The 7,000 steps.

*Crunch*

*Crunch*

*Crunch*

The snow creaked under his feet as he reached each step, the cold slowly seeping to his aching bones.

It had started out easy enough, walking the first stretch of steps, the ground free from snow making the stone steps less slippery and only a light breeze to accompany Skyrim's chill. Klimmek had requested he bring supplies to the monastery, at the top of the mountain. He had agreed, as he was heading that way anyway.

The monastery at the top of the mountain was said to be special, the summons that called out when he walked across the tundra of Whiterun has come from there after all, what was it called again… regardless the trek was far from friendly. Thankfully for him, the wolves near the start of the hike were too distracted by their most recent kill, an unlucky goat, to bother hunting him. He wouldn't be as well off during the hike with several bite marks, he had a limited store of supplies after all.

As he had passed the pine trees that lined the slope of the mountain, the wind had begun to pick up. Not nearly enough to be a hazard, but they brought the unwelcoming chill this strange land was known for. The bitter chill had been a bother since he first washed up on the northern shores of this frozen land. He was surprised that he had survived the ship wreck, let alone the hyperthermia that should have killed him shortly after. He had shook his head in an effort to clear his head of the unpleasant memories that lead him here and treated onwards.

Emblems dotted the trail, each adding to a tale than Gascon had never been told during his childhood, he doubted anyone at home even knew this place existed, let alone its culture and history. Pilgrims journey and rest at them, Barknar, one of these pilgrims Gascon assumed, had informed him as he passed the man on increasingly snowy ground. Apparently, this trail was one often walked. With a final goodbye (and a warning to keep his eyes out for wolves) he continued his trek.

The snowfall upon the ground had also increased during his trek, while it had started out as a lighter frosting upon the cold ground, it increased rapidly as Gascon accented in altitude. And with it, it took much of the plant life, only a few trees and shrubs remained. While not a problem itself for the teen, it was a problem to the local wildlife, namely there not being much prey.

But having hungry predators looking for a meal.

Gascon rubbed his bandaged arm, the sting of the cold worsening the pain he felt from the bite wound, a pair of hungry wolves had ambushed him on the road, unlike the ones near the start of the trail, these had no prey to keep them distracted from the passing teen. Deciding to try their luck they attacked, one landing a lucky bite on his arm, before being quickly dispatched by his dagger. The boy looked down at himself, his arms were not as protected as the rest of him, only his wrists were covered by the fur gloves which provided little in the case of protection and were more for warmth. A necessity even more important in perusing, he had found out in his earlier days of traveling these icy planes and forests. Knowing this he had taken their pelts one they had been put down.

'At least they could be sold' he thought to himself. Huffing in frustration he looked around at the snowdrifts and rock outcropping's, he pulled his fur cloak closer to his shoulders in an attempt to keep the cold at bay and trekked onwards along the winding path. The snow nipped at his heals, being pulled along over the rises by the wind, which had one again grown stronger. The crunching of what was left unmoved by the wind sounded with each footstep, as he approached yet another Emblem shrouded in a small grove of pine trees, which (thankfully to the young man) provided a break in the wind.

Sitting in front of this was another pilgrim, who had little interest in exchanging names ('just a pilgrim, I'd prefer to leave it at that' she had said). Gascon understood, he had little interest in sharing his life story with complete strangers, who was he to judge if someone else held the same preference. He instead turned his attention to the Emblem and what was written upon it.

Kyne called on Paarthurnax, who pitied man

Together they taught men to use the voice

Then Dragon war raged, Dragon against Tongue

He had little knowledge of this country's history, growing up in Hamelin as the son of a Great Sage, he knew of the existence of other continents, and he had questions where this 'Skyrim' and even 'Tamriel' fell on the world map, or if it even did. Surely If this dragon war occurred, then it would have affected more than just this single continent. He had heard of dragons back when he lived in Hamelin, but the people he met here had regarded dragons as mere legend and story's. This was starting to look less and less like uncontacted territory.

'How far from home am I' he pondered, the familiar feeling of loneliness beginning to griped him once again. The pull of home, something hadn't hadn't felt in years, began to tug at him. He felt cold, and he wasn't too sure it was due to the cold.

In an effort to distract himself from the emotion, he looked back at the stone structure, analysing the words written upon it.

'Paarthurnax?' he noticed, the name sounding strange to him, even after he had heard many of the names in this land. He wondered who would have such a name.

After another moment of thought he continued on, biding farewell to the pilgrim who sat stationary in the same spot. Being battered by the wind once again, he made his way to the next set of stone steps, these ones looking sturdier and less worn than the last. Either these are less used, or the cold had preserved them somewhat, he snorted at the thought. The flapping of a flag, trapped within the rocks of a way stone, grew more distant as he ascended once again.

He leaned closely to the rock wall on one side of the narrow path to avoid the steep drop alongside the other side. Pulling a face of discomfort as he imagined the consequences of a single misstep or slip, he continues onwards and upwards. Breaking the top of the rise, he stopped to scout his surroundings. A passageway through two rockfaces stretched from the way stone up ahead to a cave further back. He could not see into its opening, the wind ensuring he remained slightly blind to his surroundings.

Gascon lightly rubbed the bandages on his injured arm, he would need to procced cautiously. Risking another injury was not something he could do, especially if it was more severe. Crouching in an attempt to conceal himself against the surroundings, he moved forwards, the snow still crunching beneath his feet. Reaching a fallen rock, he hid behind it. Stilling his breath for a moment, he looked over its grey surface speckled with snow, only to see a large creature sheltered beneath the rocky outcropping of the cave.

It stood on short legs, its long torso making much it height. Haunching it's back it dragged its knuckles across the snow-covered ground, yet it still stood a head taller than even the largest man. To think, he thought his father looked intimidating when he drew himself to his full height. The grotesque creature opened its mouth in what seemed to be a yawn, displaying rotting teeth… pointed rotten teeth… many pointed rotten teeth. There was no doubt in Gascon's mind that this was a predator. The muscles that protruded from the sturdy bones of the monstrous being before him further proved this, and further worried the former prince, this would not be an easy fight. Especially since it difficult to see his opponent with the snow, and the white fur that covered its grotesque body. The beast sniffed at the air apparently sensing the presence of the small teen.

Ducking quickly back behind the rock, Gascon took a deep breath… several deep breaths, trying to calm his racing nerves. Thinking of his next move he began to understand the danger of the situation he was in. He couldn't sneak past, this creature would spot him immediately, same with escaping with the way he came. Sucking in a shuddering breath he placed his hand over a leather pouch on his waist, feeling it for its contents, he darted his hand inside and pulled out his pistol, the cool of the metal of the gun cooling his shivering hands. Stilling his breath once again, he rifled around in the bag while listening for movement of the increasingly more agitated beast, griping onto two round bullets as the shambling of the monster behind him increased. Sucking from behind the cover of the rocks jagged surface, seeing his target seemingly trying to find the source of the smell. His wound, he realised too late, would likely attract its attention, with the scent of blood still clinging to the cloth that covered it. Loading his gun, he took aim, steadied his breath… and fired.

For a second that seemed to last too long, the creature stood still, then recoiled from the force of impact. Letting out an enraged howl, it turned to the source of the attack, a trail of blood falling from its shoulder, the impact site of the round projectile. Its three beady eyes scouring the blizzard for the assailant, teeth bared in a snarl. A second projectile raced forward with a faint whistling landing itself within one of the eye sockets of the beast. Screeching in rage the creature advanced towards the shaking teen, scattering vibrant blood on the bright snow beneath its feet.

With a whimper of fear the young man backed off, it was shot directly in the skull and still hadn't fallen, swallowing the young man felt his stomach churn. Reaching for a third bullet, he scrambled back abandoning his cover in an attempting to put distance between him and his towering opponent. It, however, advanced at a rate greater than he would have expected, and in his haste to evade the approaching animal, he tripped on the uneven ground, it didn't help that the snow had collected into drifts. Scrambling to get up he realised one thing… he had dropped the bullet. A blinding panic took over his motor functions as the beast let out a deafening growl. It had definitely seen him now.

Desperately, he darted forward while attempting to raise from all fours. His feet scrambled and slipped on the frosted ground, spraying lose snow in all directions and he attempted to flee from this monster. The thudding of heavy of feet on the ground increased and Gascon could swear that the ground begun to shake with them. Turning around to what seemed to be almost certain death. The former prince's eyes widened at the sight, it was much taller than previously anticipated, and rapidly approaching, growling and salivating as it did so. Its remaining two eyes trained on the shuddering teen as it approached. In a moment of free thought, Gascon reached into his pouch and retrieved another bullet. Half blind from tears, he grabbed hold of the item as if it were a sacred artefact. Fumbling to reload his gun, he heard the bellow of the creature as it was nearly upon him, raising its arm back to deliver a lethal blow. In desperation the boy rose his shaking arm and fired the pistol.

It took a moment for time to move again, the beast had stood still, its arm still raised towering over the tiny teen. Then it slowly leaned back, before falling with a thud. Gascon remained where he was, the snow clinging to his coat as he shivered on the spot, tears sliding down the sides of his face, stinging his cheeks as they travelled down. Heart hammering in his chest, Gascon took several shaking breaths, each producing a white puff as they left his body, each resembling a sob as he processed what had just happened. He stayed like that for a moment longer, before slowly moving to stand, testing each limb before putting pressure on it, ensuring it would work. Once he was securely standing, leaning against the rock wall he had unknowingly backed into during the fight, he looked towards the body of the fallen beast. Its snowy fur becoming a sickening crimson, along with the snow beneath it. Looking away while trying not to gag, he noticed a trail of red, leading from the cave… to the body.

Shaking his head and hobbling towards the disturbed mound of snow, he reached down to where he assumed the metal object was hidden, delving his hand into the icy covering on the ground. He retracted his hand, holding the round object between is index finger and his thumb. Heaving a sigh of relief for retrieving the precious object, he rolled it into the palm of his hand. Staring at its smooth surface he pondered its purpose, it was hardly an object that benefitted anyone other than its wielder, no it caused pain and damage to others not in possession of it.

Staring at its smooth surface, the cold began to make its presence known again, and it only got colder as the guilt settled in. he had caused harm to a creature that posed no definite threat to him, simply because he had recognised it a potential threat. Gascon began to feel sick once again, looking back once again at the fallen body, made the guilt only worse. The wolves had attacked first, they had already been a threat when he had killed them, but this creature. In his attempt to avoid another wound, he had killed this beast before it had even shown itself as a threat.

'What… What if it wouldn't have harmed me, an-and I-I just… shot it dead' he realised in dread, shame beginning to take affect alongside the guilt. People here would kill creatures simply for hunting and for being a threat, that was part of life in Skyrim, you either killed or you were killed. But this was beyond that, he didn't even know is the creature posed a threat, what if it were likely Ulk, not violent by nature but large and intimidating all the same. He turned away from the blood-soaked corpse in shame.

The wind whipped at his cheeks and the cold stung his face, despite the guilt that had taken a hold of him from his previous actions, he thought it would be better to get under shelter. Despite not deserving comfort after his previous actions he still moved on. The outcropping of rock that sheltered the fallen creature provided a gloomy, unwelcoming atmosphere, as if the very rock itself refused the teen comfort or hospitality. Stepping inside Gascon released the tears he had held back, but no one would be there to comfort him. His family, miles away, possibly even further, not even knowing if he was alive would not provide him comfort. While he never sought comfort from his father past the age of five, he still drew the warm feeling from his presence in his younger years. And he never cried in front of his brother, he had to act strong for him, he still felt better in his presence.

But now they were gone… no… he was gone, not them. He had left them behind, the same longing that dragged him from them was now trying to pull him back. But it was too late, he couldn't go back home, he was lost.

He couldn't take back leaving, he had already left.

And he couldn't take back firing that first bullet, the creature was already dead.

He couldn't take back the pain he had caused, it was too late.

Feeling the burning shame well up inside him once more, he turned his head to the side, in an effort to avoid the glaring red that stained the snow on the cave floor. Only to freeze in place, he stared, tears slowly falling and drying, not being replaced by others. Dark sockets stared back, unmoving, lifeless. The cold of the snow feeling like a blazing fire in comparison to the chill of what he felt inside. The blazing shame that engulfed him only moments ago lay dead and, in its place, was the cold sharpness of shock.

Staring back at him was a skull… a human skull, several in fact. Their bones scattered behind a dried thicket. The empty shapes within the greying bone bore holes through the former princes own. He turned his head slowly to the blood splattered on the floor of the cave. Its vibrant red seemed to shine more brightly than he last saw it. Gascon slowly felt his guilt be replaced by relief and pride, only a slither of the latter but it was still there. The bones of the fallen were scattered hap-hazardly around the cave, his would have likely joined them had he not acted. The culprit slowly becoming more and more obvious. Gascon looked beyond the mouth of the cave, through the snowfall that seem to be falling even more strongly through the pathway, at the bloodied corpse of the beast. Staring at it, the cave seemed to feel warmer, as if the remains thanked the young man for avenging them against the beast.

Drying his eyes on the back of his sleeves, Gascon pulled his fur cloak around him once more and set off along the frosted trail, battling the cold as he did.

Perhaps he would trust his instincts more often.

Disclaimer: I do not own characters or locations mentioned.

Skyrim belongs to Bethesda and Ni No Kuni belongs to Level 5.