Chapter One
Unbound
The ride in the cart was short as they soon reached a small village surrounded with sturdy looking stone walls and tall towers amidst the houses. But she paid it all little mind.
Instead she busied herself with trying to remember, well, anything. But it was all a blank. A big, dark blank that seemed to stretch for forever in her mind. The initial shock of not knowing her name had worn off, but the terror of not knowing was still in the back of her mind.
What had happened to make her forget? The discovery of a large bump on the back of her head was an indicator that she may have been hit. And judging by the pain still throbbing through her head, it had been a hard blow. Could it have been enough to cause her to lose her memory?
"Get those prisoners out of the carts!" a female voice suddenly shouted.
She looked up at that, noticing that they had stopped.
"Let's go," the blonde man across from her suddenly spoke, giving her a half-hearted smile. "Don't want to keep the gods waiting, now do we?"
A muted nod was all she gave him. How was she to respond to such a thing? It was obvious from his tone that he expected this to be their last day. A sudden shiver passed through her. It seemed such a cruel thing when she couldn't even remember her own name.
She couldn't help but notice how the blonde man looked her over as she stood. Obviously he was not expecting her to look the way she did, her clothes showing off her trim waist and the shape of her legs. She was aware that her hair hung down her back in a thick tangle, some of it falling over her shoulder as she shuffled along to the end of the cart. She would have felt flattered if the situation had not been so dire. Then again, she herself didn't even know what she looked like.
Instead she followed the other two men off the cart.
The man with the thick fur about his shoulders, Ulfric, turned back when his feet hit the ground. He held out his bound hands, steadying her as she got down out of the cart. Her hair swept forward over her shoulder in a thick wave, falling over his arm as he helped her. The scant sunlight glinted off it, making her stare at the dark auburn color that shifted to golden-blonde at the ends. Was that natural?
A soft grunt made her look up at the man who was a good head taller than herself. He was also looking at her hair, brows furrowed as if in deep thought. Then his eyes shifted to hers, the blue-green irises making her catch her breath.
"Kamama!"
The sudden outburst made her jump and pull her hands from Ulfric's much larger and warmer ones. She turned to her left, eyes landing on a girl around her height. The girl was gazing at her intently, tears shining in her blue eyes. Her hair was a bright shade of cerulean that faded to blonde at her roots, making her stand out amongst the rest of the people.
"Are you all right?" the girl asked, shuffling forward. Her hands were bound as well, but that didn't stop her from lightly touching her fingertips to her arm.
She stared long and hard at the blue haired girl, something telling her that she should know her. But she couldn't recall from where. "I'm sorry," she said haltingly, ignoring the seemingly constant pain in her head. "But… do I know you?"
The girl looked shocked, drawing her hands back. "What?" she asked. "How can you not know who I am?"
That was one of many the questions she wanted the answer to. She took in a shaky breath, brows furrowing as she racked her brain for something, anything that would shine some light on all that was happening. But nothing came.
Lightly shaking her head lest she increase her headache, she replied, "I-I don't know. I can't even remember-"
"Step forward when your name is called," someone suddenly called out, drawing the two females' attention to a tall man dressed in light leather armor. In one hand he held a ledger and in the other a thin piece of what looked to be charcoal. "Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm."
The man who had helped her off the cart stepped forward, surprising her. He held a title? She was not sure what a 'jarl' was, but the title rang with such resilient authority it left one wanting to know more about him. At least for her it did.
"Kamama…"
She looked back to the girl beside her, noticing the worried gleam in her eyes.
"It's me. Maurice."
"Ralof of Riverwood."
The blonde man who had spoken to her before stepped forward, taking his place amongst the others already standing about in a rough circle.
"Maurice?" she repeated uncertainly. Why did that name seem so familiar?
"Lokir of Rorikstead."
"You can't do this!" the thief cried as he stepped forward. "I'm not with these Stormcloaks!"
"Shut up!" a woman dressed head to toe in military garb barked at him.
Suddenly the thief jumped at her, knocking her to the ground before he took off at a dead run. "You're not gonna kill me!" he yelled in desperation.
"Archers!" the armored woman shouted as she scrambled to her feet.
The twang of bowstrings could be heard and the thief fell to the ground, two arrows sticking out of his back.
"Anyone else feel like running?"
The two girls stared in disbelief at the scene, Brittany taking in a shuddering breath. They looked to one another again, blue eyes clashing with dark brown.
"Yes," Maurice affirmed, continuing their conversation. She nodded her head somewhat as if to reassure herself. "My name is Maurice." Her cerulean hair shifted somewhat, partially covering one of her eyes. She pushed it back furiously, showing that the side of her head was shaved. "We're… we're friends. Best friends. Have been for a while. How can you not remember that?"
Was that true? They were friends? Why couldn't she remember then?
"And my name is… It's… Kamama?"
"Yes!"
The desperation in the reply made her draw back somewhat.
"You! Standing next to the girl with blue hair!"
She looked back to the man with the ledger, his gazed focused on her.
"Step forward," he said.
With one last look at Maurice, she stepped towards him, stopping just a few feet from the man.
"Who are you?" he asked gently, earning a frown from the armored woman next to him.
"Don't go acting soft just because she's a woman, Hadvar," the woman growled. "She's a criminal, remember?
"A criminal?" Kamama found herself saying indignantly. "On what grounds? Because, honestly, I don't remember anything before waking up in that cart."
The man, Hadvar, looked genuinely surprised by her statement, but the woman snorted.
"As if," the woman went on. "Don't think by playing at amnesia that you'll get off easy. You were caught alongside the Stormcloaks. Guilty by association."
"Association?" Annoyance flared up in her chest, but Kamama did her best to push it down. "Since when is that a valid justification for imprisoning someone? For throwing them on a cart with others to go to an execution?"
She remembered when they first entered the small village, how the thief had lamented his situation, praying to the gods to save him. And the blonde man, Ralof, his embittered utterance of it being 'the end of the line.'
"Enough!" the military woman barked. "Hadvar! Mark her name and send her off!"
Hadvar sighed deeply. "Yes, captain." His dark eyes focused on Kamama once more. "Your name, prisoner?" he said in a deadpan tone.
She almost had half a mind to tell him off, that she wouldn't give her name to someone who obviously saw that she wasn't a part of whatever the Stormcloaks were doing. But after staring at him for a few moments and seeing the genuine regret there, she relented.
"I… I think it's… Kamama."
His eyes immediately went to his list whilst the captain huffed and crossed her arms.
"So you claim you can't remember anything and yet you still give us a name."
"Only because I told her it!"
Maurice had stalked up then, standing next to Kamama and glaring defiantly at the armored woman. The captain's hand immediately went to the sword at her hip.
"And my name is Maurice," the cerulean haired girl added, glancing at Hadvar. "Though I don't know why it should even matter."
"Watch your tongue, prisoner!" the captain snarled. "Another word and you'll be the first to lose your head!"
"Captain," Hadvar interrupted, eyes shifting from the ledger, to Karessa and then to the military woman. "They're not on the list. What do we do?"
"Forget the list!" she snapped. "They both go to the block!"
"Why you-"
Kamama put out her bound hands, stopping Maurice from going after the woman. "Leave her be. She's obviously either on a power trip or it's that time of the month. Well, maybe both."
Maurice sniggered at that, but still glared at the woman heatedly. She followed after Kamama as they made their way to the other prisoners standing in a rough circle around the base of a tower. Situated in front of it were a few soldiers, a woman in yellow robes, and what was obviously their executioner with his axe at the ready.
"Ulfric Stormcloak."
The two women looked to the man who had spoken, his military garb finer than the rest. His age was apparent what with his short cropped grey hair and the subtle age lines on his face. He stood facing the man with the gag about his mouth, a condescending frown on his lips.
"There are some here in Helgen who call you a hero," the man went on, crossing his arms over his armored chest. "But a hero wouldn't use a power such as the Voice to murder his king and usurp his throne."
"What?" Maurice breathed next to her.
Ulfric made a sound of indignation, shifting slightly where he stood.
"You started this war, plunged Skyrim into chaos and now the Empire is going to put you down and restore the peace!"
A sudden sound echoed from afar, but it was enough to make many look about in confusion.
"What was that?" one of the soldiers asked.
"Nothing," the man who was obviously in charge replied, though his eyes still scanned the skies. "Carry on."
"Yes, General Tullius!" the female captain saluted and turned towards the yellow clad woman. "Read them their last rites."
The robed woman nodded, stepping forward with her arms outstretched. "As we commend your souls to Aetherius, blessings of the Eight Divines-"
"For the love of Talos, shut up already!" one of the Stormcloak soldiers barked as he stepped forward. "Let's get this over with! I haven't got all morning!"
"As you wish," the woman huffed, clearly affronted by his interruption.
Kamama smiled at the display, respect for the man facing his death so fearlessly swelling up in her breast.
The Stormcloak now stood at the block, a satisfied smile on his face as he looked around at his captors. "My ancestors are smiling down on me," he said defiantly as he knelt, resting his head on the chopping block. "Can you Imperials say the same?"
Maurice looked away as the headsman let his axe fall, but Kamama kept her eyes forward, watching as the man's head was cut from his body. A bright gush of blood washed over the wooden block, staining it and the dirt around it.
"You Imperial bastards!" a woman cried.
"Justice!" yelled a man.
"As fearless in death as he was in life," Ralof lamented proudly from his spot next to the two women.
Kamama turned her head towards him, but her eyes immediately locked onto Ulfric's who was staring at her. His intense gaze held her and it seemed as if he wanted to say something, but what that could be she couldn't possibly fathom. Why would he be looking at her? Maybe it was just a coincidence, the both of them looking to Ralof at the same time and their eyes meeting.
"Next prisoner!" the captain yelled. Her gaze fell on Kamama and she pointed at her. "That one! The woman who claims to have amnesia!"
The sound from before came again, sounding more like a roar and closer this time.
"There it is again," Hadvar breathed, his eyes searching the skies.
"I said next prisoner!" the captain growled.
"We didn't do anything!" Maurice suddenly shouted, taking a step forward. "This isn't fair! And you know it!"
The captain drew her sword. "Shut up!"
"Easy there, Maurice," Kamama found herself saying as she slowly tore her gaze away from the Jarl of Windhelm.
"But Kamama-"
She smiled at the girl, catching her off guard. "It's all right," she said lightly. "Besides, life isn't always fair. Maybe it's for the best what with me not remembering anything." She took a few steps forward. Then she laughed lightly, though her eyes began to burn with tears. "Thanks for at least giving me back my name… and for telling me that we're… friends."
"Kamama…"
Silently she walked up to the block, eyes skimming over the decapitated Stormcloak they had carelessly pushed off to the side. She felt the female captain push at her shoulder, forcing her to her knees before planting a foot in her back. A soft grunt escaped her lips when her cheek forcefully met the chopping block, still slightly warm from the fresh blood on it.
Was it really a blessing that she couldn't remember anything? What if she had a family somewhere, loved ones who were wondering where she was and if she was all right?
She could hear a sound, like a soft sob, from where Maurice and the other prisoners stood, but her face was turned towards the stone tower and the man standing there.
Her heart began to beat wildly as she watched the headsman ready his axe. He seemed almost eager to carry on with his task, a twisted smile on his lips which was all she could see due to the mask he wore.
And then she saw it.
"What in Oblivion is that?!"
Kamama's mouth opened in awe and horror as she watched the pitch-black creature swoop down on the village. It landed heavily on top of the tower, the stone structure shuddering under its weight and making the ground shake. The headsman lost his balance, dropping his axe as he fell to the ground. He looked over his shoulder and balked at the sight of the creature, scrambling to his feet before running away.
"Dragon!" a woman screamed over the shouts of the Imperials and the panicked cries of the villagers.
It suddenly opened its maw, razor sharp teeth revealed as it let out a terrible shout. The skies dimmed, tinged with red as fire began to rain down on the village.
Kamama stayed where she was, slowly lifting her head from the block, gazing wide eyed at the dragon perched atop the tower. It seemed to glare back at her, its red eyes glowing with unchecked malice. Once again its jaws opened and another shout emitted from it, and Kamama took in a breath before it hit her full force, knocking her back.
The back of her skull hit the ground, causing her head to burst with renewed pain and dizziness, and she couldn't keep the agonized cry from leaving her lips. Images swam in her vision, bizarre things that she felt were familiar but she couldn't place them. She thought she saw Maurice with her cerulean hair and blue eyes standing behind what looked like a counter of sorts, but the pain kept her from focusing.
Hands were suddenly on her, gripping her arms and hauling her to her feet.
"Come on!" the person shouted, unaware of the effect his loud voice had on her pain filled head. "This is our chance! Let's go!"
She allowed the man to pull her forward, her steps hurried and uncertain. All around them were screams and shouts, the dragon roaring overhead as they made their way through the village.
"Get inside!"
She was roughly pushed, careening forward into what she assumed to be a table. The pain of her hips hitting the wood brought her out of her throbbing head, and she did her best to shake off the whirlwind of images.
"By the Nine!" she heard someone say breathlessly. "Was that really a dragon? Like in the old legends?"
"Legends don't burn down villages."
A chill went up her spine at the sound of the second voice, and Kamama looked over her shoulder. Ulfric was standing beside the now barred door, his hands unbound, and the gag gone from his mouth, showing his strong features and the well-trimmed beard he possessed. His eyes shifted to her when he noticed her staring, and that same intense look from before came back, his brows furrowing slightly.
A loud roar echoed outside, the stone structure around them trembling.
"We need to move now!" Ulfric suddenly yelled.
"This way!" Ralof called to her and she stared at him indignantly.
She took a few steps toward him though, lifting her still bound wrists. "Could you cut me loose first?" she asked. "It would be so much easier to run for my life if I wasn't still–aie!"
The structure shook once again, Ralof catching her arm when she stumbled forward.
"Nevermind. Let's go."