The sound of wooden wheels and the steady beat of walking horses was the first thing she noticed. Her hearing, being so delicate and sensitive, always seemed to alert her to different surroundings before her eyes had a chance to open. It was a curse at times, but more often than not she was grateful, as it had saved her hide numerous times in the past. Daring to open her eyes, she found herself groggy and hazy; her blackened vision was proof of that. Blinking away the last of the haziness from her eyes, she finally got a good look at her surroundings. She wasn't surprised to find herself in a carriage being pulled by a horse; one being driven by an Imperial wasn't so crazy either. She wasn't even worried when she noticed that they were riding through a large, mountainous forest on a cobblestone road. She was, however, surprised to find her wrists bound together, and that three other men joined her for this ride. The one opposite to her work strange, blueish armor that she had never seen before. A Nord with blonde hair, she turned her attention to the other men on the ends of the cart. Both Nords as well, each clearly had different statuses based on their apparel. The one beside the blonde was darker haired and in ragged cloths that matched hers. A thief, she suspected. The other in long brown hair wore very fine cloths. Cloths, she could tell, were not normal in the world of battle. The wrappings around his mouth made her curious; of all the places to bind, why gag the mouth?
Glancing ahead of her briefly, she realized that they were not alone. Another cart was being pulled ahead of them. Many other men and women bound and riding in the back. Their little caravan seemed to be escorted by more Imperial soldiers on horse back; one at the front, and one behind them. Before she had a chance to speak, the blonde Nord before her beat her to the punch.
"Hey you! You're finally awake." he said. "You were trying to cross the border, right? Walked right into that imperial ambush, same as us, and that thief over there." he nodded to the man beside him.
"Damn you Stormcloaks," said thief growled out. "Skyrim was fine until you came along. Empire was nice and lazy."
Skyrim? She wasn't aware that she was still in Skyrim. Yes, she was trying to cross the border. But she hadn't realized that she never made it out.
"If they hadn't been looking for you, I couldn't stolen that horse and been half way to Hammerfeld by now." the thief continued. Glancing in her direction, he continued. "You there, you and me, we shouldn't be here! It's these Stormcloaks the empire wants."
Growing a bit irritated, she opened her mouth to speak, but the blonde Nord beat her to it. "We're all brothers and sisters in binds now, thief."
"Shut up back there!" the driver yelled over his shoulder as he continued to steer the horse down the path behind the other carriage.
"What's wrong with him, huh?" the thief nodded toward the gagged man.
"Watch your tongue!" the blonde Nord snapped. With a sense of nobility, he continued, "You're speaking to Ulfic Stormcloak, the true High King!"
"Ulfric? The Jarl of Windhelm?" the thief said.
She cocked her head slightly. She had heard of Windhelm, and she had heard rumors of a war happening through Skyrim. But she had lived in the woods, away from civilization for her entire life; she hadn't realized that there truly was a civil war. It was true her father would periodically leave the wilderness if they were truly desperate, but he rarely told of the adventures he had during this time.
"You're the leader of the rebellion!" the thief continued. "But if they've captured you..." the thief's eyes suddenly widened. "Oh Gods! Where are they taking us?"
The blonde Stormcloak's face suddenly fell sullen. "I don't know where we're going. But Sovengarde awaits."
Sovengarde? Her father had often spoken about how much he wanted to go to Sovengarde when he died. The Hall of Valor was the final destination for true Nords, he would say. Her pondered thoughts were quickly interrupted by the thief.
"No! This can't be happening! This isn't happening!" he panicked.
She saw the blonde Stormcloak's face softened for a moment.; showing compassion, perhaps.
"Hey," he spoke softer, "what village are you from, horse thief?"
The thief cast him a cold glare. "Why do you care?"
"A Nord's last thoughts, should be of home."
The thief hesitated before replying. "Roristead. I'm... I'm from Rorikstead."
"General Tullius, sir!"
The new voice prompted her to turn her head. They were entering a village, it seemed. It was then she noticed the leader of their little caravan was wearing fancier imperial armor. Gold designs covered the front of the fancy armor, and his grey hair suggested experience in the field.
"The headsman is waiting!" the soldier on the ground continued.
"Good. Let's get this over with!" the General sat high on his horse as he broke away from the caravan.
"Shor. Mara. Dibella. Kynereth. Akatosh! Devines, please help me!" the thief resumed his panicked tone as they passed by the general.
Glancing over toward the fancy armored man, she noticed a horse with an Altmer upon it. While she wasn't overly prejudiced against any of the races that she had ever met (not that she had met many of them in her lifetime), her family had had a particular uneasiness with the high elves. She never understood why, but it was always taught by her mother and father to avoid the high elves unless absolutely necessary. The Altmer's eyes suddenly locked with hers, causing her irritation to grow.
"Look at him," the blonde Stormcloak sneered, "General Tullius, the military governor. And it looks like the Thalmor are with him! Damn elves! I bet they have something to do with this!"
She was relieved that the her co-passenger agreed with her suspicions, but time wasn't standing still as they rode deeper into the city. Cobblestone and wooden houses dotted the area. Some where homes, others were shops. There even stood a few solid stone towers, doted at the top with banners that fluttered in the breeze. She glanced at the blonde Nord, who seemed to understand her unspoken question.
"This is Helgan," he spoke softly. "I used to be sweet on a girl from here. I wonder if Vilod is still making that meed with juniper berries mixed in."
She couldn't help but imagine the the taste of the tangy berry, silently wishing for a slice of her mother's delicious crosata. Before she could vocalize, she was once again interrupted by the blonde Stormcloak's words.
"Funny. When I was a boy, imperial walls and towers used to make me feel so safe."
Unsure of what to say, she decided to keep quiet as they continued their ride into the belly of the city. As the carriage rounded a corner, they all passed by a house with a small family residing on the porch. She couldn't help her keen hearing as the man spoke to his son.
"Who are they, daddy? Where are they going?"
The father's expression became worried as he glanced from his son to the carts rolling past. "You need to go inside, little cub."
The boy glanced up at his father. "Why? I want to watch the soldiers."
The father placed a friendly but firm hand on his son's shoulder, his tone authoritative as he spoke. "Inside the house. Now."
"Yes papa," the lad sighed as he retreated behind the wooden door. She felt a pang of pity suddenly. A boy should not have to be introduced to such harshness so young in life.
Imperial soldiers were stationed all around as other members of the city leaned against the railings of their decks, watching as the horses were steered toward a small wall opposite to the largest tower in the center of the city. There the driver ahead of them halted, prompting their driver to pull beside the first.
"Why are we stopping?" the thief asked.
"Why do you think?" the blonde Nord scoffed. "End of the line." he paused and glanced back at her before continuing. "Let's go. Shouldn't keep the Gods waiting for us."
They all stood up, and filed off of the carriage.
"No, wait! We're not rebels!"
"Face your death with some courage, thief."
"You've got to tell them, we weren't with you! This is a mistake!"
She was mildly surprised that he seemed to include her into all of his points. But before she could question it, she noticed the two before her. A captain guard in full armor stared them down. Another Nord, wearing their armor ran toward them as well, and stood beside the officer holding a large book and quill in his hand.
"Step toward the block when we call your name, one at a time!" The captain barked. The blonde Stormcloak sighed.
"Empire loves their damn lists."
The nord beside the captain spoke. "Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm."
The Jarl stepped toward the tower with his head held high, as only a noble could.
"It has been an honor, Jarl Ulfric," her blonde co passenger said softly, though making sure the Imperial soldiers could hear him. Scowling, the Nord with the list crossed off the name and spoke again.
"Ralof, of Riverwood."
Her blonde friend stood strong and marched toward the center plaza, following in his leaders footsteps. She had to hand it to him. He was loyal, to say the least.
"Lokir of Rorikstead," the Nord crossed both those names off the list.
"No!" the thief exclaimed. "I'm not a rebel! You can't do this!"
She was surprised to see Lokir take off full sprint back up the road from which they came. The captain barked our, "Halt!" as they watched him run.
"You're not going to kill me!" Lokir half cackled as he didn't slow his pace.
"Archers!" the captain yelled. Within a moment, a single arrow flew from one of the surrounding towers and pierced through Lokir's back. The thief let out only a pained groan as he collapsed to the ground in a pool of his own blood. Turning back to all of the other prisoners, the captain's expression was hard.
"Anyone else feel like running?" she challenged. Nobody answered her as they were checked off of the lists corresponding to their names. Her own list-checker glanced at her and spoke, his tone softer than the captains.
"Wait!" his voice still held authority as suddenly all eyes turned toward him. "You there! Step forward." Deciding to do as she was told for the time being, she stepped close to them both as she looked into his hard, brown eyes. "Who are you?"
Taking a small breath to steady herself, she proudly replied. "My name is Kyrin."
The Nord before her began scrolling through his list, saying, "Are you with one of the trade caravans, Kajiht? Your kind always seem to find trouble."
Kyrin glared at this Nord. If only she wasn't bound by the wrists...
"Captian, what should we do?" the Nord turned to the officer beside him. "She's not on the list."
"Forget the list. She goes to the block," the captain said firmly.
"By your orders, captain," the nord turned to face Kyrin again. "I'm sorry. We will make sure your remains are returned to Elswyre."
Kyrin couldn't believe what she was hearing! Before she could argue that Skyrim was her home, the Nord spoke again. "Follow the captain, prisoner."
Kyrin clamped her mouth shut and should couldn't stop her tail twitching in aggravation any longer. As she followed the captain, she found herself standing beside Ralof. He glanced back at her, a sad smile on his face. Before her she saw a large block; no doubt used for execution. The dark man in black robes and mask beside the block confirmed her suspicions. Or perhaps, it was the massive axe he held that clued her in. Beside him was a priest of some kind, dawned in long, brown robes and a gold head wrap.
"Ulfric Stormcloak."
General Tullius's voice caught Kyrin's attention. Whipping her head around, she saw the army general standing before the gagged Jarl, a hardened expression on his face.
"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!"
The voice? Kyrin furred her brow as she listened to he strangled muffles from the Jarl. Her father had often spoke of the voice. He stayed cryptic with it, however, and never managed to go into explanation. Every time she would ask about it, he would always tell her, "You will understand someday." Her thoughts were again disrupted as the general was getting hotter under the collar, as he recited his speech as if he had been practicing it for months.
"You started this war, and plunged Skyrim into chaos! And now the Empire is going to put you down, and restore the peace!"
A sudden, bone chilling sound echoed throughout the mountains. Kyrin had never heard of such a noise before; but her senses were telling her there was trouble. Her instincts were telling her to grab a bow, or even an ax of her own and prepare for battle. Of course, with her current predicament, it wasn't like she was going to wield anything to aid her.
"What was that?" one of the Imperial soldiers exclaimed.
"It's nothing," General Tullius said, though for the briefest of moments Kyrin could see doubt and worry on his face. It was quickly replaced with his hardened military expression before he turned toward his captain. "Carry on."
"Yes, General Tullius!" the captain saluted enthusiastically. A kiss up, Kyrin suspected. As the captain turned toward the priest, she simply said, "Give them their last rights."
The priestess nodded and raised her arms to the air. "As we commend your souls to Atherius, blessing of the eight divines upon thee-"
"For the love of Talos, shut up, and let's get this over with!" One of the Stormcloak soldiers interrupted. The priestess quickly halted her ceremony as the captain narrowed her eyes.
"As you wish," she sneered through gritted teeth.
The red haired Nord approached the block and faced it. "Come on! I haven't got all morning!"
The captain pushed him to his knees, and used her foot to position his head across the block. Kyrin could almost hear the smile in his voice as he spoke his last words.
"My ancestors are smiling at me, Imperials. Can you say the same?"
And with a mighty swing the headsman smashed the ax onto the Nord's neck, cutting away the head in one snapping motion.
"You imperial bastards!" another Stormcloak soldier exclaimed.
"Justice!" one of the townsman yelled. A woman yelled "Death to the Stormcloaks!" as the captain kicked the headless body off to the side. Tough crowd.
"As fearless in death, as he was in life," Ralof mumbled just loud enough for Kyrin to hear him.
"Next!" the captain exclaimed. "The cat!"
Kyrin was about to snarl when the loud, echoing sound repeated itself, this time seeming closer. Kyrin listened as she tried to pinpoint what it was. It sounded like a roar. But not from any beast she had ever come across in the wilderness.
"There it is again!" her designated list-checker exclaimed.
The captain ignored him and spoke even harsher. "I said, next, prisoner."
The Nord sighed before turning toward Kyrin again. "To the block, prisoner, nice and easy," his tone seemed apologetic. It was clear he didn't want this fate for her. But he was a good little soldier, and was outranked.
Kyrin breifly closed her eyes, biting back her own anger. This was it. This was how it was going to end. As she walked toward the block, she scanned her surroundings for a way to escape. Guards covered the place, and arrows were all trained on the prisoners. She reached the block in less time than she would have liked as the captain pressed onto her shoulder hard and pushed her across the block. Kyrin wrinkled her nose a bit; at least they could have emptied out the previous victim's head before placing her there. With her new angle, she could see the headsman staring at her, as well as the blue sky above the tower. She decided to focus on the large mountain behind the tower as a final view from the world she lived in. Just as the headsman lifted his ax, a large black shape suddenly flew across the bright sky. The large roar that followed was deeper than the echos, but Kyrin could clearly tell that was the creature they previously came from.
"What in Oblivian is that!?" General Tullius exclaimed.
"Sentries! What do you see?"
No sooner had the captain spoke did the massive creature land on top of the large tower; the shock of it's landing was great enough to stagger the headsman into dropping his ax inches from her head. It's black, spiked hide shone like ebony in the sunlight while it used its wings like limbs to grip the tower. As piercing red eyes suddenly met Kyrin's, a Stormcloack soldier in the back spoke up before Kyrin could.
"Dragon!"