Rating: Rated T for violence, dark themes, and some language.

Disclaimer: Skyrim is the property of Bethesda Game Studios.

This is the fourth installment in The Dragonblood Saga. Please read Honor Bound,Madness Rising, and Into Ashes before starting this.


Everything was dark. Hooves beat against dirt somewhere nearby. My seat bumped sharply. A road, maybe? Where was I?

I tried to move my hands. No luck. Rope chafed against them. I was a prisoner. How? And to whom? My head was so heavy. When I tried to lift it, it just lolled to the side. I groaned and slowly opened my eyes. At first, I could only see dark, fuzzy shapes. Then a horse, a cart, and a driver came into focus. Trees lined the road. Pines, I realized. Snow covered the ground. Was I in the Jeralls?

"Hey, you. You're finally awake." A blond, bearded man sat across from me. I watched him through bleary eyes as he leaned forward. His braid swung down to hang in his face. "You were trying to cross the border, right? Walked right into that Imperial ambush, same as us, and that thief over there."

The man sitting beside him gave the blond a glare. "Damn you Stormcloaks. Skyrim was fine until you came along. Empire was nice and lazy." My fists clenched.

But Stormcloaks gave me nothing. I didn't recognize the term at all.

"If they hadn't been looking for you, I could've stolen that horse and been halfway to Hammerfell by now." He turned to me then and said, "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."

"Shut up back there!" The driver snapped. The two of them fell silent.

I gazed at the snow. Something was wrong. The pieces of my memory that should have told me how I had gotten there were just gone. Missing. I remembered… snow, like what was around the cart. And a city. Bruma. Cloud Ruler Temple. A light in the distance, like fire. Then… nothing.

I shivered from the cold. I hated being cold.

"What's wrong with him, huh?" The thief asked. I suddenly noticed the third man in the cart, seated beside me. He was gagged.

"Watch your tongue. You're speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King."

"Ulfric? The Jarl of Windhelm? You're the leader of the rebellion." What rebellion? I didn't remember hearing anything about a rebellion. "But if they've captured you… Oh gods, where are they taking us?"

"I don't know where we're going, but Sovngarde awaits."

"No, this isn't happening. This can't be happening."

I turned my head. Ahead was a town surrounded by a wooden wall, a stone turret rising from the middle. I didn't recognize the place.

"Hey, what village are you from, horse thief?"

"Why do you care?"

"A Nord's last thoughts should be of home." The blond man looked at me. An agitated tingle shot through my limbs. I prayed that he didn't dare refer to me as a Nord. I was an imperial. Imperial!

"Rorikstead. I… I'm from Rorikstead."

"General Tullius, sir. The headsman is waiting," a voice called. The gates opened.

"Good," another man responded, sounding weary. "Let's get this over with."

"Shor, Mara, Dibella, Kynareth, Akatosh. Divines, please help me," the thief prayed.

A voice came unbidden into my head. "Like the goddess?"

"My mother's doing."

"Look at him," the blond spat, nodding toward a figure just inside the gates dressed in full Imperial armor. "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."

The General was speaking to an Alter dressed entirely in black. She was flanked on either side by elves in gilded armor. Her gaze met mine and I caught a flash of cruel, golden eyes. Then the cart moved on and she was gone.

Looking around, the blond man said quietly, "This is Helgen. I used to be sweet on a girl from here. Wonder if Velod is still making that mead with juniper berries mixed in." I wrinkled my nose. Mead. The stuff was sickly sweet. I preferred Sujamma any day. "Funny. When I was a boy, Imperial walls and towers used to make me feel so safe."

My home had once had Imperial walls and towers. Fort Pelagiad had once protected the little town nestled beneath it. My father had worked in those walls, but he was dead. I wondered what happened to Pelagiad and its fort. Destroyed in the eruption of Red Mountain, probably, along with everything else.

The eruption. That was the light I remembered seeing.

The carts pulled up in front of a tower.

"Get these prisoners out of the carts! Move it!" A woman shouted in a commanding tone.

"Why are we stopping?" The thief asked. His voice shook.

"Why do you think? End of the line." The carts bumped to a halt. The prisoners in the other cart began to get out. "Let's go. Shouldn't keep the Gods waiting for us."

"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!"

"Step towards the block when we call your name," the woman called. "One at a time."

There was a sigh from behind me as the blond hopped down. "Empire loves their damn lists."

Ulfric went first, holding his head high, followed by the blond, who was named as Ralof.

"Lokir of Rorikstead."

"No, I'm not a rebel. You can't do this!" The thief bolted, and the woman shouted for him to halt. He ignored her and kept running.

"Archers!" As one, three men drew back their bowstrings and fired. Lokir was dead in moments, three arrows stuck in his back. She turned back to the carts, looking livid. "Anyone else feel like running?"

"Wait. You there, step forward." I took two shuffling steps and lifted my head. The man looked down at the list and back to me. "Who are you?"

"Mara. Mara F…" My voice cracked and I coughed, unable to continue.

"Nord?" He asked. Eyes watering, I shook my head. "Imperial, then. What are you doing in Skyrim…?" He looked back down again. "Captain, what should we do? She's not on the list."

"Forget the list. She goes to the block."

"By your orders, Captain." He nodded to me. "I'm sorry. We'll make sure your remains are returned to Cyrodiil. Follow the Captain, prisoner."

I shuffled behind the woman in gleaming armor to stand with the rest of the prisoners. As I approached, I could hear the General speaking to the gagged man.

"Ulfric Stormcloak. Some here in Helgen call you a hero. But a hero doesn't use a power like the Voice to murder a king and usurp his throne." Ulfric made an angry grunt. "You started this war, plunged Skyrim into chaos, and now the Empire is going to put you down, and restore the peace."

From somewhere in the distance came a strange, echoing roar. The sound was strangely familiar, but I couldn't place it. Everyone gazed at the sky uneasily.

"What was that?"

"It's nothing," the General insisted. "Carry on."

"Yes General Tullius. Give them their last rites."

A priestess garbed in yellow, hooded robes stepped forward and raised her arms, saying, "As we commend your souls to Aetherius, blessings of the Eight Divines upon you–"

Wait… Eight?

"For the love of Talos," one of the Stormcloaks snapped as he strode forward, "shut up and let's get this over with."

The priestess gave him a haughty glare. "As you wish."

"Come on, I haven't got all morning!"

The Captain shoved him down, forcing his head onto the block. The headsman raised his axe.

"My ancestors are smiling at me, Imperials. Can you say the same?"

The axe dropped with a thunk. Immediately there was a cacophony of shouts from the townsfolk and Stormcloaks, screaming insults and blame at both sides.

"Next, the renegade from Cyrodiil!" The Captain shouted over the din.

Another roar. The man who'd read off the list looked nervously at the Captain. "There it is again. Did you hear that?"

"I said, next prisoner," she snapped.

He looked at me then, almost remorseful. "To the block, prisoner. Nice and easy."

I didn't argue. I didn't fight it. I just walked calmly over to the block and knelt around the body. In place of fear was a sort of curiosity. What would happen when I was beheaded? I'd been cursed by an angry Daedric Prince to never die. I should have been dead. I remembered… darkness. A savage growl. Blinding pain, and then–

The headsman raised his axe.

Suddenly, a dark shape swooped down from the clouds, roaring. It was all angles and fangs and spikes.

"What in Oblivion is that?" Tullius shouted.

The thing landed on the tower, which shook beneath its massive weight. Its eyes were a cruel dark red. It glared down at all of us and seemed to sneer. My eyes widened. It couldn't be…

"Dragon!"

Swords were hastily drawn and I heard the pull of a bowstring. But I was frozen, utterly frozen.

The man stood on top of the altar in the center of an enormous marble chamber. He looked at me for a moment, his blue eyes filled with a mix of grief and resolve. I screamed for him to stop, but it was too late. He cast the pendant down and it shattered in an explosion of light. Then he was a dragon, towering above me, his scales the color of molten gold.

My eyes filled with tears. "Martin…"

The black dragon opened its great maw and roared. The blast shoved me roughly back across the cobbles. I winced and squeezed my eyes shut. My whole right side stung with scratches. All around, I could hear shouted orders, screams, explosions.

"Hey, you! Get up! Come on, the gods won't give us another chance!"

It was the blond man, Ralof. He dragged me to my feet and helped me across the plaza. Smoke and fire filled the air. Stones fell from the sky, exploding on impact with the ground. We dodged them, skirting around the fleeing and the fighting. Ralof pushed me into the tower and slammed the door shut behind him.

"Jarl Ulfric! What is that thing? Could the legends be true?"

"Legends don't burn down villages." There was another roar and everyone winced. "We need to move. Now!"

"Up through the tower, let's go!"

I followed Ralof as he raced up the stairs. We were almost at the top when the wall was torn open and the dragon released a torrent of crimson flame.

"Get back!" Ralof shouted.

I flattened myself as the fire raged overhead. When the dragon flew off, I scrambled up the rest of the stairs. Ralof leaned against the edge of the broken stone wall, gazing out through the smoke.

"See the inn on the other side? Jump through the roof and keep going!" I looked down. That wasn't a short jump. "Go! We'll follow when we can."

Steeling myself, I leapt from the tower and down through the fire, rolling as I landed. I stumbled off again, down through a hole in the floor, and out to the street. The damage out there was just as bad, if not worse. Whole buildings were flattened, their remains burning. The legionnaire who'd read off the list was trying to pull a young boy away from a man lying in the street. I raced past them, hoping to find an exit. With an earth-shaking boom, the dragon landed in front of me. My eyes widened and I scrambled back to the others as it let out another jet of flame.

The legionnaire gazed down at me. Burns covered the right half of his face. "Still alive, prisoner? Keep close to me if you want to stay that way." I could only nod and struggle to my feet. "Gunnar, take care of the boy. I have to find General Tullius and join the defense."

"Gods guide you, Hadvar."

The legionnaire, Hadvar, turned down an alley and shouted back at me, "Stay close to the wall!"

The end of the dragon's wing sliced between us, forcing us back. I stayed deathly still, afraid to even move. Then it was off again and so were we.

The General and all the legionnaires were in front of the main gate, openly firing at the monster. As Hadvar approached, he roared, "Into the keep, soldier. We're leaving!"

Hadvar ruefully turned from the fighters. "It's you and me, prisoner."

We were almost to the keep when a man in blue cloaked armor crossed our path. Ralof.

"You damned traitor. Out of my way!"

"We're escaping, Hadvar. You're not stopping us this time."

Hadvar snarled. "Fine. I hope that dragon takes you all to Sovngarde." He swerved past Ralof and kicked the keep's door open. Turning, he shouted, "With me, prisoner. Let's go! I can cut you loose inside the keep!"

The dragon roared again. Without a second thought, I plunged headlong inside.

The room inside was murky. Some of the torches had gone out. The few remaining ones threatened to. I sat down heavily on one of the beds, trying to catch my breath. Hadvar shut the door after a few moments.

"Looks like we're the only ones who made it." He walked in a few feet. I saw his fingers shake as he gingerly felt the burns on his face. "Was that really a dragon? The bringers of the End Times?" He murmured. Shaking his head, he beckoned to me. "Come here. Let me see if I can get those bindings off."

I got up and walked over to him. Pulling a dagger from his belt, he started to cut through the rope.

"Do you… do you know how I got here?" I murmured. Talking was still difficult. My voice was so hoarse I barely even recognized it as my own.

"What do you mean?" He had almost finished sawing through.

"You said we're in Skyrim, but I don't… I don't remember how I got here."

"We found you near Pale Pass, if that's any help."

Pale Pass? Yes. That was where I had been. Running. Then the ogres. After that it was all a blur. I was getting nowhere fast.

The ropes snapped as Hadvar finally cut through them. "There you go. Take a look around, I'm sure you'll find plenty of gear to choose from. I'm going to try to find something for these burns."

I shook out my hands to try and regain some feeling in them. My wrists were rubbed raw and stung when I flexed them. I cringed.

Walking to one of the chests, I carefully knelt down beside it and opened it up to check the contents. Inside was a set of Imperial leather armor, as well as a pair of gloves. I pulled them on. The clothes I wore were nothing but tattered rags that hung loose around me. At least the armor was slightly warmer. From a weapon rack nearby, I took a sword and a bow. I strapped them on and slung a quiver of iron-tipped arrows over my shoulder.

There was a stifled groan from behind me and I turned to see Hadvar dabbing something onto the burns on his face. He shook his head and squared his shoulders.

"Right, let's go. That thing is still out there."

A roar echoed through the walls.

I followed Hadvar through a door at the other side of the room and down a set of hallways. He abruptly held up his hand for me to stop and I heard what he did: voices from up ahead.

"We need to get moving! That dragon is tearing up the whole keep!"

"Just give me a minute… I'm out of breath…"

"Stormcloaks," Hadvar whispered. "Maybe we can reason with them."

I nodded, but my hand twitched toward the hilt of my blade all the same. While I didn't know much about them yet, I knew that they were rebels against the Empire. That was damning enough for me. Hadvar opened the gate leading into the large, circular room. As we entered, the two Stormcloaks looked up. Shouting angrily, they jumped to their feet and drew their weapons. I drew my own in response. So much for "reasoning."

Bringing my sword up, I blocked a swing that one of them aimed at my head. I heard the sound of metal on metal as Hadvar clashed with the other rebel.

"If you want to die, so be it," he said, growling with effort.

"You won't take us alive!"

True enough. I ducked out from beneath the attacker's blows. Whirling, I stabbed my sword through his back. He let out a gurgle and fell at my feet. When I looked over, the other Stormcloak was dead as well.

"Let me see if I can get that door open," Hadvar said. When it wouldn't budge, he smashed the lock.

I followed him through the doorway and down a set of stairs. At the bottom was another hallway. Before I could take more than a few steps, there was another roar. The walls shook.

"Look out!"

I felt a hand grab my shoulder and yank me back just as the ceiling fell. Breathing hard, I pushed myself to my feet again. As the dust settled, I saw that the hall ahead was completely blocked by rubble.

"Damn, that dragon doesn't give up easy," Hadvar muttered. Pushing open a door nearby, he nodded and said, "Come on. This way."


The fort eventually gave way to a passage of tunnels. Hadvar and I hurried along, wary of more attackers. In the caves themselves was a nest of spiders as big as dogs. Thankfully between the two of us they went down easy enough.

Just when I was beginning to think that there was never going to be an end to the caves, we rounded a corner. At the end was an opening filled with sunlight. Hadvar let out a bark of relieved laughter and put on speed.

"This looks like the way out! I was starting to wonder if we'd ever make it."

I followed him through the crevice, shielding my eyes against the bright light as I stepped outside. Blinking, I saw that the sunlight was glinting off patches of brilliantly white snow. Pine trees surrounded us. In the distance I saw snowcapped peaks jutting out into the clear sky.

A moment later I heard the flapping of giant wings and Hadvar hissed, "Wait!"

We ducked behind a nearby boulder to hide. Overhead I saw the dragon fly away toward the mountains. It let out a roar as it passed over us. I squinted at it, frowning. I'd… seen a dragon before, yes, but that was something different. This thing wasn't divine. It didn't burn. Its scales were black as midnight and looked as sharp as ebony knives.

As it vanished into the distance, Hadvar got to his feet.

"Looks like he's gone for good this time, but I don't think we should stick around to see if he comes back," he said, finishing with a slight laugh. Helping me up, he added, "Closest town from here is Riverwood. My uncle's the blacksmith there. I'm sure he'd help you out."

"Well, it seems like I could use all the help I can get." My voice was still scratchy, but less hoarse than it was earlier. That was a good sign. Hadvar laughed again and shook his head.

We walked down the trail for a while, past pine trees and patches of brightly-colored mountain flowers. I heard birds chirping from somewhere nearby.

"You said your name was Mara, right?" He finally asked me. "After the goddess or the Champion?"

I paused at that. The Champion of Cyrodiil. That was the title Ocato had wanted to give me. If Hadvar was asking if I was named after myself… just how much time had passed?

"The goddess, actually." I rubbed my forehead, still trying to fathom exactly what had happened. "Hadvar, what's today's date?"

"It's the seventeenth of Last Seed, year two hundred one of the fourth era."

Oh sweet Divines.

I must have appeared as shocked as I felt because suddenly the legionnaire was giving me an odd look. Shaking my head, I told him, "I'm sorry, it's just… I've been out much longer than I'd thought."

"When was it last you remember?"

"Sun's Dawn." Well, that was an honest enough answer.

Hadvar whistled and shook his head. "That's no short amount of time."

Oh, he had no idea. I was still stunned by the thought. How could I have been out for over one hundred ninety-six years?

"There it is."

I shook my head to clear it and looked in the direction the legionnaire pointed. Down the road a little way was a stone wall topped with a covered walkway. Along the river running beside us I could see a churning water wheel.

Hadvar slowed as we approached the village. Past the wall I could see small wooden houses with thatched roofs. A handful of people milled about on the street and a young boy played with a dog on one of the porches.

"Things look quiet enough here," Hadvar said cautiously. "Come on. There's my uncle."

I followed him down the street a little way until we reached a house with a forge set on the side. A big, blond man was pounding something on an anvil.

"Uncle Alvor! Hello!"

The man glanced up and wiped his hands off on his apron. "Hadvar? What are you doing here? Are you on leave from…?" He seemed to finally get a good look at us because he was hurrying out of the forge a second later. "Shor's bones! What happened to you, boy?"

Hadvar quickly hushed him and looked around. "Uncle, please. Keep your voice down. I'm fine, but we should go inside to talk."

"What's going on? And who's this?"

"She's a friend. Saved my life, in fact," he said hurriedly. "Come on, I'll explain everything, but we need to go inside."

Nodding, Alvor indicated the house. "Okay, okay. Come inside, then. Sigrid will get you something to eat and you can tell me all about it." I followed the two men across the porch and into the house. The moment we stepped inside, Alvor called, "Sigrid! We have company!"

I heard footsteps from below and a woman appeared on the stairs at the other side of the room.

"Hadvar! We've been so worried about you!" She cried out in relief as she leaned against the railing. Suddenly she seemed to notice me. She looked between the two of us for a moment, blinking in surprise. Then she shook her head and gestured to the table. "Come, you two must be hungry. Sit down and I'll get you something to eat."

The three of us seated ourselves at the table while Sigrid busied herself getting food together. Alvor leaned forward, steepling his fingers.

"Now then, boy. What's the big mystery? What are you doing here, looking like you lost an argument with a cave bear?"

"I don't know where to start," Hadvar said slowly. "You know I was assigned to General Tullius's guard. We were stopped in Helgen when we were attacked… by a dragon."

Silence.

Alvor let out a short laugh. "A dragon? That's ridiculous. You aren't drunk, are you boy?"

"Husband. Let him tell his story." She brought over bowls of stew and some bread. Setting one before me, she said gently, "Here you are."

I murmured my thanks and took a spoonful. The taste was fairly bland, as I'd become used to during my time in Cyrodiil. But it was hot and at least that was something.

Hadvar shrugged. "Not much more to tell. This dragon flew over and just wrecked the whole place. Mass confusion. I don't know if anyone else got out alive. I doubt I'd have made it out myself if not for my friend here." He nodded toward me. "I thought you could help us out. Food, supplies, a place to stay."

"Of course! Any friend of Hadvar's is a friend of mine. I'm glad to help however I can. But I need your help. We need your help."

I set down my spoon.

"What do you need?"

"The Jarl needs to know if there's a dragon on the loose. Riverwood is defenseless…" He shook his head. "We need to get word to Jarl Balgruuf in Whiterun to send whatever soldiers he can. If you'll do that for me, I'll be in your debt."

"How do I get there from here?" I asked.

"Cross the river and then head north. You'll see it, just past the falls. When you get to Whiterun just keep going up. When you get to the top of the hill, you're at Dragonsreach, the Jarl's palace."

"I'll go as soon as I can."

Nodding, the man got to his feet and made for the door. "Well, I'd better get back to work. You two make yourselves at home."

The moment the door shut, a girl's voice piped up from the other side of the room.

"Hadvar, did you really see a dragon? What did it look like? Did it have big teeth?"

"Hush, child. Don't pester your cousin," Sigrid admonished.

I hadn't noticed the child before. Like Alvor she had blonde hair which was braided back away from her face. She was practically bouncing up and down with excitement. In her hands she clutched a small doll. The toy had a tiny wooden sword sewn to its hand and red yarn hair that was pulled back into a ponytail. My heart plummeted at the sight of it. That couldn't be…


Needing to get out of that house, I made the excuse that I desperately needed to clean up. I quickly found a secluded spot downriver. In the water, I saw my rippling reflection. Dirt was caked on my face in thick, ugly splotches and my hair was tangled. No wonder they'd grabbed with the Stormcloaks. I looked like I'd crawled out of some gods-forsaken ditch, which I supposed I probably had.

I stripped out of my armor and plunged into the water. It was like ice against my skin. My head broke the surface and I gasped. My teeth chattered. Still I scrubbed all the dirt off my skin and combed it out of my hair with my fingers, hissing as I hit knots in the strands.

Once I'd gotten it all off, I climbed out of the river and wrung out my hair. As I wiped the droplets of moisture off face, I expected to feel the raised edges of the long, thin scars I'd gotten during the battle at Bruma on my right cheek. Instead I felt nothing but smooth skin beneath my fingertips. I froze. Frantically I searched my body all over. The scars on my arms and shoulders from not being able to block strikes in time, the ones on my face from that spider daedra, the one on my stomach from where I'd been stabbed by the Camonna Tong… every last one of them was gone. I knelt down by the water's edge, heart beating fast as I stared at myself.

How much damage had been done to me to erase every scar, every mark, every wound I'd ever gotten?