My vision slowly opened then closed, bright light hurting my eyes as I faded in and out from unconsciousness. My head pounded, pain shooting more painfully with each throb. And when my eyes finally adjusted to the brightness of my surroundings, I let out a heavy sigh. Snow covered pine trees laced the trails, with cobbled dirt trails and mountains in the near and far distance. I had made it, right? But my sudden hope was crushed as I noticed that I was moving. I was in a wooden wagon, drawn by a single dark brown horse, whose tail flicked as the wagon's driver hummed to himself. But the rider was wearing leather armor. And as I looked down, my hands were bound with rope. Oh no. My immediate reaction was to panic. But before I could even think about freaking out, a man's broad voice made me freeze.
"Hey, you. You're finally awake." I looked up to see a strong looking man with an unshaven face and long blonde hair. But he wasn't the only one in the wagon with me. To his left was a scrawny dark haired man, who was covered in dirt and wore something a prisoner would wear, unlike the blonde man, who wore armor that was very different from the driver's. and then I noticed the massive man beside me. Everyone in the wagon had their hands bound, but for some reason, whoever our captors might be, went through the trouble to make sure he wouldn't speak. He looked almost similar to the man in front of me, but he seemed to be someone of importance…or fortune.
"You were trying to cross the border, right? Walked right into that Imperial trap, same as us, and that thief over there." Was I still in Cyrodiil? But I did remember the ambush. I don't know if I crossed the border between Cyrodiil and Skyrim, but that probably didn't matter anymore. But I had to know, was I in Skyrim? I was brought out of my thoughts as the scrawny fellow began to speak, his tone agitated.
"Damn you Stormcloaks. Skyrim was fine until you came along. Empire was nice and lazy." Skyrim. "If they hadn't been looking for you, I could have stolen that horse and be halfway to Hammerfell." He suddenly brought his attention to me. "You there. You and me - we shouldn't be here. It's these Stormcloaks the Empire wants."
The first man huffed. "We're all brothers and sisters in binds now, thief."
"Shut up back there!" The driver shouted, not even bothering to turn around.
The thief stared at the man beside me. "And what's wrong with him, huh?"
The blonde raised his voice, elbowing him. "watch your tongue. You're speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King." The thief wore a grim expression.
"Ulfric? The Jarl of Windhelm? You're the leader of the rebellion…" His eyes widened. "But if they've captured you…Oh gods, where are they taking us?"
"I don't know where we're going, but Sovngarde awaits." Death was waiting for us…wherever it may be.
Beyond the path our wagon took, only a few yards ahead of us was another wagon with captured Stormcloak soldiers. And beyond them, a town approached. The thief began to panic.
"No, this can't be happening. This isn't happening."
The blonde held a softer tone. "Hey, what village are you from horse thief?"
The thief shot back at him. "Why do you care?"
"A Nord's last thoughts should be of home."
His eyes softened and he tilted his head up. "Rorikstead. I'm…I'm from Rorikstead." Our wagons slowly paraded into the small town, passing under a walkway, where an Imperial soldier could be heard overhead.
"General Tullius, sir! The headsman is waiting!" Headsman? That could only mean…execution. And then someone called back to the soldier, who I assumed was this General Tullius.
"Good, let's get this over with." And as he comes into view, I'm definitely sure I saw General Tullius. He was sitting on a horse, surrounded by people in gold and ebony hooded cloaks. But I could tell they were High Elves. Inaudible conversations continued around us as we moved further into the town.
"This is Helgen. I used to be sweet on a girl from here." The blonde smiled to himself. "Wonder if Vilod is still making that mead with Juniper berries mixed in." I found myself surprised at how well this man was handling all of this. Rather than stressing over his last moments -just as the thief- he brought forth tender memories that made him happy. But I didn't want to search my mind for such things right now. But, when did I ever? "Funny. When I was a boy, Imperial walls and towers used to make me feel so safe." But he still held that small smile, even though we were going to die. I wanted to smack him and make him stop. How could someone welcome death so easily? We came into a court yard, but I strained to watch as a little boy watched us, asking his father who we were. But his father pushed him inside, before the boy could even object. And then, finally, the wagons stop, standing side by side.
A woman in heavy armor comes towards the wagons with a few Imperial soldiers. "Get these prisoners out of the carts. Move it!" Whoever this strong spoken woman was, she was definitely in charge. The guards began pulling us prisoners out of the wagons. Ulfric Stormcloak was the first to be dragged from the wagon.
"No! Wait! We're not rebels!" The thief shouted as a soldier yanked him out of the cart and onto the ground. He stumbled and quickly regained his balance. I fought the urge to attack the soldier who grabbed my arm and forced me out. But I didn't want to cause any unnecessary complications. And then the blonde hopped out and stood beside me, giving me a reassuring glance. But it didn't make me feel any better. The thief continued to plead.
"You've got to tell them! We weren't with you! This is a mistake!"
"Face your death with some courage, thief." The man beside me barked. The Imperial Captain began to push around her orders again.
"Step towards the block when we call your name. One at a time."
"Empire loves their damn lists." The blonde muttered to himself. Soldiers at both carts began calling names.
"Ulfric Stormcloak. Jarl of Windhelm." Ulfric walked towards the guided area, which was for the audience to an executioner's block, with General Tullius, the headsman, a few Imperial soldiers, and a Priestess. My hearts sank.
"It has been an honor, Jarl Ulfric!" The blonde was called next.
"Ralof of Riverwood." And then he nodded to me and walked away.
"Lokir of Rorikstead." The thief immediately retaliated.
"No, I'm not a rebel. You can't do this!" And then he ran towards the road. I was almost tempted to join him. Almost.
The Imperial Captain yelled after him. "Halt!" He didn't stop. "Archers!" An Imperial bowman pulled back his bow, his sight following him.
"You're not going to kill me!" But he didn't make it far before an arrow pierced through his chest and he crumbled to the ground. Dead.
"Anyone else feel like running?" The Captain shouted. No one dared. And then they finally called upon me.
"Wait. You there. Step forward." I obeyed not looking up. "Who are you?" I wanted to lie. It didn't matter what my name was now, right? What's a name when you're dead. But I only half lied.
"Amina Irthe…" I said my mother's name. "…from High Rock." The soldier gave me a questioning look.
"You from Daggerfall, Breton? Fleeing from some court intrigue?" Or something. The soldier turned to the Captain. "Captain. What should we do? She's not on the list." I wasn't surprised by her response.
"Forget the list. She goes to the block."
The soldier gave me a sympathetic look as the Captain walked to towards the other prisoners. "I'm sorry. We'll make sure your remains are returned to High Rock." And then I followed the others to the yard, around the block. But at that point, I blocked out everything. I didn't make it this far to die like this. Death by association. Death by coincidence. And I only came back to this cruel reality when both of my arms were grabbed and I was pushed towards the block. They pushed me to my knees and someone pressed their foot on my back, forcing my chest against the now bloody block. And I wanted to scream when I saw someone's head not far from me. And the worst part is that my head was turned towards the headsman, and I had to watch as he lifted up his scythe. And then I closed my eyes. And I waited. But death never came.
"What in oblivion is that?" People began to scream. The ground shook. I opened my eyes. Right above the headsman, sitting on the tower, was…
"Dragon!" It shouted and the sky suddenly filled with dark clouds that formed in a whirling spiral, thunder boomed and lightning flashed across the sky. I roll away and someone pulls me to my feet, pulling me with them as they run. I opened my hazy eyes, which had been wet with tears. And my hands were cut free. And I looked up to see Ralof. He shoved a dagger into my hands.
"Run! Don't stop running! Never stop running!" And he pushed me towards a hole through the towns walls. But it only took a glance to see how destroyed the town already was, the dragon breathing fire down onto the villagers and soldiers. "Go!" And with that, I did. And I ran. And ran, and ran, and ran. And I never stopped running.