightened. It wasn't meant to restrict, it felt… warm somehow. As if he was giving me a hug; one shared between friends.

"Just bear with me a little longer Heiress," his voice was barely above a whisper and I strained to hear it. "I'm taking you to my home just outside the city. It's a small cottage hidden in the surrounding woods. It's not safe for you here."

Safe? I was never safe really. Not since grandfather died four years ago. I was hunted. Sorted for. Even after father had passed there was still a danger. It was never explained to me what that danger was. Maybe it was why I ended up in that hole? I felt the man restlessly shift as he walked, light never shining on us for but a moment. He stuck to the shadows; dark corners and alleys. I must have fell asleep again. Funny how despite sleeping one could still wake up as tired as before.

The damp strokes of a wet cloth ran over my forehead. I felt feverish and ill, but my mind was a lot clearer than before. I groaned, wincing as my throat protested the action due to the dry scratchy feel within. A callous hand moved under my head and gently lifted it up. Glass pressed against my lips and I greedily drank the water within until I almost choked.

"Easy," the man from before chided, "I won't have you drowning yourself." The glass was pulled away and my head set down again. Wearily I opened my eyes; still bleary, but I could make out the faded candlelight on a wooden nightstand. My eyes moved to focus on the silhouette hovering over me worryingly. Lightly tanned skin covered in a plain brown tunic, light brown hair cropped just above the ears which were pointed upwards. Mud brown eyes stared back at me, the irises almost taking up the entire eye. A Bosmer or Wood Elf if you couldn't be bothered with the proper name. He looked to be in the prime of his life which meant he was between the ages of thirty to well over three hundred years. Like most Bosmer his face had an elfish point to it; high cheekbones, fragile bone structure and wiry muscles. His bare arms were toned with light muscle indicating lighter weapons like daggers or bows. With my vision clearing further I looked at his open hands and saw the tell-tale marks of a competent bowman. Traditional Bosmer.

The Bosmer saw my analysing gaze and responded with an exasperated sigh. His fingers ran up to stroke through his hair in a tired motion. "Seems time hasn't let you forget Aloynd's teachings."

The name hit me hard and I sat up abruptly scaring the Bosmer back a little. The move probably wasn't wise as my head reared in pain nearly forcing me off the bed I lay in due to the imbalance. The Bosmer shot forward and grabbed me before that could happen.

"Nine help me. I told you to take it easy!" I was gently laid back onto the bed. "I haven't spent the last three days nursing you back to health just so you could fall over and break your neck!"

I had been asleep for three days? Didn't really surprise me. It explained why I felt so sluggish and light headed. Still I needed answers and this Bosmer was my only option. "W-Where am I?" Simple enough question to start off with. My throat was still dry and sore despite my refreshing drink from before.

The Bosmer, who was still going off on a little tirade, paused to look at me carefully. Assessing my reaction and expressions. He sat down on the chair pulled up beside my bed and sighed. "My home. A small cottage just south of the Imperial City. I brought you here three days ago. After I found you and smuggled you out of the city's walls you fell into unconscious and caught a high fever. I've been tending you since."

"Thank you." I meant it. Fevers could turn deadly, fast. If I was still holed away in that dark place I had awoken to I probably wouldn't have lived much longer. I swallowed hard to ready my throat. "You said you found me. Where?"

The Bosmer looked at me sharply. "What is the last thing you remember?"

I thought back into the hazy memories surrounding my odd sleep. "I was waiting for someone at the Temple of the One." Even if he had saved me I didn't trust him. The answer I gave was vague enough to not reveal too much.

The Bosmer nodded. "That is where I found you. A small space lay beneath the dragon statue of Emperor Martin Septim. You were holed away inside wrapped in a thick, blood red cloak." He moved his hand under the bed and pulled out a familiar cloak of sanguine. I reached for it instantly and he handed it over with no reluctance. It was exactly as I remembered it; soft against the skin and thick enough for Cyrodil winters even in the northern city of Bruma. Yet, it was also different; worn with age to which it wasn't the last time I had seen it. The colour had dulled and the material slightly more coarse.

The Bosmer watched my searching hands before saying in a quiet voice. "The person you were waiting for…"

I stiffened. "What about him? He's an old friend of the family."

The Bosmer smirked, as if he knew a secret. "Friend of the family? I guess that's one way to describe him." The smirk grew cocky. "Then again I thought Aloynd meant more to you than that, Aiaenia."

I must have paled rapidly. Yes, he had already mentioned that he knew my guardian and mentor by name, but he also knew mine. My breathing grew panicked and suddenly he was right in front of me. I opened my mouth to scream, but his hand firmly clasped over it. I would have kicked him, but the worry in his eyes made me pause.

"Damn Aiaenia. If I knew you were going to react like that I wouldn't have said anything." He removed his hand and I let out a breath I hadn't known I was holding. He moved back into his chair, slumped really, and held his head in his right hand wearily. He looked at me from under his hand and gave a tired smile. "I know I've grown, but I would have thought you wouldn't forget an old friend."

Old friend? I looked at him, harder now. He did give off a familiar air that I naturally relaxed around and he did seem to know quite a bit about me. I thought back to all the Bosmers I knew, but none matched the description of this typical featured elf. There was one but…

It must have shown on my face because he smiled knowingly and gave a little bow of the head. "Good to see you again Aiaenia."

"Al-Alvethaur!" I gasped. I couldn't believe it. The image of a scrawny sixteen year old Bosmer was all I could conjure up in my memory. Not this well-toned archer in his middle ages.

He nodded his head and smirked again. "Got it in the one. I'm hurt you didn't recognise me to be honest. Though, I guess I have grown a little."

"A little?" I quipped in surprise. "You're a different person! What happened to the scrawny, clumsy Blade recruit that used to scream at the sight of blood?"

He smiled a little at my summary. "I'm hurt Aiaenia. I thought you looked up you looked up to me? Like a brother?"

I snorted. "The big brother I had to look after. I don't know how you managed to convince Baurus to let you into the Blades."

"He had I had a good arm and was a quick study." He defended before growing serious. "To answer your previous question, Aiaenia, I grew up. Surely you can see that."

"It's hard to determine age with elves. And surely it hasn't been that long since I fell asleep?" When he didn't answer I grew worried. "Alvethaur?"

"You have no idea how long it's been since I last saw you Aiaenia." His tone worried me greatly. "Nor have you seen what has happened since you and Aloynd disappeared completely. The Empire was in turmoil and High Chancellor Ocato struggled to hold the Elder Council together. It was a mess and the Blades could do nothing but hopelessly search for you two."

"Alvethaur, how long has it been?"

"It's a new era, Aiaenia. The Septim Empire died with Emperor Martin and so a new era was ushered in. It's the Fourth Era. The twenty-first of Rain's Hand in the two-hundredth and first year. I am now two-hundred and seventeen years old."

I blinked in shock. What else could I have done? "Two hundred…? T-That's absurd Alvethaur! If that much time had truly passed then I would be nothing more than a pile of dust by now. I know Imperials are the longest living humans out there, but we never exceed two centuries! I was already twelve when the crisis happened. I'd well over two-hundred by now."

Alvethaur had the gall to give a gentle smile. "Two hundred and thirteen as of Last Seed. The longest living Imperial to ever grace Nirn without being one of the undead."

"This isn't a joke Alvethaur." I scolded harshly. He frowned and sat back in his chair.

"I'm not joking. You are now two-hundred and twelve years of age and still look the same as you did last era."

I was about to argue back when his words registered in my head. "What?"

He sighed and pulled a mirror from the drawer of the nightstand. "See for yourself." He handed me the mirror and sat back again, observing my reactions.

Confused I looked into the mirror and nearly dropped it in shock. Staring back was a sickly looking twelve year old girl with waist length brown hair waving down by her pale skin. Like all Imperials she was built leaner unlike the stocky Nords or the broad Redguards. Bright blue eyes the colour of a clear sky stared back at her widely, her young face lined with smooth unblemished skin.

Alvethaur gently took the mirror was my frozen grasp and set it down gently. He grasped my shaking hand and held tightly. "I'd guess you went into some sort of magical coma when you were waiting for Aloynd. The Temple of the One read high on magicka following the weeks of your disappearance. It's the only way to explain your condition."

I felt tears fill my eyes. "Everyone I knew."

Alvethaur nodded sadly. "Gone. I'm lucky to be here to be honest. Some much went wrong after you disappeared. High Chancellor couldn't crown you as heir to the Septim Empire less the wrong people went to look for you. The Blades spent countless decades searching for you, but by then it was too late for the Third Era. Then a group of Altmer from Summerset Isles rose to power and began a study conquer of Tamriel starting with my ancestral home, Valenwood. They called themselves the Third Aldmeri Dominion. They eventually called for war and the Empire was forced to fight. They lay siege to the Imperial City and we lost." He clenched his hands in anger. "As we only serve the Dragonborn lineage we abandoned the Empire when the new Era was rushed in."

I couldn't really be surprised at that. The Blades swore their lives to the Dragonborn which all Septim's were descended from apparently. "Where did you go?"

Alvethaur shrugged. "Grandmaster Jauffre called us back to Cloud Ruler Temple and called for every Blade across the provinces to begin the search for either you or a new Dragonborn. When the Aldmeri Dominion stormed Cyrodiil one of their demands was the disbandment of the Blades. When Emperor Tidus Mede II refused they knocked over a cart bearing the heads of every Blades' agent in Valenwood and Summerset Isles." I made a noise of horror, but he wasn't finished. "That's when the Great War – as it's referred to – began. When Tidus Mede II surrendered and the White Gold Concordat formed the Blades were dissolved and the rest of us hunted down. Cloud Ruler Temple was laid siege to for several months before it fell."

I gasped in horror. The faces of each Blade I had ever met flashed through my mind including the younger recruits. "You escaped?"

"Barely," he growled. "As far as the Thalmor are concerned I am dead."

"Thalmor?" I asked at the unfamiliar name.

Alvethaur's scowled. "The name of the group that makes up the Aldmeri Dominion. Appeared in the Summerset Isles a couple of decades after you disappeared. Took Valenwood not seven years later."

I arched my eyebrows incredulously. "You were at war for over a century?"

He shook his head, scowl deepening. "Took them another century and a half to build up the courage and resources to take Cyrodiil. I had rose up the ranks of the Blades by that point. When the war started I was just named Grandmaster of the Blades."

"To be Grandmaster Blade… it would be my greatest dream." I remembered the words a thirteen year old Alvethaur whispered to me in the dead of night. "Congratulations."

Alvethaur gave a small smile before sighing. "It was short lived. The war lasted for four years and the Blades fell the year after. I fear I'm all that's left of the order. It's been thirty years since then. I live in fear of being recognise and killed. Deciding to remain close to the Imperial City was a very risky move on my part, but the Thalmor are less likely to find me."

I nodded. "Jauffre's tactic?"

Alvethaur let out a weak laugh. "Seems that old Breton knew what he was doing." He paused before adding. "He died not long after he ordered the Blades to withdraw from the Empire. Baurus took the title of Grandmaster after that and so on so forth. I acted as a spy for many decades within Cyrodiil, masquerading as a talented hunter."

I picked up his hands and squeezed them. "Finally learnt how to hold a bow properly?"

"Oh ha, ha," he mocked sarcastically. "I became a master archer if you must know."

"Hmm?" I narrowed my eyes. "How long did that take you?"

Alvethaur paused before grinning sheepishly. "A century, but who's counting?" I giggled breathlessly before a yawn took a hold. Alvethaur smiled knowingly and squeezed my hand back comfortingly. "Get some rest. We'll talk more in the morning." With that and one last squeeze he released my hand and stood up. Crossing the small bedroom in which I resided he quietly opened the door and slipped through it.

"Alvethaur?" He paused in the doorway. "Thank you."

In the dim candlelight I saw a fond smile pull at his worn features. "What are friends for Aiaenia? You… you have no idea how glad I am to see you alive. Goodnight."

"Divines bless you." I whispered as he finally closed the door. I stared up at the wooden ceiling of the bedroom, sorting through the information Alvethaur had divulged and what else was left to be told. I felt wetness flow down my cheeks as I mourned the loss of the Blade members I had known. Baurus and Jauffre being the hardest. I was grateful that Alvethaur had lived long enough to see me return from whatever happened to me. I lifted my hand up into the air and clenched it a few times. The limb trembled with weakness, but held firm.

I sighed and allowed it to fall back to my side. Whatever came next I knew I needed to grow strong and fast. If the Thalmor were as bad as Alvethaur said then who knew what they would do if an heir to the Septim Dynasty returned. By rights of birth the Ruby Throne was mine to claim when I came of age. What would the current Empire think? Either way, the world I knew was gone.

"Last time I sleep by your statue father," I joked. Rolling over I blew out the candle submerging the room in complete darkness for even Masser and Secunda were absent from the night sky. My hand moved towards the red cloak and pulled it closer, hugging it tightly. I had no idea how Aloynd's cloak had gotten into my possession as the last I saw of it the man himself was wearing it as he left for Niben Bay. Either way Aloynd would have long passed from Nirn leaving me alone for real.

"I promise to come back, Aiaenia. It's just another Oblivion Gate."

"Stupid," I choked on a sob. "You never returned did you?" The darkness didn't answer and I buried myself into the cloak. "You promised."

Next on Revak Dovah Kulaas...

So much has changed since I was last awake. Aloynd is gone, through an Oblivion Gate opened after the Crisis. Practically everyone I know is dead. My childhood friend Alvethaur is a one of the remaining, one of the last Blades left in Tamriel with the Thalmor hunting him at every turn. Cyrodiil isn't safe for us anymore. The Empire is corrupt with the Thalmor pulling the strings. Where could we go? All the provinces have fallen. Hammefell? They had driven out the Thalmor alongside the Empire. The Elven provinces were out as well as those of the Khajit and Argonians. Orsimer was too far. That left...

Guess we're going to Skyrim. The origin of the Septim Line. Talos guide me.

Hope you liked it. This is my first attempt at first person as I prefer to write as a narrator. Please review and be sure to ask me any questions regarding the story you may have. I'll try to answer them without giving away too much.

I should point out now the title 'Revak Dovah Kulaas' is Dovahzuul (Dragon Language) for 'Sacred Dragon Princess' translated by thuum . org . I will be using this website as well as TES Wiki pages for research into the lore behind Tamriel. I will tweak the history to fit my story, but either way I hope you enjoy.