Hey guys. I'm back a lot quicker than I thought. The story is flowing rather smoothly so I'm writing as the story solidifies in my head.

I do not own Elder Scrolls.

Chapter 2 - A Wagon, An Axe and the Start of the End

Turns out sleeping for two centuries takes a lot out of you. I mean seriously. I had awoken the next day with my fever still running and my body as sluggish and uncooperative as before. Alvethaur had confined me to bed rest barely allowing me to get up to use the chamber pot. He refused to call a Healer from any of the temples lest he be recognised. Despite the Blades breaking ties with the Empire they still fought against the Aldmeri Dominion in the Great War. Angered by the brutal murder of hundreds of their members. He had fought on many battlefields and could be recognised if one of high enough social standing saw him. As such he tended to me himself, passing the time by sharing stories of the years following my disappearance as well as recalling old memories back. Most being before Kvatch fell to the Oblivion Gate.

That was four months ago.

I had convinced Alvethaur that if he wanted to remain undiscovered, but work behind the scenes he needed to relocate from the little cottage outside the Imperial City. His spies posted throughout all the holds – most being paid beggars and thieves – needed to be able to access him and it was hard from the centre of Tamriel. By the time I had him convince I had recovered from my fever and with constant exercise had regained strength in my twelve year old body. The clothes I had been found in were not saved from time and had grown worn with age. Luckily my necklace still hung from my neck, the blood red gem hidden beneath my shirts. To lose it would be very bad. Disastrous even. Regarding my attire, I had snuck out of the cottage in the early hours and ventured to the city just in time for the merchants to begin their sales for the day. With gold found in my little pouch I had acquired several outfits of clothing – both summer and winter as well as healing potions and books on recent history. No one had paid me a second glance after donning one of my newer dresses and I was able to observe the city like a shadow.

Not much had changed in regards to the outlay of the city. A few new buildings dotted here or there, but it was essentially the same. The people however. That was a different story. The air itself was strained by nervous fear from the adults of the city. A few went about their day happily enough, but the more mature generations had a morbid glean in their eyes. Eyes that had seen the horrors of war, this one made by mortals.

I had left the city quickly after that and arrived just in time to see Alvethaur having a full out panic attack.

He tried to ground me to the cottage. The nerve!

I argued that there was barely anyone alive in the entirety of Tamriel that had known me personally, less as to my true birth right. To the people who saw me today I was a simple Imperial girl buying the latest fashion and books from the merchants. I had even caught sight of a few of these Thalmor agents and they hadn't so much as glanced at me. Alvethaur wasn't happy and had said so. I had to remind him I spent four years of my life running from daedra with Aloynd after I had grown restless with the Blades' Headquarters. I knew how to hold myself in a skirmish long enough to get away safely. I wasn't helpless in any sense of the word.

After that I was allowed free roam of the Imperial City and the neighbouring forests so long as I had returned by nightfall. Alvethaur had dove into old Blade tomes searching for a safe place to hold up after we had left the cottage. This brought up the next question; where would we go?

The elven provinces were out; Summerset and Valenwood for obvious reasons regarding the Thalmor and Morrowind due to the almost inhabitable atmosphere after Red Mountain had erupted five years after I had disappeared. Alvethaur said it was because of a meteor striking Vvardenfell and I couldn't help but feel for the locals. Elsweyr was also under heavy Thalmor influences as was Black Marsh. Hammerfell had driven out the influence and cut ties with the Empire completely, but had blocked its borders from most travellers and Orsimer was too far out to be an efficient hideout. Which left…

"Welcome to Skyrim; home of the harsher winters and the harshest humans." Alvethaur joked coldly, shivering against the bitter wind despite being wrapped up in thick furs.

"And birth place of the Empire I hail from thank you very much," I taunted back dryly. "And aren't you supposed to be a Blade? You're shivering more than I am?" No denying it was cold, but it wasn't that much different from Bruma on the other side of the pass.

"The Great War was never fought in Skyrim," Alvethaur defended himself which was ruined by another shiver. "And you're Nordic descent while I hail from the hot woods down south. Of course I'm freezing!"

I snorted and pulled at the reins of my horse who nickered impatiently. "You're also a hardened veteran and I a little girl." My horse snorted again and I ran my fingers through the white mane. "Easy Snow-Gale, we'll move in a bit."

I could see Alvethaur glare at my horse out of the corner of my eye. "While you have the excuse of a magical coma what does that beast of an equine have? I told you it was Daedric descent."

I rolled my eyes and looked over my shoulders at him. "He's the finest bred Imperial horse born from a long line of royal equines. He was also my seventh birthday present from my grandfather if you must know. They only answer to the Septim line." The white stallion neighed as if in agreement and hoofed the ground.

Alvethaur scoffed and kicked his own chestnut mount into a light trot to which Snow-Gale matched without any prompting from me. "They still don't live two centuries."

"Not everything is between Nirn and Oblivion you know?" Tired of the argument I decided to observe the snowy mountain scenery that surrounded us. Bruma, while it snowed a far bit from late autumn to spring couldn't hold a candle to the frost bitten tundra of the Jerall Mountains. Vegetation was far and few between and predators such as bears and wolves in abundance. While I was Nordic descent my body was still more Imperial and as such felt the cold just as well. I had wrapped myself up in fur-lined clothing with Aloynd's cloak wrapped around me tightly, contrasting against Snow-Gale's snowy back. We continued our journey down the steep path and finally came to a crossroad paved in cobblestone with a worn signpost pointing north and the other west.

Alvethaur pulled out a small map of Skyrim's roads before marking down our position. "We're now in Falkreath Hold which I guess you can compare to our counties back in Cyrodiil. The north path heads up to Whiterun Hold which is the centre of Skyrim. The west path heads across the southern border up to the Hold's capital and then branches off into the west side of Whiterun or the eastern edges of the Reach."

I nodded. "You think Sky Haven Temple is somewhere in the Reach?"

Alvethaur nodded. "Just as the war began I corresponded with all the Blades across Tamriel, warning them of what had happened in the Imperial City. It's customary for the Blades to have drop off points for our couriers. It's never too far from the actual temple."

I looked at the map and nodded. "You'd better hope it is 'cause the Reach is quite big."

Alvethaur chuckled without humour. "And it's all mountains," he paused before sighing. "Are you sure this is the best idea?"

I hummed thoughtfully. "What? Coming to Skyrim or splitting up?"

"Both," he scratched the back of his head warily. "I know Whiterun Hold is the safest place for you but-"

I cut him off. "You said the Reach is having too many problems with the natives. While I can hold myself against bandits I doubt I would come out of an organised attack on that scale unscathed."

"I know, I know." He waved me off. "But you're still just a kid."

I huffed. "I'm four years younger than you!"

He cracked a smile. "In spirit maybe, but as far as mind and body go you're a child." He let the smile slip and sighed. "I want you to send a letter every week to the drop off point. If you miss one week I'm coming back to get you."

"Yes father." I snipped before smiling and reaching over to pull him into a hug. "I'll be fine Alvethaur. I'm more concerned about you so make sure you don't forget to send a message. I'll ask the courier to pick up any letters you leave at the drop off and bring them back. I'll know if you miss one."

He laughed with more feeling and pulled me tighter into the hug, almost pulling me off Snow-Gale. I mumbled a light protest but accepted the affection, even as he ruffled my braided locks. Pulling away he handed me a copy of the map and snapped the reins on his mount.

"Stay safe!" He called out as he took off down the west road towards Falkreath. I waved my hand in the air in farewell.

"Gods guide you," I sighed and gently tapped Snow-Gale's side. With a light nicker he trotted off at a steady pace up the North road. The sun was just peaking over the Jerall Mountains signalling mid-morning in the surprisingly clear sky. There had been a light mist of fog earlier up, but had quickly dissipated after leaving Pale pass. Either way the air was just as frigid despite the usually warm month of Last Seed. I couldn't help but rub my hands together to conserve the warmth. I hoped Whiterun wasn't as bad.

We didn't travel far when the sound of hooves knocking against the hard earth echoed through the dense trees of the forest. Snow-Gale snorted at the noise and I could feel him tensing underneath the fur-rimmed saddle. I gently pulled him to a full halt and listened carefully, right hand moving to the steel dagger attached to my left hip. The sound grew and soon I could hear angered shouts echoing behind the pounding hooves. Snow-Gale shook his head violently and lifted his forelegs slightly in an agitated motion.

I nearly slipped from the saddle at the unexpected lift. "Woah! Easy boy." I knotted my fingers through his wild mane and held it tightly, my other hand still resting on my dagger.

"HALT!" The sudden shout came from my left and I looked up just in time to see a horse come flying from between the trees. Either the rider didn't see us or didn't care, either way the panicked horse jumped from the small ledge that bordered the road right and right over Snow-Gale's back. The height to which the equine had jumped wasn't enough to clear Snow-Gale or myself and so I felt my body erupt in pain as the massive creature smacked right into me. Beyond the pain I heard Snow-Gale's outraged screeches as he was knocked flat on his side by the other horse. I hit the ground and thanked the Gods when neither horse landed on top of me. My head cracked against the floor and my vision blacked for an instant. Sound was in abundance where my sight lacked. More hooves sounded against the harsh floor followed by angered voices. Snow-Gale was still whinnying in what seemed to be protest and the other horse sounded in pain. Poor thing probably broke a leg in the fall.

I could feel myself drifting away into unconsciousness and panicked. There was little doubts I had a concussion from my soft head meeting hard cobble and falling asleep was the last thing I wanted to do. The voices were close now and I could hear the sounds of a light struggle.

"No, no, no! I'm not a rebel!" A scared voice cried out. "I was just passing by! I have nothing to do with them." Sounded like an arrest which meant the idiot who ran me over was running from guards of some kind.

"General Tullius! What do we do with him?" The criminal's protests died off and the voices of the guards could be heard.

"Throw him in with the rest of them. The Legion can't afford to set free a spy." Legion? As in the Imperial Legion? My brain processed this information sluggishly and I let out a groan. Of all the people who could have ran into me.

"Why are there two horses?" I heard one soldier ask before he yelled out in pain. "Vile beast!" I inwardly sighed; trust Snow-Gale to bite a soldier of the Legion. I heard the clambering off hooves pass me and a heavy breath on my neck. Forcing my body to move despite the blindness I latched onto Snow-Gale's reins as he tried to pull me up. A sword cut through the air and I felt the reins snap under the blade forcing me to the ground. Knowing he was outnumbered and carrying important documents Snow-Gale cut his losses and galloped off.

"Stop it!" A soldier cried out, but after hearing several arrows pierce the air and hit nothing but dirt or bark I knew Snow-Gale had escaped.

Letting out an audible groan of pain I slumped back onto the hard floor and let darkness take over in a blissful sleep.

I was alive. If the pain in the back of my head was proof enough that is. My back also ached from where I had collided with the floor, but after flexing my muscles I felt nothing had torn or broken. My body had been propped in an upright position on a wooden seat, my head lolling on some sort of fabric as I had been dead to the world. I let my eyelids flutter and felt the familiar stabs of light piercing my retinas. The world swam into focus and I let out a relieved sigh that I hadn't actually gone blind from the fall.

"You're awake?" An accented voice called out to me and I lifted my head from its resting perch to see a young blond Nord in a leather cuirass watching me curiously. I could do little more than blink at him as he sighed in relief and smiled. "When they brought you here I was sure you were dead."

I looked around me and was surprised to see that I was sitting in a horse-drawn wagon. The forest of Falkreath Hold surrounded us as well as dozens of finely dressed soldiers that I recognised as Legionnaires. The sun hadn't moved far in the sky meaning I hadn't been out for too long. I looked back at the Nord and was shocked to see his hands were tied together.

The Nord saw my gaze and smiled humourlessly before gesturing to myself. "I'm surprised they put an innocent child on a prisoner's cart." I looked around me to see we also shared the cart with a two other Nords; one more weedy looking with slick brown hair wearing rags and the other an older man in fine clothed furs both bound and the latter gagged with a filthy cloth.

"Where…?" I lifted my hand to my head to try and sooth the headache there. The Nord looked at me sympathetically.

"We had stopped suddenly when a horse leapt out in front of our carriage nearly causing the entire thing to overturn." He scowled as he glared at the brown-haired Nord next to him. "Half the guards ran after the horse and when they came back they had this horse-thief in binds and you over their shoulder. Something about finding you injured on the road?"

I felt the bump on the back of my head and let out a little whimper of pain. "Some idiot ran his horse into mine and threw us all to the ground."

The blond Nord blinked with wide eyes before turning them to glare at the suddenly cowering brunette. "You nearly killed an innocent child?" I blinked in shock when it hit me that the brown haired Nord was the one who ran me over. "Over what? A stupid horse you stole?"

The Nord's eyes went wild with fear as he yelled back. "What would you have me do? They chased after me! Of course I ran. It's not my fault the stupid girl got in the way. If it wasn't for you Stormcloaks I'd would be halfway to Hammerfell by now."

"Shut up back there!" The carriage driver snapped impatiently from the front, not bothering to turn around.

The blond Nord snorted in derision and looked back at me with softer eyes. "What's your name kid?"

It took me a while to answer as my brain refused to work faster. "Huh? Oh… I'm Aiaenia."

The Nord nodded. "An Imperial? Either way, my name is Ralof. Where are your parents?"

I let out a light sigh. Though it had been over two hundred years since my father had died it felt like a little more than several months for me which was technically true. "D-Dead."

Ralof bowed his head. "I'm sorry for your loss."

"What's wrong with him?" The horse-thief and my would-be-murderer spoke up suddenly, staring rudely at the older blond Nord beside me. Not able to speak due to the gag the man glared back in indignation. It suddenly clicked in my mind that I had been sleeping on this man's shoulder.

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

I thought Torygg was the High King of Skyrim? That was what Alvethaur had told me anyway. The young man had been young and inexperienced as well as loyal to the Empire but he was a fair enough ruler. Like the rest of the Empire he just had a few problems with the Thalmor.

The horse-thief's eyes went wide. "The Jarl of Windhelm? But… you're the leader of the rebellion. If they're captured you…" he whimpered pathetically, "then where are they taking us?"

Ralof looked away. "I don't know… but, Sovngarde awaits." I felt my heart twinge in sympathy as I was aware that Sovngarde was the Nordic heavens. Being descended from Dragonborns if I led a warrior's life I too would be granted access to Shor's Halls like any true Nord.

"That's Helgen," Ralof spoke suddenly looking into the distance. I too turned my head towards the front of the carriage and saw a small town appearing at the base of the mountain, nestled tightly and fortified by walls. The party approached the town and I couldn't help but gulp at what was to come.

"Shor, Akatosh, Mara, Dibella. Divines, please help me!" I ignored the whimpering thief and turned to Ralof whose face had taken a dark shadow. Unsure of what to do I place my right hand on his bound ones and held it tightly. He looked up in surprise before a sad smile took his face.

"You remind me of my nephew, Frodnar. He's a little younger than you but a spirited lad." He sighed and rested his head back. "Hmm, I wonder how he's doing. He'll be turning ten soon." He looked at me and asked. "If I may... how old are you?"

"Twelve," plus two centuries, but no one needed to know that.

Ralof chuckled. "Not quite a child but neither an adult. To travel on your own if mighty brave of you."

I let out a small laugh. "Yes, my… brother wasn't too thrilled with my decision but he had important business elsewhere."

"Fair enough, not that it's my business anyway."

I let a small silence settle before finally asking. "Why are you prisoners? What did you do wrong?" I had nothing against thieves or assassins personally so it wasn't like I was going to judge him on it.

Ralof looked at me before saying. "You're new to Skyrim aren't you?"

I blinked, wondering why he was asking. "I'm from Cyrodiil so yes I'm am new to Skyrim."

Ralof sighed. "You picked a bad time to come to our homeland."

I tilted my head to the side. "Why?"

"General Tullius, sir! The headsman is waiting." Headsman?! I looked at Ralof in horror and saw a resigned look on his face. I turned to the wagon in front of us – also carrying soldiers dressed similarly to Ralof – and that they too looked stoic. The thief began to panic more and was starting to shift restlessly.

"Good," a grey-haired Imperial dressed in the golden armour of a high ranking officer called out from the front of the procession. "Let's get this over with." He had his horse pull away from the party to meet with an Altmer on a horse with familiarly dressed soldiers standing at attention beside her. Thalmor.

"Look," Ralof spat in disgust. "General Tullius the military governor." A very high ranked officer. "And it looks like the Thalmor are with him. Damn elves, I bet they had something to do with this."

If the Thalmor were involved then something was seriously wrong in Skyrim and it had escaped Alvethaur's notice as he nurtured me back to help. What on Nirn could happen in four months that the Thalmor would be meeting with a General of the Imperial Legion?

We were paraded through the town of Helgen shamelessly. The townsfolk abandoned their daily duties to come to their porches to watch them with a mixture of expressions. Worry, relief, joy and sadness. Eventually we came to a stop in the town's square with a headsman's block waiting in the centre.

"Why are we stopping?" The thief was still panicking, eyes shifting non-stop. He looked on the verge of a total breakdown.

Ralof let his shoulders slump in defeat. "What'd you think? End of the line." The thief's eyes went wide with horror as the situation finally caught up with him.

"Get those prisoners out of the carts!" An Imperial woman called out harshly, dressed in a more decorated outfit.

At a loss to what to do I looked around nervously. I wasn't tied up so I couldn't be a prisoner unless they didn't deem me enough of a threat and incapable of escaping. My steel dagger was no longer on my person so I was defenceless in that sense. Ralof saw me shifting and stood up from his seat.

"Stay close. I don't think the Empire is cowardly enough to execute a child even if they were one of ours." I nodded and stood up with him as we were filed out of the cart one by one. Once off the cart Ralof guided me over to the gagged Nord he had called Ulfric and hid me behind him. Obviously he wasn't so confident in the Empire's morals regarding children. I looked up at him and he smiled grimly before turning his attention back to the Legionnaires. They had lined up in front of them with one holding a list at the ready.

"Empire loves their damned lists," I giggled at Ralof's snarky remark and could feel Ulfric's amusement at the statement as well as his body held repressed chuckles.

"When I call out your name," a Nord soldier with light brown hair called out, holding the list, "step forward and proceed to the block."

The group from the other wagon had joined us so that made about half a dozen prisoners plus myself and the horse thief who was now whimpering like a kicked dog. One by one their names were called out and they marched proudly to their awaiting deaths. True Nords indeed.

"Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm." I felt Ulfric move back slightly forcing me to shadow his footsteps. When he finally moved towards the block Ralof was standing protectively in front of me.

"It has been an honour, Jarl Ulfric." He bowed his head at the passing man who nodded back respectively.

"Ralof of Riverwood," the soldier looked discomforted by the name, but didn't allow his voice to waver in the call.

"Damn," Ralof muttered under his breath, no doubt wary to leave me on my own. While I appreciated the concern I wasn't that helpless.

"Go, Sovngarde awaits." The saying seemed appropriate and sure enough Ralof relaxed and moved forward. The soldier reading the list looked at me in surprise before quickly carrying on with the reading.

"Lokir of Rorikstead."

The thief broke. "NO! I'm not a rebel. You can't do this!" With that he broke into a desperate run towards the exit. "You're not going to kill me!"

"Halt!" The Captain called before ordering. "Archers!"

Now I had seen death plenty of times before, be they bandits or people. I've seen clean, gruesome, natural and crude. But unless you're emotionally stunted you never really get used to seeing someone die. Sure you could hide your feelings but they would always gnaw away at your insides like skeevers.

The arrows, and there was plenty of them, plundered into Lokir's unprotected back before he could even turn the corner. He didn't even have enough time to scream as his body plummeted to the earth in midstride. Out of respect I refused to allow my gaze to be averted. He chose his course and faced the consequences despite the action itself being cowardly.

"Anyone else feel like running?" The Captain shouted out at the remaining prisoners who stared back silently. The Captain looked a little disappointed by the lack of reaction, but gestured for the solider to carry on.

The soldier looked confused as I was the only one left waiting.

The Captain grew impatient when he didn't continue. "Problem soldier?"

The Nord blinked and gestured to me. "It's a child Captain."

The Captain's expression grew irritated. "And?! Send her to the block and be done with it." I gaped at the outburst. It was official, I hated this woman. The soldier spluttered and there was an outbreak of harsh whispers coming from fellow Legionnaires, prisoners and observers alike.

"That's enough Captain Covenna," the aged Imperial – Tullius – marched up to us with his head high. "This girl is not a prisoner of the Legion."

The woman looked confused. "But she was in the prisoner cart, General." She pointed an accusing finger at Ulfric and Ralof. "They were trying to hide her from us. No doubt as to plan their escape."

Ralof let out an outraged. "Are you man woman?!"

"Enough," Tullius ordered before narrowing his eyes at the Captain. "We had no other way of transporting her as she was unconscious when we found her. And while I'm appalled Ulfric would believe me heartless enough as to sentence a child," a snort came from sad man, "I understand his actions regarding the girl. She has nothing to do with the proceedings."

Covenna looked off put by the scolding. "Yes General, understood."

He waved her off. "Back to your post, soldier." She marched away towards the block and Tullius turned his attention to me. "It seems your injuries were not as bad as we feared. I apologise for any misgivings."

I blinked owlishly. "Um… okay?"

Tullius didn't seem perturbed. "Now may I ask your name and origins so we can begin to contact your family? I'm sure they anxious to have you returned home."

I frowned. "My parents are dead. I came to Skyrim with a friend so he could conduct business. I was to wait in Whiterun for his return."

Tullius looked me over. "You're from Cyrodiil?"

Deciding to be honest I said. "County of Kvatch though it has been a while since I actually lived there."

"Kvatch?" Tullius asked, surprised. "Not much left there. I will have a team of my soldiers escort you to Whiterun. I'm sure Jarl Balgruuf would allow my men into his Hold for that much at least. Your name?"

Damn he noticed. "Aiaenia… Rulra." I'm sure Aloynd would allow me to use his family name in this situation. It wouldn't be traced as most history regarding the Oblivion crisis was wiped from the history books according to Alvethaur. Something about the Thalmor claiming rights to the closing of the gates. I had nearly marched on the Imperial City for that alone. "What of my horse?"

Tullius actually looked stumped. "Your horse?"

I nodded slowly. "Yes… the big, snow-white stallion I was riding before I was knocked down? Had all my supplies tied to his saddle?" I paused before adding. "Quite vicious… and has a tendency to bite people other than me?"

"That beast is yours!" A random soldier cried out. I snickered a little and saw some of the prisoners look amused by the outburst. Tullius coughed into his hand before addressing me.

"After we arrived at your location he… ran off."

Chased him off more like. "I guess I'll have to make do with the coin on my person and my dagger…" I looked up at him expectantly and he nodded albeit warily. A soldier came up then and handed the leather sheath containing my steel dagger. It was nothing special to be honest, being one I bought one of my escapades to the Imperial City, but I wasn't about to let them just take my only weapon.

Tullius turned to the solider after he finished handing me my dagger. "Escort Miss Rulra to the Helgen Homestead Inn and have Vilod take care of her." The soldier nodded in understanding and moved to grab my arm but I ducked out of the way and passed the two of them. When the soldier moved to grab me again I moved back.

"I'd like to watch."

Tullius scowled disapprovingly. "An execution is no place for a child."

I stared firmly back and pointed to Lokir's corpse. "And that was? I'm not afraid of death, I seen my fair share." Plus dealt some of my own. When Tullius' look didn't change I added. "It's more out of respect."

That got him. When a child begged to see something some gruesome it was because they wished to be part of the adults or they wanted to see what the fuss was about. To watch an execution was worth so much more than a child's simple pleasure. It was a procession that demanded respect for the soon-to-be deceased despite their transgressions.

"Very well," with that he walked off towards the awaiting prisoners and I let out a sigh. I moved to follow him and stood just outside of the tower shadowing the square, just behind the executioner. I had the perfect view of prisoners. Ralof saw me looking and gave me a warm smile and a respectful bow of the head to which I return sadly. I could have grown to like him.

"Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak," Tullius began, facing the gagged Jarl. "Some here in Helgen call you a hero." There was an awkward shift amongst the watching crowd as the sympathisers fidgeted. "But a true hero doesn't use a power like the Voice to murder his King and usurp his throne."

I straightened my back in shock at that. High King Torygg was dead? I remembered what Lokir had said when he realised Ulfric was amongst the captive. Rebellion he had called it. A rebellion meant a civil war which would explain the Thalmor's presence as well as high-ranked officers of the Legion. Alvethaur was going to flip when he found out. Skyrim had become as dangerous as Cyrodiil – for him at least.

Tullius carried on with his glorified speech. "You started this war! Plunged Skyrim in chaos. And now the Empire is going to put you down and restore the peace." Ulfric grunted beneath his gag, looking angrily at the General. Obviously Tullius was the leader of the Empire's side of the civil war.

An echo.

I looked up in surprise at the odd sound as it echoed off the very mountains surrounding Helgen. The origin must have been very far away for such a long echo to have sounded, but also very loud meaning big.

"What was that?" The soldier who had read the list asked as they had all heard it.

"It's nothing." Tullius dismissed the sound and turned to the Captain. "Carry on."

"Yes, General." She snapped to attention before turning to the Priestess of Arkay beside her. "Give them their last rites."

The priestess moved forward, arms spread wide in a welcoming gesture for the Divines. "As we commend you souls to Aetherius, blessing of the eight Divines be upon you-"

"Nine Divines," I whispered under my breath. Another reason for my almost storming the White-Gold Tower. Talos had created the Empire to begin with and while my family line no longer ruled they still raised our banner in their wars. Honestly both the Thalmor and the Empire should be glad Talos was an Aedra rather than Daedra. If the Divines intervened in mortal affairs more often than we would have had an Aetherius Crisis on our hands which I doubted could so easily be solved as the Oblivion Crisis. Thank Akatosh for small mercies.

"For the love of Talos shut up and let's get this over with." I looked up in surprise to see one of the prisoners stepping forth head held high. He marched over to the block and as the priestess grumbled under her breath and allowed him to face his death. The Captain shoved him onto his knees in front of the block after which she used her boot to force his head onto the block itself.

From my position I could see the man's face perfectly as he faced his executioner with a grim smile. "My ancestors are smiling at me Imperials. Can you say the same?"

No, they could not as my ancestor definitely wasn't smiling at them. The axe came down with a resounding thunk and the Nord's head rolled into the waiting basket, blood spurted from the stump neck like water from a river. The Captain shoved the body off the block and looked up into the watching crowd.

"You Imperial bastards!" One of the female prisoners yelled out in horror.

"Death to the Stormcloaks!" An onlooker called out, though his face showed no trace of happiness, merely grim satisfaction. I myself gave a silent prayer for the dead Nord my expression void and my body firm. Like I had told Tullius I had seen my fair share of death and this was far from the worst I had seen. I shuddered as the shadow of a cottage flashed in my mind and I had to bite down my lip. I couldn't think of that place now. I looked up to see Ralof watching me with a worried expression to which I just gave a brief nod and turned my attention back to the execution.

"You," the Captain pointed at Ralof, "To the block." My eyes immediately went back to Ralof and I saw he had yet to look away from me. His eyes betray his resignation, but his body was prepared. He was ready to great Shor's Hall in all its glory.

My body tensed up as that sound echoed through the air once more. Louder. Clearer. Closer. I felt my hand move to curl around my sheathed dagger and my legs tense to run. This sound… it stirred something deep within me and not in the good way.

"There it is again."

The Captain wasn't happy for the interruption. "I said next prisoner!" Ralof turned his eyes from the sky, moving up to the block and like before the Captain forced him to his knees and finally over the block. Ralof never removed his gaze from mine which to be honest was a little unnerving, but something else was moving me the wrong way. I shifted my gaze to the sky and back to Ralof and I saw his questioning stare bore into mine.

Something was very wrong. I unsheathed my dagger and I saw Ralof's eyes widen at the motion. It seemed though his time was to come to an end as the headsman lifted his axe, ready to bring it down.

A roar. That is what the sound was. And it wasn't one of a sabre cat or a bear. I heard the air being beaten down harshly in a stroke-like motion and the air crackle with power I hadn't felt in two-hundred years.

The power of an immortal being.

"What in Oblivion is that?!" Tullius cried out as a dark shadow ran over Helgen and fall onto the tower with an earth-shattering crash. I stumbled on the shaking ground and looked up at the tower behind me.

"DRAGON!"

Next Time on Revak Dovah Kulaas...

Dragons... Dragons had returned to Skyrim after all these millenia. Alvethaur was going to flip when he found out. Skyrim was dangerous enough as it was without immortal reptiles flying the skies. What I am supposed to do now? I still need to head to Whiterun, but what then? By blood I am Dragonborn. Aren't they supposed to be the only ones who can actually kill a dragon? Talos guide me. Maybe leaving Cyrodiil wasn't the best idea after all.

Thanks for reading. Hope you enjoyed the chapter. It turned out a little longer than I expected and I thought Alduin's arrival was a good place to break up the chapter. Please review as I wish to hear your opinions on the story. I'm on a roll so far, but don't expect an update so soon next time.