A/N: Alright, I do not own Elder Scrolls universe, however I do own Hanna. I do not plan on continuing it unless I get inspired again like I did for this story.
People say that when you die you hallucinate grand and fantastic things. It's similar to those who claim to have their life flash before their eyes, only far more grandiose. As Hanna laid her head down upon the chopping block and watched a midnight black dragon perch itself upon Helgan's tower, she was certain that she was either dead or dying.
A roar pierced her ears and a large gust of wind knocked her off the block. The Breton woman wheezed as the air was forced out of her lungs. The axe had probably fallen, her head rolling on the ground by now. That would explain her lack of breath. She opened her eyes and looked around her vision. The town was on fire, an almost comforting thought all things considered. She heard a voice call out for her and she ran toward it. Her vision was blurry and she hadn't the faintest idea of who she was running to but she had nothing to fear. She was already dead.
Hanna ran into a tower and a man shut the door behind her. There were a few men there, all talking nonsense about dragons and a rebellion. She didn't care. She just looked around her vision in awe. She had never really believed that she had an imagination until this moment.
She threw caution to the wind. Hanna jumped from a tower, ran through fire, hid from a dragon, and fought with a bear before she finally escaped the burning ruin once known as Helgan. Her actions as she ran through the underground caverns were far more reckless than she would have normally accepted. Instead of staying back and taking out her enemies with magic, she charged into battle with a Warhammer, a weapon she had never used but had always wanted to.
As she exited the cave, she looked at her companion. He was an Imperial solider whose name she had already forgotten. He offered her a place to stay in a town called Riverwood and Hanna thought hard about his offer. It would be safer to stick together, but why should she try to be safe? For all she knew she was already dead in the middle of Helgan square.
"My uncle will be able to help us," he explained. "Riverwood needs to be warned of the dragon anyw-"
"I decline your offer."
The man turned to look at the small rag clad blonde. "Are you certain? I could use your help."
"I'm already dead," she shrugged, ignoring the shocked look from the Imperial solider. "I have a limited amount of time before I completely bleed out and my vision stops. I don't want to waste my time with something that doesn't matter."
He looked at her in awe as she waved him away and continued down the dirt path. "You're already… what?" he trotted after her.
"Listen," Hanna turned toward him and poked his chest to enunciate her words. "You're not real. I died on that block in Helgan and this is my minds final adventure before I'm sent to Oblivion. So unless you can offer me something interesting, bugger off." She turned back to the path.
The man looked confused. "But you did not die. You were not beheaded."
He could hear amusement in her voice. "That's what someone in my imagination would say. I wouldn't want to break the immersion." She continued to walk hazardously along the path. Her normally silent footsteps crashed upon every leaf and twig she could find. She loved the sound of crunching leafs but often in her life she was so concerned with the noise that she never indulged her love for the sound.
The Imperial solider was about to leave the deranged woman when he heard a shuffle a short distance away. At first, he was not sure if he had heard it since the Breton was being so loud but his fears became reality as a wolf leapt from the woods and landed on top of the woman. He heard her cry out but before he could help he was surrounded himself by two more wolves. He swung at them, keeping them at bay and when an icicle shot through one's eye. As the other wolf staggered back in fear the solider brought his sword down, killing it.
He looked back at the woman. She was still holding her frost covered hands up, panting wildly. Her rags were in worse shape than before, her right shoulder now completely bare and covered in dark red blood. She must have been bitten during the wolf's attack. He glanced at her enemy, noting that a dagger had been pushed through the wolf's skull with acute precision. Her eyes stayed on the wolves as she spoke.
"I'm in pain."
She did not move as she stared at the creatures. She felt her blood leaking down her body, quickly going from hot to cold as it was exposed to the chilly morning air. Her breathing was beginning to slow, but her body would not relax.
"I would assume you are in pain. You were bitten by that wolf." He slowly walked toward her pausing when she shot an icicle, smaller than before, at his feet.
"This is real. You're real." Her green eyes grew wild as she yelled, "You're an Imperial solider!"
He held his hands up, showing her his palms. "I am. We escaped together."
As she stared at the man, she recognized him. He was the man with the list. He was the Imperial bastard that sent her to the block! "You were going to let them kill me!" She stood up, the frost around her hands growing larger. "You didn't even try to stop them!"
She heard him gulp as he spoke. "I had no control of what happened back there. I wanted to send you somewhere else."
"You're a fucking liar." Her eyes were almost glowing with fury but she could feel her arms begin to shake. The use of magicka was beginning to ware her down and her continued loss of blood was not helping either. The solider saw this weakness and quickly stepped forward to grab her upper arm. She let loose an icicle the moment he moved, but she was too slow. The ice pierced the earth as her hands were quickly pulled from their casting position.
She looked up at the man almost in fear. It was her own stupidity that brought her to this moment. If she hadn't thought she was killed then she wouldn't have been so reckless. She would have paid more attention to who she was following. She felt her head grow lighter as her vision began to fade. She looked up at the Imperial solider and realized he was hovering over her. Was she laying down? Her eyelids began to grow heavy as she looked up at the man. He had a ripped piece of cloth in his hands and she watched him intently as his lips moved. His hands were warm against her frigid skin and she began to realize how cold she was. His lips continued to move as though he was talking to her, but she could no longer hear him. Her hearing was impaired by the sound of her heart pounding.
Was she dying now? This was much more frightening than what she had thought was death before. After the chopping block, she felt fearless and strong. Now she only felt weak and terrified. Her eyelids dropped lower against her volition. They say that when you die, you hallucinate grand and fantastic things.
They lied.
