Chapter 7: The Rift
"Where are you headed?"
"To Riften."
"That'll be twenty gold pieces."
I rummaged through my satchel and was able to find the needed amount of gold. I passed it up to the carriage driver, who was sitting lazily on the driver's seat. His horse was just as energetic as him; its head was down, nostrils on the ground, and its tail sunk like a sad little dog. I could tell this man did not have passengers for quite some time. After fingering and mentally computing the coins, he gave a slow nod. He looked at me and said. "Name's Bjorlam. I'll be your driver for the day. Thank you for choosing the carriage; it's the safest way to get around Skyrim!"
The Nord hopped off the driver's seat to help pack the satchel into the carriage. He then bent down behind the cart to check on its back step and tail board. The blonde man secured all of his belongings to the side of the cart. After, he filled a pail with water and splashed his horse with it. The mare got up in a startle. Its front hooves drummed the ground, and its tail whipped around. The horse's nostrils drew white clouds as it released a jet of air. "Okay, hop on," he said.
I mounted the carriage, silent. The coach took out a whip from under his chair and beat the horse's ass. The mare neighed, and started off in a quick gallop. The carriage pulled forward, and in no time we began to move at full pace. The city of Whiterun behind us drew farther and farther away from sight. The plains that stretched out endlessly began to get swallowed by large conifers. We passed through the eastward pass, taking the highroad from Whiterun and into the hold of the Rift.
"How far is Riften from here?" I asked, edging closer to the coach so he could hear me speak.
"It's a full two days from here using the carriage. Is it your first time in Skyrim? Heh, you don't have to answer. I can tell by the looks of you. I've been all around Skyrim, transporting people all the way from Solitude to Riften. I brave even the coldest of weathers, like in Winterhold. Why, I've even been attacked by some thieves before, but they couldn't take me on!" Bjorlam bragged.
"That happened to my family before," I told the coach. "We were on our way to deliver some weapons Elinhir in Hammerfell, when some thieves attacked our caravan. They stole most of our goods, but luckily none of us were hurt."
"Ah, but enough about Bjorlam. I'll tell you more about the province of Skyrim, the land of the Nord. See that mountain over there? That's the Throat of the World, tallest in Tamriel. The Ancient monastery of High Hrothgar sits almost at the top. There the ancient Greybeards spend their days meditating on gods-know-what. Masters of the Voice, they are."
The carriage sharply curved right as we reached a junction. We followed the road as it dipped down a mountain path. The bumpy road made the vehicle quiver. Bjorlam's horse picked up its pace as it led us down the slope. We kept close to the mountain face, traveling down the highroad. In the distance I could see the misty mountains, and far well off as the icy, northern sea. I could see a large, walled city by its shore. "That's Windhelm," Bjorlam told me. "City of Ulfric Stormcloak, leader of the rebellion. So far the Empire and the Stormcloaks have been fighting over cities in Skyrim. Jarls have sworn fealty to their own high kings, and the two opposing forces have been grabbing territories. Honestly, I never wanted to stick my ass into those things. I'm happy enough with a belly full of mead and a nice travel across the province."
"What do the Stormcloaks have against the Empire, anyway?" I hung my head.
"The Stormcloaks want to protect their way of life, that's what," Bjorlam said, turning his head back at me as he blindly steered the carriage. "The Empire forbade the worship of the Hero-God Talos after the White-Gold Concordat. That's what brought the Stormcloaks to Skyrim, and this is where the civil war's most felt."
"I see…"
The sun was now hanging over the horizon. The sky had turned a vivid yellow-orange. Streaks of red and violet painted the heavens, and over at the far end, a deep blue started to creep onto the pallet. It was a beautiful sight. The trees casted long shadows over the forest path. We followed a bend down the road, and found ourselves crossing paths with a majestic waterfall. The water raged incessantly, pouring down from a rock face and hitting a fjord below it. Serene was the only word that could describe it.
"We're half-way there," said the coach. "You better get some sleep. There's a bed roll under your seat, you could spread it out on the bench. Don't worry. Old Bjorlam's gonna take care of the rest of the ride." The muffled gallop of the horse as it tread upon the earth seemed to melt along with the sound of birds, and the gush of water. The cold air seemed to become cooler with each revolution of the spokes.
Sleep. That was something I haven't done quite some time. I bent downwards and pulled out the thick bed roll and unfurled it. The heavily padded thing hit the base of the cart with a thud. After heaving it up with some of my strength, I spread it across my bench, trying to keep my standing balance as the carriage continued down the trail. The cart hit a rock and it hopped a few inches of the ground. "Oomph!" I fumbled sideways, grabbing at the railings of the vehicle before I completely stumbled over. Bjorlam looked back and gave a good laugh. I spread myself across the bench and closed my eyes. The sounds of the forest slowly faded into a dream.
"Listen to me, Solir. Hold the sword tightly at its grip, like this," my father demonstrated, putting his free hand on my sword's hilt. "Remember, the sword is an extension of your hand. It's not just a bar of cold steel. And using your sword, you must strike your opponent strong and steady in order to knock them down. Here, you try it on my. Swing your blade and hit mine."
The man took his position, and tossed the sword over to me. Stumbling forward, I managed to catch the weapon by its pommel. And that in itself was already very frightening.
"But father, I don't want to fight. I don't want to get hurt," I told him, sobbing.
"Learn how to defend yourself. The best offense is a good defense. If someone attacks you, you have to be prepared. You have to keep yourself alive. The only way to do so is by wielding a sword. Thank the Divines for giving us hands, Solir. Our hands are the only things keeping us alive. Without them, I couldn't smith these fine armaments; neither could I have worked my way from poverty as a child. These hands have touched the finest gold and moonstone ore, diamonds and other gems, crafted them into jewelry more beautifully made by any Imperial blacksmith! Now come at me, child. Show me how skilled your hands are!"
Whooshhhhhhhhh! I was awakened by a terrifying sound. The carriage rocked under me, as I rolled off the bench and hit the base of the cart hard. It was terribly dark, and we were moving at an amazing speed. The wind was hissing at my ears. I scrambled up to my knees, and looked around aimlessly. I couldn't see anything beyond the vehicle. Bjorlam was at the reigns, hitting the horse hard on its hind with his whip. "Hiyaa!" he cried. "Faster, fool of a horse!"
"What's happening?" I asked, terrified.
"There's something over the trees! It's following us!" the coach replied, looking up at the skies. The heavens bore no stars that night. Even the moon herself was hiding in fear. As a terrible roar cut through the frigid air, my heart stopped. It was the silver dragon. It had come back to hunt me down.
"It's a dragon!" I cried, as the cart sped across the darkness. "It's the same one from Helgen!"
"What?" Bjorlam spat. The horse continued to dash uncontrollably into the night, the cart behind it being tossed around in its place like a banner in the wind.
"Fo Krah Diin!" A loud, resonating shout shattered the air around it. A silver-blue streak shot out of the shadowy forest to our right. A great, winged figure emerged out of the head of trees. It was a dragon, just as I had predicted, but it was not the great silver one. It was another dragon, who breathed ice instead of fire.
"Watch out!" I exclaimed, as the silver ray made its ran towards the carriage. Bjorlam steered the horse sharply right. The carriage shaft snapped off from the horse. The stallion neighed fearfully, getting up on two legs and kicking the air in front of it. The cart tipped over and rolled, both of us still on it. It tumbled down a few meters down the slope. There was a sharp blow to my back, and then my head, and then the world started to spin. When the carriage finally stopped, I crawled out from the turned-over cart, seeing blood and bruised all over my arms.
"Take this, you damned dragon!" a voice yelled from behind me. I got out and leapt to my feet, still feeling nauseous. Bjorlam was fighting off the dragon alone, a bow in his hands and a quiver to his back. The carriage driver drew his bow and aimed for the flying beast. The arrow shot through the air and bit into the dragon's neck. The beast beat it wings and took off into the sky, circling high over the high road.
"Fo Krah Diin!" Shouted the dragon. A blast of frost slammed into Bjorlam. He fell to the ground, the ice crawling up his body and nipping at his skin like millions of tiny, silver leeches.
The dragon turned around, its wings changing angulations to catch the wind. The silver streak drew a curve of the ground, and caught up to me. The ice breath bit into my foot, and I fell to the ground in pain, as the freezing deluge battered me. I tried to move, but the dragon's shout had rendered me almost solid. Struggling to get back into the cart, I grabbed at the air in front of me. My limbs moved slowly, unresponsive. I watched as the frost dragon pushed up to the sky, hovering meters above the ground. The glowing ice started to melt off my body, and the numbness faded away. I immediately took off to the cart and hid under it, patting the ground, feeling for Ralof's hunting bow.
"You'll be needing it in case anymore dragons swoop down. Also, it's good for keeping you safe from any thieves or highroad bandits."
I emerged from the cart with the soldier's hunting bow. I drew the bowstring to a full length, an arrow rested on my grip. I aimed at the sky, waiting for the frost dragon to advance towards me. And hark, he came! On great wings he soared through the night, a bloodied flying beast with arrows sticking out from its body! My limbs quivered as it held the drawn bow. The arrow shivered in fear. A few moments later the dragon suspended itself in mid-air, beating its wings against the ground. The sound was like a great battle drum.
It opened its mouth wide, and with great force, it shouted. "Fo Krah—"
I released the string. And with the blink of an eye the arrow cut through the air at a terrible speed, entering the jaws of the dragon. I saw the silver climb up its throat, but it was suddenly lost as the projectile pierced through the foe's head. It ripped through the skin, and passed through the bone, and emerged from the top of its skull like the tip of a pike. The dragon gave one last dying roar before it spiraled down from the sky and crashed into the ground with a tremendous force.
I ran to Bjorlam, who was still on the ground. The ice had frozen his body solid. His skin was a pale and splotched with dark purple bruises, and his face suspended in a horrified look. I tried to shake him, but he didn't respond. His ear suddenly cracked off his head. I fell back, startled. "No…" I said, my voice shaking. He was dead. Dead and frozen. Getting up, I raced back to the cart. The sac with the Black-Briar's items was still perfectly intact. I pulled it out from under the cart, and let it hang over my shoulder.
I slowly walked over to the dead dragon, and watched it as its body slumped to the ground. Then, something amazing happened. The dragon's skin began to dissolve and burn, like when you put paper into a fire. Little embers started to dance and flutter into the sky. I dropped the sac in fear. Lights started to come out of the dead dragon corpse. Rays of brilliant, golden light struck me. There was a sudden, sucking noise. The lights entered me, and my body began to burn. But I was not on fire. What was happening to me. I was motionless as the lights continued to enter me. I was both amazed and astounded. When the lights finally dimmed away, I fell to my knees, overwhelmed by the event that took over my senses.
Light rain started to pour. There was the muffled sound of thunder in the distance. I looked around me, seeing the highroad was a complete wreck. I grabbed the apothecary sac and started to run.