I am Dragonborn

by vincentj10

Jerien has been sheltered by her mother all her life and has finally escaped from under her mother's thumb. She has fled from Cyrodiil to Skyrim to finally gain her independence and find out who she really is. Little does she know that her decision will save Skyrim from total destruction and possibly all of Tamirel as well.

I am Dragonborn:

Chapter 1:

"Hey you, you're finally awake." The voice she heard sounded like it was in a barrel. Her body felt cramped and bruised. Her head ached and pounded. Or maybe she was the one in the barrel. Maybe she drank the barrel of ale before she fell in it. "Wake up" the voice said again, "We're almost there."

"Wha….what?" she asked. The Nord female groaned as she tried to lift her head up. She finally opened one eye with great effort. She was lying at the feet of four men on the dirty floor of a creaky wagon. She tried to push herself up but was unable to, because her hands were tied behind her back. After a couple minutes of trying, she pushed her way to a sitting position then up to the damp rotted bench.

"The guards did a number on you didn't they?" The same voice asked her. "You've got quite a goose egg there." It came from a man that looked not much older than she, with similar features. Blonde hair hanging loose except for two braids keeping his thick locks out of his face. Fair skinned, high cheek bones and full lips. His eyes matched the color of the sky behind him. He could even be considered handsome if he were cleaned up and in clothing that wasn't blood stained.

"Uh, yeah, I um, …tried to borrow a horse from the Captain of the Guard. He, uh, he forgot he loaned it to me." She said.

"Borrowed, huh huh huh, I like that. Sounds credible." The man joked, "I can't see any reason why they didn't believe you." He said as he gestured to her tattered clothing.

"Keep it down back there, no talking!" The guard from the front bench growled.

She narrowed her eyes as she stared at the man. The last thing she needed right now was to be reminded of her stupid mistake. She wouldn't have made that huge of an error if those strange men at the tavern hadn't been asking around for her. She had foolishly hoped that Mother had stopped looking for her at the border of Cyrrodiil. She was beginning to realize Mothers' reach was much farther than she ever imagined.

"I'm sorry Lass, the gallows humor is getting to me." The man apologized.

"G-g-gallows? She stammered. "As in, hanging?"

"Oh no, the Imperials don't believe in something as barbaric as hanging a man. Nay, we're headed to Helgen to meet with the headsman's axe. They want to make the death of Ulfric Stormcloak a quick one instead of a great spectacle. I'm surprised they're not hauling us all the way to Solitude so the Lady Elisef can witness the death of her husbands' killer herself."

"What makes your death so special?" She asked.

"Oh, no, no, no, no. I'm not Ulfric. He's Ulfric." The man nodded towards the large, hairy, burly man sitting an empty seat away to her right. He sat there stoically and looking as if in deep thought. His hair seemed to have every color of the sun in it: auburn, orange, yellow, white. He had a hard face that was chiseled from stone with sharp angles and a strong, stout chin. His nose looked like a hawk's beak. His armor had a more regal look to it than the other men in the wagon but it was just as bloody and battle scarred. It struck her as odd that although everyone in the wagon had their hands bound, he was the only one that was tightly gagged. "He's the Jarl of Windhelm, the leader of the Stormcloaks, Skyrim's protector and True High King!"

"Apparently you Stormcloaks are deaf as well as dumb!" The guard yelled as he cracked his whip at the prisoners. She flinched as the whip caught just below her left eye. Tears instantly sprung to her eyes, but she made no sound. "No more talking or there'll be nothing left of you to hang!"

"Well then, I must be on the wrong carriage. I thought I had a date with a headsman." The Norseman lightheartedly said, "If you would just kindly drop me off so I can be on my way, I'll…" he was cut short as a soldier riding by struck him in the back of the head with his iron gauntlet. "In the mood for jokes, eh? We'll see if we can change your attitude!" The guard said as he cocked his arm back for another blow.

"Soldier! Stay your hand!" A female Imperial soldier yelled as she rode up. Both men froze as she stopped in front of the wagon. She had the look of a woman who was used to total control. Her short brown hair matched her eyes as did her brown leather and steel armor. Her thin lips were in a sneer as she yelled at the driver of the wagon. "You're late Sergeant." She said as she gave him a hard look. "Instead of harassing your prisoners you should be making your way to Helgen as ordered."

"But Legate Rikka, I was only…" He stammered.

"But what Sergeant? You're behind enough without any more weak excuses. Move on!" She stared at him, looking down her long narrow nose, daring him to continue talking.

"Yes, Legate." He said has he tucked his whip, and his tail, under the bench as he sat back down. He slapped the reigns harder than he needed to and the wagon surged forward. All of the captives were pushed to the back of the cart. The female Nord was tossed about and ended up with her injured cheek smashed against Ulfric's bearded one. She gasped as she stared into his steel blue eyes. Her cheek stung as the gash separated more, but that was not the reason she was startled. It was the look in the man's eyes. They were not of a condemned man that saw the last minutes of his life ticking away in front of him. No, these eyes belonged to a man who was still full of fire. A man who would fight until he drew his last breath. A man still so full of power that it radiated off him in waves.

She pushed herself upright and scooted back further than her previous spot on the bench, trying to make the gap between them as wide as possible. She started down at her rough worn boots and tried to ignore the fact that Ulfric's gaze was still upon her.

"That cut's going to make a right nice scar under your eye, Lass." The friendly male Nord whispered, gesturing towards her now profusely bleeding cut. The warm blood was dripping down her face onto her torn and dirty leggings.

"Yeah it sure is." Another Norseman said, "But her face is going to heal just fine after her head's been hacked off of her body, won't it?" The man was older than the rest of the prisoners in the wagon. He looked as crude as his words. Dirty brown hair stuck out at odd angles despite being in multiple braids. His nose was large and crooked, having been broken too many times to count. It was impossible to tell which teeth had been filed to a point and which had been broken in past fights. His brown and blue armor had once been clean ages ago, but were now torn and stained with sweat, blood and gods knew what else. He was shorter than the rest of them but heavily muscled and it was obvious that he favored a heavy battle axe as a weapon rather than a dainty bow or dagger. He had his own collection of facial scars that marred his left eye, cheek and jaw line. Most of his left ear seemed to be missing.

"That's enough Haldred." Her new friend interjected.

"I'm just speaking the truth. No sense in giving her false hope. She's never going to have to worry about a scar on that pretty face. None of us are going to walk away from this. Accept your fate and make peace with the Nine now." Haldred said.

His words hung in the air between the prisoners as they moved through the gates of Helgen. He had achieved in ten seconds what the imperial guard failed to do. No one spoke, dead silence prevailed. The young female fell deep into her own thoughts. 'Mother was right. After all this, everything I've tried to do is now in vain. I'm going to be beheaded and buried in a mass grave with strangers in a strange land. I've failed. I should have stayed in Cyrrodill, safe and warm in my bed. I should have listened to her when she said that there was nothing out there but pain and suffering and death.'

The creaking and groaning of the wagon was the only sound as they wove their way through Helgen. Sitting on the porch of a wooden house was a young Nord boy with light brown hair. He pointed at the caravan of prisoners as they crept by.

"Is that him Papa? Is that the man that yelled at the King and killed him?" the boy excitedly asked.

"Tordon, go inside son." The boys' father said.

"But Papa, I want to see the soldiers. I want to…" the boy protested as his father raised his voice. "Go Now! Mind me boy!" he said. The boy took one last look at the Stormcloak leader and walked inside the house, peaking out the door until his father roughly shut it. The boys' father looked at the captives in the wagon with contempt. He spit in the direction of Ulfric Stormcloak but said nothing.

After what seemed like forever, but all too soon to the Nord female, the wagon reached its destination and stopped with a final groan. No one moved for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, Ulfric Stormcloak stood and faced the group of huddled soldiers and lone horse thief. He looked each one in the eyes and held their gaze. He gave a quick nod and jumped down off the wagon.

"Ulfric Stormcloak!" an impeccably dressed Imperial soldier yelled. "Step forward!"

Ulfric stepped forward while the rest of the huddled prisoners watched from the wagon.

The Imperial female they called Legate Rikka spoke up so all could hear her. "Ulfric Stormcloak, you have been charged with high treason and crimes against Skyrim and her people. You have been condemned to death." She said with a sneer.

Ulfric stared at the woman and met her gaze with such intensity that everyone could feel sparks pass between them. No one dared to breathe while the standoff took place. Finally, Ulfric raised his chin and walked towards the block.

"Ralof of Riverwood!" The male Imperial soldier yelled, breaking the spell that all were under.

"That's me." Her friend from the wagon said to her as he stepped to the end of the cart and jumped down. "Nice to see you again Hadvar. Tell my sister what you've done the next time you're in town will you?" He said to the soldier as he walked by him and stood by Ulfric.

She could tell his words ruffled the soldier that held the list of names, but only for a moment. "Haldred of Rorikstead!" "Balimont of Windhelm!" "Surgont of Whiterun!" He read the names as they were listed on his paper and put a neat check mark beside each one. Until he came to the young Nord female and there were no more names to yell. "Liggate Rikka!" he said. "She is not on my list."

The Imperial woman walked over and took the list from the soldier. She quickly scanned the names and check marks and then looked the Nord female up and down before she spoke. "Forget the list, she goes to the block with the rest of them." she said as she handed the paper back to the young officer.

The Nord woman's jaw dropped as she heard the Legates' words. She looked at the man who had the list in his hands and he gave her an apologetic look. He didn't have the hard stare of the other guards. His green eyes were soft and kind. His light brown hair was shorter than the others and looked freshly cut. The armor that he wore was clean and oiled with no stains or marks from previous battles. He seemed to be genuinely remorseful when he said, "I'm sorry." She could tell that he didn't like order he was just given. "Who are you, what's your name?" he said as he lifted the writing utensil to his list.

It took a minute to find her voice. She cleared her throat and said, "Jerien…Jerien Amontè of Cyrrodill." She had never used Mothers' true surname before. It seemed fitting to finally claim it now. "My moth….my family lives in Anvil."

"You're a long way from home Jerien. I will see to it that your remains get returned to your kin."

Tears sprung again to her eyes but she followed in Ulfric's lead and lifted her head up high and walked over to the end of the line with the other condemned.

An acolyte in a robe of one of the divines stepped forward. "Blessings of the Eight upon you" she said as she raised her hands. "As you travel into the beyond, you will be welcomed into the arms of the Divines. Let us give thanks to…"

"Oh, enough of this!" a gruff voice interrupted the carefully prepared speech of the priestess. "Talos is rolling over in his grave with this dribble! Let's get it over with!" Haldred pushed his way through the line of Stormcloak soldiers in front of him. "It was an honor to fight with you, Jarl Ulfric." He said has he walked by the stoic leader. He marched proudly over to the headsman's block and kneeled down. "Sovanguarde awaits me. My ancestors will welcome me with open arms for what I've done. Can you say the same, Imperial scum?" He sneered at the soldiers on each side of him. He placed his head down on the block and closed his eyes. They could see his lips moving and they wondered what he was saying in his final moments.

A faraway roar made the arms of the headsman stop halfway up. He began to lower his giant axe and look at Legate Rikke. He seemed unsure on what to do next. The sound was unfamiliar to him.

Rikka had never heard the sound either, but was not going to let on that she was rattled like the rest of them. "Get on with it!" She yelled.

The headsman nodded at her and raised his axe again. A moment later, the deed was done. The extreme sharpness of his blade met no resistance as it separated Haldred's head from his body with a sickening 'Schrick!' Haldred's body went slack and fell over as his head bounced and rolled all the way to Jerien's feet. She saw that his mouth was still moving, still whispering its silent prayer. "As fearless in death as he was in life" said one of the prisoners still waiting in line.

"I guess that means you're next." Legate Rikka said. Jerien's head snapped up and she realized that the Legate was speaking to her. The smile on the woman's face made her blood run cold. 'She's actually enjoying this!' Jerien thought. 'She's getting some sick pleasure from being a part of all this! She wants to see us scared and quaking in our boots!' She took a deep breath. 'She'll get no fear from me.'

Jerien did her best impersonation of Haldred's bravado as she could. Her mind was racing, trying to think of an escape plan, but was coming up blank. She knew if she ran, she would not get far before an archer put an arrow in her back. She reached the block now sticky with Haldreds' coagulating blood. The unfamiliar roar they hear a minute ago broke her concentration. It was louder than before, it sounded closer.

The prisoners and the soldiers began to look around, unsure where the sound was coming from and what was making it. "Continue!" Legate Rikka yelled as she kicked the headless corpse away from the block.

Jerien kneeled in the space now vacated by Haldreds body. She closed her eyes for a moment and wondered if her mother would be able to tell that she was dead. Would it feel like a string being cut when Jeriens head was removed? Would her mother clutch at her heart and feel like it had been sliced in half? Will she cry at the loss of her only child, of the loss of part of her own soul? Or will Mother finally be whole again and find the peace she has so longed for? Jerien opened her eyes. It was time to find out.

Apparently she was taking too long and felt the hard heel of Legate Rikka's boot shoving her down, pinning her to the block.

"Hey!" Jerien heard Ralof's voice yell at Legate Rikka as she twisted her boot in the Nord's back. She knelt down and whispered in Jeriens ear, "Awwww, can you hear your little sweetheart trying to stick up for you?" She clicked her tongue and shook her head. "Too bad your honeymoon is being cut short. Don't worry though, he'll be right behind you."

Jerien would have been furious at the Legate's taunts, but she was focused on the giant black wings that were coming directly towards them. Legate Rikka couldn't understand the look of complete shock on the prisoners face because her back was towards the small turret that the giant winged creature gracefully landed on.

"DRAGON!" someone yelled as the monster gave a deafening roar. Jerien felt the ground shake as the creatures' bellow filled the air. Everyone near the tower was blown back by the force of it. For a moment, she thought she heard someone yelling. It was a language that she had never heard before, but yet, could almost understand it.

Around her, everything erupted into chaos. Prisoners rushed every which way. A few guards ran in circles trying to recapture the fleeing men. Those who still had their bearings were scattering themselves, trying to avoid the searing hot flames that were now coming from the dragon's maw. Jerien was able to sit up now that the Legate's boot was no longer holding her down. She saw the woman lying on her back a few feet away, seemingly unconscious. A dangerous thought ran through the Nord woman's head. The captains' sword was unsheathed and lying tantalizingly within her reach. She began to lean towards the weapon when someone tackled her, pinning her to the ground.

A heartbeat later, a stream of liquid fire enveloped the air where Jerien's body once was. Hadvar was on top of her, inadvertently restraining her form reaching for the Legate's sword. As soon as the breath of fire abated, Hadvar jumped up and dragged Jerien like a rag doll to a stone barrier behind the turret. The Nord woman had no choice but to allow herself to be led away from the precious weapon.

"Stay here!" Hadvar yelled at her as he ran back to where the Legate's body still lay. Had he not saved the prisoner first he would have been able to reach Legate Rikka in time. A split second before he was able to grab the unconscious captain, the dragon spewed another fiery stream of hell. It hit the left side of the Imperial woman's body and she erupted in flames. Jerien felt no pity as the Legate's screams filled the air. The woman jumped up as if being pulled on a string and ran towards where the Nord was hunkered down. Legate Rikka wasn't concerned with the female prisoner, only the horse trough that was a few feet behind her. The two women locked eyes as the Legate ran past. The hatred that had sparked between them was palpable. If Legate Rikka still had her sword in her hand, she would have run Jerien through before submerging herself in the cool water. As luck would have it, it was safely in Hadvar's hands. By the time Rikka came up for air to look for her new enemy, Jerien was gone.

Chapter 2:

The Nord female didn't wait to see if the Legate survived her fiery bath. As soon as the woman dove into the water, the winged devil took flight and began to terrorize another area of the town. Jerien saw this as an opportune moment to run in the opposite direction. Townsfolk, prisoners and guards were running for their lives in all directions. She found what looked like a safe spot to regroup and sat down to catch her breath. She crouched down and put her knees to her chest so she could maneuver her wrists underneath her butt to get her still bound hands in front of her. Jerien could hear the monster roaring and with it, the strange language being yelled at the same time. She stood up and strained her ears so she could listen better. She wanted everyone to shut up so she could concentrate on it. She didn't get her request as Hadvar barreled into her again.

"Are you trying to get yourself killed? He yelled at her. "Come on!" He grabbed her by the arm and drug her like a child towards a stone tower that was still intact. He opened the door, threw her in the room and slammed the wooden door shut in one swift motion.

Jerien was getting tired of being tossed around by this hulk, but stopped short of telling him so when she realized that she was on the ground at the feet of the Stormcloak leader. She quickly scrambled up and over to side of the man she was momentarily angry at a second before. An awkward silence hung in the air as the lone Imperial soldier took stock of the room. Four soldiers dressed in leather and blue fabric stared at him and the Nord woman from the opposite wall.

Ulfric broke the silence, "Don't worry Hadvar," he said in a slow deliberate voice. "My men and I are concerned with a more pressing matter right now than to worry about a soldier with a list."

Hadvar narrowed his eyes and asked, "Did you do this? Is this creature part of some hellish Stormcloak plan to punish the Empire?"

Ulfric laughed, "Ha ha ha, I appreciate the fact that you think I have so much power, but no. This devil is not of my doing and has a plan of its own. I think it has more important things to do than choose sides in a war. Unlike you Hadvar. You're a proud Nord, why do you choose to fight against your family and friends? Why are you fighting against Skyrim rather than with her?"

"That's what you don't understand. I am fighting for her, what's best for her. Skyrim doesn't need to be torn apart right now. We need to be united for our true strength to be shown, not fighting amongst ourselves." Hadvar explained.

"United you say…" Ulfric shook his head. "You mean we should be good little boys and girls and be thankful for the meager scraps from the Thalmor's table. NO! Skyrim and her people don't need to be told what to do and who to worship. I refuse to be an obedient dog on an Elf leash. Fortunately I am not the only one who feels this way. Many of your brothers and sisters are true to Skyrim and fight alongside me. And we will not rest until Skyrim and all her people are truly free!" As Ulfric was giving his little speech, the wounded soldiers around him stood and seemed to hold their heads up higher. One of them put his hand on his sword and gave Hadvar a hard look. Hadvar sensed the increased tension and slowly reached for his own sword.

Before any blood could be shed, the top half of the tower exploded inward as a giant, horned, black head broke through the wall above where Jerien and Hadvar were standing. The impact sent them flying towards the Stormcloak soldiers, and again, Jerien was hurled against Ulfric. He surrounded her in a giant bear hug but she wasn't sure if it was to protect her from flying debris or to stop Hadvar from pulling her away from him.

Hadvar had not wasted a second and was pulling on her ragged tunic, trying to wrench her from Ulfric's grasp. He succeeded in freeing her from the Stormcloak leaders iron grip and was pushing her up the stairs away from the dazed pile of men. They reached the second floor landing when the dragon burst through the side of the tower again. This time it was its tail that left a gaping hole in the stone. Hadvar quickly ran the rest of the way up the stairs and peeked through the opening to assess the situation.

"Do you see that house to the right?" He asked Jerien as he pulled her hands towards him. She nodded as he cut her bonds. "We are going to jump onto the roof and then make our way to the main fortress. Do you know where that is?" Jerien shook her head side to side. "Then stay close to me and stay down." Jerien nodded and stepped towards the hole. The roof of the house was farther than she was expecting and she hesitated. Hadvar noticed this and gave her a helpful nudge. He grabbed her arm and belt and threw her onto the thatched roof. "Tuck and roll!" he yelled.

Jerien landed with an ungraceful "Ooooff!" and slipped in to the attic of the house through a large hole that was smoldering. She barely had time to figure out which way was up when Hadvar's bulky frame fell on top of her. "I told you to tuck and roll…" he said. Jerien gave him a dirty look and yelled at him, "I've had just about enough of you tossing me around! I'm not some tart that you can heave about at your will. If you ever…"

An ear splitting roar stopped her from continuing her tirade. Through the hole in the roof she could see the dragon fly overhead. She decided there was a better time and place for Hadvar's lecture and started down the broken stairs. Hadvar was right behind her as she reached the door. He grabbed her upper arm and then immediately let go. "Follow me." He said as he looked her in the eye. Jerien gave him a small smile and quick nod and matched him step for step as he ran hunched over from the house.

As they sprinted towards the center of the town, he pointed to a central tower. "That's where we're going!" He yelled at her. Jerien nodded and wondered how they were going to get there without being burned alive or crushed by giant bits of stone that the beast was flinging about. She almost admired the gracefulness of the creature. For something that large it was able to flit around from rooftop to rooftop with ease.

Jerien was knocked out of her stupor by a brick wall. Hadvar had stopped short in front of her and she ran into his back. The path he had taken between two buildings was blocked by the remains of the cart that had brought Jerien and the other prisoners into town. The rotten boards were burning quite easily in spite of the mold and lichen that were growing on it. The poor horse was a charred blackened mess of flesh that surprisingly made Jerien's stomach growl. "We'll have to go back around" Hadvar said. He ducked through the back door of a house and disappeared. Jerien was about to follow when the dragon landed on the roof of the structure, crushing it. Its back was to her and its spiky tail was hanging down in front of her face. She began to reach out to touch the ebony scales of the monster, but decided against that thought.

She realized that her escape route had been cut off and she would have to backtrack all the way around. Jerien crouched down as low as she could, and began to back up slowly. She did not want the creature to notice her. She did not want its undivided attention.

Currently the dragon was focused on several Imperial soldiers that were pitifully trying to take it down with their bows and arrows. The creature seemed annoyed by their attempts to harm it and was playing with them. It would breath fire in one direction, wait for the screaming men to run the other way and then breath fire ahead of them so they would have to turn around and run back in the direction they recently fled from. Jerien could swear she could hear the sound of laughter every time the dragon roared at the men.

She finally put enough distance between herself and the crushed house to turn and run. She hoped that Hadvar had made it out of the dwelling before the dragon flattened it. She had only known him for a few brief moments and in that time he had put her in a line headed for the chopping block, tackled her to the ground twice, thrown her in a tower and on a house, and was constantly yelling at her. But still she wished him no ill will. She didn't get a sense of malice or evil coming from him like she did Legate Rikka. He had seemed genuinely remorseful that he had lined her up for execution. If he wanted her dead he wouldn't have yelled at her, thrown her around or tackled her. He would have left her alone to her own devices to get charred to a crisp or crushed by falling debris. She really did hope that he was still alive.

After much trial and error, Jerien made it to the fortress in the center of the town. As she got closer, she heard arguing. Ralof and Hadvar were there in front of the tower, yelling at each other. They both noticed Jerien at the same time.

"Prisoner, come with me if you want to live!" Hadvar yelled. He was standing by the main door to the citadel. Her heart was relieved that he had survived the dragon attack so far.

"Jerien! Follow me!" Ralof said, looking at her with pleading eyes. He was getting ready to enter a small door just off to the side of the large wooden entryway doors.

She felt torn on having to choose between the two men. She had only known them for such a short period of time. Usually she felt a tug, or something in her head would give her an indication of what to do. She realized now that it had been Mother's influence on her, making decisions for her. She had apparently put enough distance between her and Mother to be completely on her own, to finally be her own woman, to making her own choices. Jerien didn't know if this was a blessing or a curse right now. She sure could use someone else to make this decision for her.

"Jerien! Quickly!" said one man.

"Prisoner! Come with me!" said the other.

Jerien, for the first time in her life, made her own decision and followed the man to her left. She hoped that this choice didn't earn her another enemy. The man opened the door and followed her in.

It was dark once Ralof shut the door. "Are you Ok?" He asked. "I lost track of you once the monster attacked. I saw a woman on fire run away from the block. I was so scared it was you."

"No, I'm ok, I think. It was the Legate. Hadvar saved me and went back for her, but was too late."

"Hadvar saved you before his precious Legate? I'm surprised." Ralof said as they began to walk down the stairs, deeper into the stronghold. "He follows her around like a puppy, polishes her armor, retrieves her slippers. He probably takes care of her every need, if you know what I mean. What would make him put your life above hers?"

Jerien stopped. "I don't know, maybe I'll go ask him" she said as she tried to push past Ralof.

"No, no, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it that way. I just meant…, I mean that he has always followed his rules and regulations and his damn lists. He is the most predictable man I've ever known. He always does what he believes is 'right', even if it goes against his friends and family. That's why he joined the Imperial army, because of his sense of duty and justice. And for him to save someone that wasn't on his 'list' ahead of his superior officer is just…very unexpected of him." He stopped there and looked in Jerien's eyes. "I would have saved you first too."

"Over that bitch, Legate Rikka, I should hope so. What's her problem anyway?" Jerien said as they continued down the stairs.

"I don't really know that much about her. She's a born and bred Imperial from Cyrrodiil. She's been here almost since Ulfric started to fight back against the Empire. She hates Skyrim and everything it stands for. Especially the Nords that live in it."

"So she's a good weapon for the empire then, huh?" Jerien stated.

"Depends on who you ask." Ralof said as he slowed to look around a corner. "She's General Tullius' right hand and is merciless when it comes to dolling out punishments, as you have seen. But her ruthlessness towards the Nords she deals with has also helped out our cause too. She alone has caused many more sons and daughters to join us and fight for Skyrim's freedom. Ssshh, there's someone up ahead." Ralof crouched down and slowed his pace. Jerien followed his lead.

They heard yelling and the sound of fighting up ahead. "Where are we?" She whispered.

"We're in the dungeon, below the main hall." Ralof replied.

"What! Shouldn't we be trying to find a way out of here? Why are we going IN to a prison?" Jerien asked.

"Ssshh, don't worry. Helgen wasn't always an Imperial hold. Before we were forced out, we dug some escape routes as a backup plan in case any of us ended up down here."

The noises stopped as they reached a door at the bottom of the stairs. "I don't suppose you happened to grab a sword or an axe as you were wandering around the town, did you?" Ralof asked.

"Sorry, slipped my mind." Jerien said as she thought about her missed opportunity with the Legate's sword. She was about to inform Ralof that she was pretty handy with summoning fireballs but was stopped by the door bursting open and pinning them behind it. They were shoved into a small nook as the large door slammed open. Three Imperial soldiers didn't see them as they rushed up the steps and out of the dungeon. Jerien waited until she heard the men reach the main door before she stepped out from the wall.

"That was close." Ralof said as he entered the room the soldiers had vacated. "Damn Imperials!" She heard him say as she followed him into the room and saw the carnage.

There were five cages in the small dark dungeon. Each one of them housed a bleeding dying Stormcloak soldier. Ralof ran to the first one and knelt down. He reached through the rusty bars to hold the hand of the dying man within. "Largeth … no" he said. There was some recognition in the man's eyes as he looked up at Ralof. His lips moved but no sound came out due to the gaping hole in his throat. "Ssshhh, don't speak Largeth." The man attempted to get up but Ralof gently pushed him back down. "They'll pay for this, I promise you." A moment later, the man was dead.

Ralof stood a few minutes later and looked at Jerien. He seemed colder, more distant. "You need something more protective to wear than your rags. Ulge is in the last cell. She is close to your size. Put on her armor."

Jerien opened her mouth to object, but the look in Ralof's eyes stopped her. She wasn't looking forward to putting on the bloody armor of a dead woman but he had a point. Fortunately for her, Ulge's armor wasn't covered in blood. The Imperial soldiers were nice enough to remove most of it so they could ravage her before they slit her throat. Jerien shivered as she changed her clothes, but it wasn't due to a chill in the air. The horror of war was becoming evident to her. Mother's memories of the Oblivion Crisis were nothing compared to this. These were human monsters that were causing this butchery.

The silence that hung in the air in the tiny dungeon was getting to Jerien as she changed her clothes. "So what's this war all about?" she asked.

"You don't know? Oh, yeah, I forgot you were captured crossing the border. But I'm surprised you haven't heard about it, I figured it would be the talk all over Cyrrodiil. This war basically started when the emperor signed the White Gold Concordat to end the Great War with the Aldmeri Dominion. There was a clause in it to outlaw the worship of Talos. The emperor didn't even try to fight for us, he just signed whatever the Thalmor put in front of him. Well that didn't sit well with us Nords. When Ulfric recaptured Markarth for the Empire, he had them lift the ban of Talos worship before he relinquished control of the city back to them. But it wasn't long before they reneged and again we were persecuted and hunted for our worship of Talos. Jarl Ulfric knew that High King Torygg was too weak to stand up to the Thalmor so he challenged him for the right to rule Skyrim and defeated him fair and square. Now the empire is saying that Ulfric murdered Torygg and they put price on his head. They captured us in an ambush at Darkwater Crossing two days ago. I'm still surprised they didn't haul us all the way to Cyrrodiil to face the emperor himself, but we ended up here. I know it sounds crazy, but I'm glad that dragon showed up. If not, well then…"

She listened to Ralof's tale as she dressed. Some of what he said sounded familiar to Jerien. She remembered the war with the Aldmeri, but Mother was cautious and clever and able to keep their little family out of it. And she didn't worship Talos like she did other deities so the outlawing of it didn't bother her. It seemed like such a trivial thing to start a war over to her. She cleared her throat as a sign to Ralof that he could turn around. He turned and gave her a little smile and nodded. "That color looks good on you. You wear it well and would make a fine Stormcloak."

"Thanks. It's a….. it's a little tight across the bum….." Jerien said awkwardly, realizing that it was inappropriate to comment about the dead woman's pants.

Ralof craned his neck to the side and let out a slight laugh at her remark. "I don't see that as a problem." He said.

The awkward moment was interrupted by a loud roar and mortar shaking loose from the ceiling. "By the Nine! It's ripping apart the tower!" Ralof pushed Jerien into the farthest cell and moved the sleeping pallet away from the wall. He got on his knees and lifted a large flat stone away from the corner to reveal a narrow tunnel. Jeriens first thought was that Haldrid would have never been able to fit in the slender tapered hole. "Ladies first!" Ralof said as he took Jerien by the arms and began to lower her into the passage.

"I can't see!" she yelled as he gave her a firm shove when he slid in behind her.

"Keep going! There should be a torch in a few yards! Go!" he said as he slid the heavy stone back in place behind them.

She shuffled forward on her hands and knees until she ran headlong into a wall. She felt around blindly until she came across what felt like a short torch. There was two rocks tied to it and she was hoping one of them was a flint. Ten try's later, with shaky hands, she got a spark and the torch began to glow. She saw the tunnel went to the right and she continued on, Ralof close behind.

Chapter 3:

They emerged into a large cavern after ten minutes of crawling. There was a small waterfall creating a pool at the far end. Jerien immediately walked over to it to quench her parched throat. When she sated her thirst she looked around for Ralof. He was testing the strength of a bow that had been hung on a peg by the opening of the tunnel. There were various weapons adoring the wall: daggers, bows and arrows, swords, axes and a mace or two along with shields of various shapes and sizes. Ralof had already chosen a sword and shield that he had hung over his back. He looked over at her and gestured towards the weapons. "You're going to need something to protect yourself with."

Jerien walked over to the weapons and picked up a war axe. It was heavier than she expected. She tried to twirl it on her fingers like she had a thousand times before, but her fingers wouldn't cooperate and it fell to the floor with a loud 'Clang!"

Ralof looked at the ground and tried his best to stifle a laugh. Jeriens' face turned bright red and she turned around so she wouldn't have to look at him. 'What is wrong with me?' she thought. Weaponry and all of its skills had always come so easily to her. She was a master of archery, swordsmanship, and blocking. Well … Mother was. Apparently more than just her decision making ability was influenced by Mother. She looked down at her hands and wondered what else she would have to learn all over. She closed her eyes and attempted to summon a fireball. Before she left Cyrrodiil, Jerien could do this in her sleep. Today, it took all her strength to produce a small flame. She held it as long as she could, which was only about 10 seconds, and then let it go. She sighed. She wanted to be entirely on her own, without any help from Mother, and that's what she got. "Be careful of what you wish for…" Jerien said out loud.

"What did you wish for?" Ralof asked. His smile disappeared when he saw her struggling with the simple flame spell.

"My own life."

"Did you not have a life before?" He inquired.

"Yes, well, yes and no. I was living, but it really wasn't my life. I felt like a puppet, like I had no control. I just wanted some independence that's all. I wanted to be me, not an extension of my mother. So I ran away to create a new life. I knew that I couldn't do that in Cyrrodiil, so I came here, to Skyrim. Mother was born here but she would never talk about it. She even forbade me to come here, so of course, this is where I ran to. But now that I get to be my own person, a real, separate person, I feel so empty. I'm … I'm all alone. I've never really been alone before. Now I'm not…I'm not sure that this is what I want. I can't… I'm not….." Jerien was going to say more, but realized what she just said. Could Mother be right? Was she not strong enough to be on her own? Completely on her own? That's when the tears finally fell.

The next thing Jerien knew, Ralof's arms were around her and she was crying and shaking. She wanted to push him away because she was embarrassed for blubbering like a child. She also wanted him to hold her tighter because she felt hollow and alone and his warmth was making her feel safe.

"Sshhh." He said as he stroked her hair. "It'll be alright. I promise."

Jerien shook her head and looked up at him. "You don't know that." She said as she wiped some snot away from her nose. She backed away and sat down on a large boulder. "You have no idea of what's going to happen to me. No one does."

"But that's how life works though." Ralof chuckled. "No one ever really knows what tomorrow holds. But we wake up each morning and put one foot in front of the other and we keep going. If you go back to your mother, what kind of life will you be living? You said you were a puppet, right? Is that what you really want then? Do you want your entire life dictated by someone else? All your choices made for you?"

Jerien thought about it. It had made for an easy and carefree life so far, but was it a life? Was it a life she really wanted to continue living? If she tucked her tail and went back, would she be able to live with herself? "No." she said quietly.

"What?" Ralof asked. "Did you say something?" He held his hand up to his ear.

"No," Jerien said.

"I'm still not sure I heard your answer. Do you want to live someone else's life?"

"NO!" she yelled. It echoed in the small cavern.

"That's better! There is a fire in that belly! Now come on! Let's Go!" Ralof said as he pulled her to her feet.

"Where are we going?" Jerien asked.

"To my sisters' house in Riverwood. It's been two days since I've eaten and I'm starving!" He waited until Jerien had picked out a lighter war axe and dagger, a sturdy bow, some iron arrows and a light weight shield. They walked over to the waterfall and Ralof began to climb. Someone had dug some indentations in the stone to make it easier. Once he was level with the waterfall, he jumped towards it and disappeared. Jerien looked up with a shocked expression on her face. Where did he go? Was this magic?

"Come on!" she heard him yell. Jerien followed the same hand and foot holds that Ralof used. She climbed until she could go no higher. "Jump towards the water!" Jerien was unsure that this was a good idea, but thought 'What the hell' and jumped.

Instead of hitting a wet wall of stone, she slipped on some moss covered rocks and landed on her butt. She could hear Ralof laughing at her over the roar of the water. She must have looked a pitiful sight: sitting in the bed of a small river created by the falls with the water spilling down on her head. Ralof eventually walked over to her and pulled her up. "Come along, my Lady Grace" he said.

"My name is Jerien." She said with her hands on her soaking wet hips.

"Yeah, well I think Grace suits you better." He said with a wink.

Jerien looked around and saw that they had jumped through a narrow hole that had been dug out of the back of the waterfall. It was completely hidden by the water and foliage that was growing around the stream. Even if the water stopped flowing, it would be difficult to find the opening unless you knew it was there.

Ralof saw that Jerien was impressed with their escape route. "We have many such hidey-holes throughout Skyrim. Only a few of us know them all. You know, Jarl Ulfric is always looking for strong new recruits for the Stormcloaks. I think you would be a very potent addition to our army. I could even put in a request to help train you."

Jerien looked at him. She smiled softly and said, "Thank you, but I don't know what I want right now Ralof. I don't really even know who I am. How can I fight for something if I don't know why I'm fighting for it? I've always had a warm feeling when I thought about Skyrim and Mother was born here, but I'm not going to choose a side just because of a feeling. And besides, I was born and raised in Cyrrodiil, my father was an Imperial. Should I fight for them because of that? I don't know. I'm sorry Ralof, I cannot choose a side right now."

"Even though the Empire had no problem with chopping your head off…." Jerien furrowed her brows and looked at him. "Alright then, I will not pressure you, even though you do look beautiful in our armor." Again he gave her another quick wink.

Jerien sighed and shook her head. She gave Ralof a stern look. "Okay, okay. Sorry." He said. "Come on then, we have over half a days walk and I'm hungry."

As they began to walk down the rocky hillside, they heard the dragon roar again. "Get down! Here it comes!" Ralof shouted. As soon as Jerien crouched down, she saw the black winged beast fly overhead. It circled above them a couple times and then flew in the same direction they were headed. "We'll have to keep an eye on the sky from here on out." He said. They waited until they could no longer see the beast before they stood and continued down the hill.

As they walked, the sun slowly went behind the horizon and the two moons of Skyrim floated up in the cloudless sky. They were both full tonight and put off enough light so they could easily see where they were going without having to light a torch. Jerien asked questions about Ralofs' life as they walked along a dirt path. She was surprised to learn that he and Hadvar grew up in the same village and had courted the same girl.

"We were the best of friends in our younger days, when we didn't have a care in the world. Fishing by the river, hunting in the forests. We were rarely apart. Even then Hadvar had a need for order. His bow, his nets, fishing gear, you name it; it was always pristine and organized. Everything had to be perfect. I think his need for order was due to losing his parents at such a young age. They were both killed by bandits when he was seven. He was raised by his aunt and uncle, the blacksmith after that. He never really talked about it much." Ralof stopped to pick some blue flowers on the side of the path. "I, on the other hand, was pretty much his opposite. I don't like having every minute of my life planned out ahead of time. I've always had a 'whatever happens, happens' kind of attitude. You can probably see how my lackadaisical view on life drove Hadvar crazy. We fought, sure, what boys don't. But we always somehow stayed friends though. Even after we both vied for Berryl's hand."

"Berryl?" Jerien said. "That's a beautiful name."

Ralof smiled and had a faraway look on his face. "She was a beautiful woman. Picture a sunrise on a warm spring day; that was Berryl. Beautiful golden blonde hair like the sun. Eyes the color of the clover fields that surround the town. She always had an easy smile on her lips and a kind word for everyone." He picked another flower and inhaled its scent.

"Who did she choose?"

"Me." Ralof said.

"You're married?" Jerien asked with a note of surprise.

"No." Ralof's voice was quiet and full of sorrow as he continued. "Sadly it was never meant to be. She was killed in an Imperial ambush. She and her family were returning from a secret worship at a hidden shrine of Talos the night before we were to be wed. There were a few Stormcloak soldiers escorting them. Those Imperial bastards didn't care that she wasn't a soldier. They slaughtered them all. They even defiled her before they stabbed her in the heart. They massacred everyone in the caravan. Her little brother barely survived to tell what happened."

"I'm sorry; I didn't mean to upset you." Jerien said quietly.

"It's alright." Ralof said after a few minutes of silence. "A few days later Hadvar and I left to join opposing armies. Funny thing is that we both joined for the same reason."

"What was that?" Jerien asked.

"To make sure something like that doesn't happen again."

An uncomfortable silence hung in the air between them. Jerien's mind raced to think of something else to say. "Why do you keep picking flowers?" She finally asked.

"These?" Ralof held up a handful of bright blue petals. "These are blue mountain flowers. They have a healing property to them if you mix them up right. My sister is adept in making potions. I think they may come in handy once we reach her house."

"Why is that?" Jerien asked.

'Because I have a little cut that she will need to look at and mend for me." Ralof said. "She may not be the best seamstress, but she's done a hell of a job putting me back together a time or two."

"Are you alright?" Jerien stopped in the middle of the path and faced Ralof.

"Of course. It's just a scratch, but the sooner we get to Riverwood, the better." Jerien took a better look at Ralof and noticed that he was paler than he was earlier. Their pace had become more leisurely, but she thought he was slowing down due to him being exhausted, as was she. She realized now that it was because of a wound on his left side that had bled down to his knee.

"By the Nine Ralof!" Jerien yelled. "What happened?"

"The headsman swung at me right after the dragon attacked. Apparently he wanted to get one more Stormcloak notch on his axe handle. He only nicked me. It wasn't so bad at first, but I think the running and jumping and crawling has bothered it a bit. I'll be fine once we get to Gerdur's house. We're almost there." He said as he pointed down the lane to a dim light in the distance. "That'll be the blacksmith's forge. It's always burning. Good 'ole Alvor."

Jerien looked down the lane to the spot Ralof was pointing to. She saw the soft glowing light but also saw two small black dots running towards them. The dots were moving fast and were getting bigger. "Wolves!" she yelled. Jerien began to fumble with the bow that was slung across her back. She realized that by the time she had notched an arrow, the wolves would be upon them. She pulled the war axe from her belt just in time as the smaller of the two animals leapt towards her face. She swung the axe and hit the animal in the head with the broad side and sent it flying. It hit a small rocky cliff and slid down to the ground. It stood back up, shook its head and looked at her for a split second before it launched itself at her throat. Jerien lost no time and had slipped her forearm into her shield to bring it up to her chest. She bashed the crazed animal a few times and was able to push it away just far enough so that her next swing embedded her axe in the wolf's skull. It landed with a thud on the ground.

"Ha ha! Ralof did you see…" Jerien stopped as she saw Ralof and the larger wolf rolling around on the ground. She leaned down to retrieve her axe but it was firmly implanted in the skull of the dead animal. She put her foot on its muzzle and tugged harder, but was unable to free her weapon.

"Damn it!" She yelled. She pulled her dagger from its sheath and jumped onto the back of the wolf that had currently locked its jaws onto Ralofs' left forearm. She plunged the dagger into the animal's upper torso and twisted the knife back and forth. The wolf let out a whimper and tried to snap at her. She pinned the animal between her and Ralof until it stopped moving.

After a few seconds of heavy breathing Ralof said, "This is not how I pictured a three way with you was going to happen." He laughed at his little joke as Jerien pulled the dead wolf off of him.

"Ugh! Are you ever serious?" She chided him.

"Not unless I have to be. Life's too short here to take everything so seriously." Ralof said as he slowly sat up. Jerien could see that the wolf attack had taken a lot out of him. She held out her hands to help him up. "I can get up on my own." He said.

"Yeah, but not before you bleed to death. Come on." She reached down and grabbed his arm to pull him up. On her third attempted Jerien finally got him to his feet. "You're a lot heavier than you look." She said.

"Awe shucks. And I've been working on my girlish figure too…" Ralof said. He was very unsteady on his feet. Jerien put her left arm around his waist and put his right arm over her shoulder. "Are you trying to get fresh with me?" He asked. "Because if you are…"

"No, you big oaf. You're about ready to pass out and if you go down, I don't think I'll be able to get you back on your feet again. Come on, we still have a little ways to go. Where's your sisters' house?"

"It's kind of back behind the inn, on the north side of town. We might have to take the long way around town if we see any guards. I don't think it would be a good idea for anyone to see two Stormcloak soldiers marching through the middle of town. The Jarl hasn't directly said he was siding with the Imperials, but he hasn't been very welcoming to Ulfric's men either."

"Two? But I'm not…oh, yeah." Jerien said as she looked down at her armor. It would be impossible to convince someone that she was not a soldier while wearing her current clothing. "Alright, the gates are just up ahead. Where do we go from there?"

Ralof lifted his head and squinted his eyes to focus on the gates. He said, "Since the guards are not in their camp right now, we can sneak off to the right. We'll go behind the wood elf's house. Just beyond that is Gerdurs. Hurry, they might be back at any moment."

Jerien half dragged, half carried Ralof to the right behind some trees. She saw the empty guard camp and the small house that was behind it that Ralof said belonged to an elf. As they made their way by the camp, she held her breath, hoping that a sentry didn't take that exact moment to return. Ralof was completely useless right now, unable to even stand on his own. And just because she got lucky with the wolves didn't mean that she would be able to take down a trained soldier. Luck was on their side as they weaved around and made it to Gerdurs house unseen.

Jerien had to knock several times before she heard movement in the house. She had no idea what time it was, only that it had been dark for several hours. "Somebody better be dead!" a man said as he jerked open the door.

"Not yet, but soon" was Ralof's answer. The man's eyes grew large as he took in the scene in front of him. Two stormcloak soldiers were at his door. One looked haggard and wide eyed. The other looked half dead….and familiar. "Ralof!" the man said. He grabbed the wounded soldier and pulled him into the house. "Gerdur! Gerdur! Wake up! It's Ralof! He's hurt!"

Jerien was left at the door but knew better than to dawdle outside. She followed Ralof and the man inside and secured the door behind her. She stood quietly and watched the scene unfold in front of her. There was a woman in a white sleeping gown sitting up in a bed at the far end of the room. She appeared annoyed and groggy at first, but at the mention of Ralofs name, she immediately snapped to attention.

"Lay him on the table." She said as she started opening cabinet doors and pulling out bottles of all shapes and sizes. She ripped off the leather gauntlet that was barely hanging on Ralofs left forearm since the wolf attack. She quickly sized up the seriousness of the wound and then looked to his side. "Hod, I need more light!" The man she called Hod was already working on lighting three more lanterns. Within a minute, the kitchen area was as bright as daylight.

"Dammit Ralof! What did you do?" Gerdur said as she pushed up his leather cuirass and saw the wound that had saturated a third of his body with blood.

"You should…see the….see the other…" Was all Ralof said before he passed out.

"Ralof!" Gerdur yelled as she slapped him to wake him back up. The blow had no effect on the exhausted man. The woman growled with frustration at her uncooperative patient. She noticed movement by the door. "You! Come here!"

Jerien didn't want to get any closer to this woman but decided that if she didn't do what she was told, the woman would get even angrier.

"What the hell happened to him!?" Gerdur asked her as she turned her attention back to her unconscious brother and started cleaning the wound on his side.

"I'm not sure exactly. We were taken to Helgen to be executed and then a dragon attacked and Ralof got hurt. We escaped but then two wolves attacked us and bit him."

"Wolves?" Hod asked. "I wonder if she's talking about the remainders of that infected pack the Jarls men were sent to exterminate last week."

"If it is," Gerdur sighed, "We'll have to treat him for rockjoint too and ….wait…..did you say, dragon?" The woman stopped momentarily and looked at Jerien.

Jerien nodded as the woman gave her a quick once over. "Were you bitten too?" She asked.

"No. I'm fine. Just a few scratches." She said. Gerdur narrowed her eyes for a second and then turned her attention back to her patient. She shook her head and said, "You must be in shock then. There are no such things as dragons."

"I'm not in shock and I am telling the truth. A dragon attacked Helgen. It destroyed it. We barely got out with our lives." Jerien stared at the woman, trying to compel her to believe her. Gerdur briefly looked up at her. It was obvious that she was unconvinced.

"She's telling the truth. It was a dragon…I wouldn't have believed it either, except I was there. Ouch! Dang it Gerdur! I'm flesh and blood, not a piece of lumber!" Ralof said as he came to on the makeshift operating table.

"Ralof! What happened to you? Why are you on my table bloodied and broken again?"

"I went dancing with a headsman and he wanted to lead." He said as he flinched. "He didn't like the fact that I was a better dancer than he was, so he swung at me. His blade was sharper and quicker than my whit and he sliced me as I jumped back. He did a good job though, it's a good clean cut, isn't it?" Ralof asked.

Gerdur sighed and shook her head. "You'll be the death of me, brother dear." Ralof smiled and winked at his sister.

Chapter 4:

"So what's your story?" Gerdur asked Jerien as she began to stitch her patients wound. "How did you get mixed up with my brother? Are you in his unit?"

"Me, oh no. I'm not a stormcloak. I'm just wearing this until I can find better armor. I was put in the same prisoner transport that was headed to Helgen." Jerien said.

"Why were you in a prisoner transport?" Gerdur asked.

Jerien's mouth grew hard. "I made a mistake, a stupid mistake. I didn't hurt anybody, but it didn't matter to the Legate. She put me in the line to get my head chopped off with everyone else."

"Ah, so you've met Legate Rikka, have you?" Hod said. "She's well known around these parts." He was holding a lantern at a better angle so Gerdur could see what she was stitching. It was obvious that this wasn't the first time they had done something like this.

"Well, you're not just going to stand there. Make yourself useful. Crush up some of those blue flower petals that are on the far table. There should be a mortar and pestle on the shelf above it. You do know what a mortar and pestle is, don't you?"

"I know what a mortar and pestle is." She said defensively. "I can make any po….." Jerien stopped mid-sentence. Mother could make any potion or poison, not her. She would be lucky if she didn't grind her fingers up along with the petals. "Yes, I know what it is. How finely do you want them gound?" She asked in a meeker voice.

"You need to make a paste out of them and the garlic hanging above the shelf. Make it a two to one ratio on garlic to petal then add some hot water. There's a kettle right there. Put it on the spit above the fire to heat it up. Don't use too much or it will be too runny and not stick to his wound." Gerdur instructed her.

"Garlic, no! That will make me stink and then no one will want to kiss me!" Ralof said as he squirmed on the table.

"No one wants to kiss you now so I don't think you have anything to worry about. Hold still! I think I liked it better when you were passed out."

Jerien smiled as she ground up the ingredients and watched the interaction between brother and sister. She herself was an only child. She had begged Mother for a little brother and sister because she was so lonely growing up. Mother would tell her that she was special and unique and she would never be able to have another child like her. She thought that Mother just didn't want to deal with another child until she learned the truth. Still, she had always longed for a sibling. Someone to play with and talk to throughout the years. Jerien had a few friends now and then, but they moved so often that she would lose touch with them. She would write to them and they would write back for a little while, but then the correspondence would slow and then finally stop. When she finally reached her teenage years, she found out why they stopped writing so she just stopped trying and spent most of her time with Mother. She also learned not to get attached to the housekeepers or handymen that Mother hired. They would work for a handful of years and then they too would leave or she and Mother would move again. 'Enough!' she said to herself. 'Stop whining about the past. It's my time now. I refuse to let Mother's influence bind me to a life I don't want!'

"Whoa now, don't break my mortar." Gerdur said as she came up behind her. Jerien looked down and saw that she had ground the ingredients into dust.

"Oh, sorry. I wasn't paying attention."

"It's okay. The more finely they are ground, the better the effects of the paste will be. Add some water and mix it to a thick consistency and it will be ready." Gerdur patted her on the shoulder and walked over and began tearing up some strips of fabric to make a poultice with. Jerien brought the concoction over to the woman and she began to apply the mixture to a large piece of cloth.

"Are you sure it was a dragon?" Gerdur asked as she placed the poultice on Ralof's wound. He sniffed the concoction and scowled at his sister.

"I've never seen one myself, but what else could it have been? Big black wings, large scaly body, breathed fire…..if you have any ideas of what else that could be, please share." Ralof said.

"Dragons haven't been seen in Skyrim in ages. Where did it come from?" Hod asked.

"Well wherever it came from, the Jarl needs to know if there is a dragon flying about. Riverwood's defenseless. Someone will have to go to Whiterun to get word to Jarl Balgruuf and convince him to send troops to protect us." Gerdur said to no one in particular. She had finished bandaging up her brother and moved over to Jerien. She took Jeriens' chin in her left hand and gently started cleaning the cut on her cheek. For such a hard woman, she was surprisingly soft and tender with her hands. Once the wound was clean, Gerdur took out a finer, more delicate needle and thread and began to put Jeriens' check back together.

"Alright, alright, I'll go." Ralof said as he tried to move off the table. "Find me some different armor and I'll be on my way."

"You'll do no such thing!" Gerdur said to him. "I just spent a lot of time and effort putting you back together and I'll not have you go and ripping out those stitches. Lay. Back. Down."

Ralof sighed deeply. "I don't know which is worse, you or the dragon," he said, but did as his sister bade and lay back down on the table. Gerdur had already turned her attention back to Jeriens' cheek knowing full well that she had already won the battle.

"There now." She said as she put some of the mixture Jerien had made on the cut. Jerien flinched a little at the sting of it. "It will tingle a bit, that just means it's working. With luck, there will barely be a scar." Jerien nodded and thought again of Haldred.

Jerien gently touched her cheek below the cut. It was still hot to the touch but it was tingling. Ralof was right, it had a horrible stench to it. "Thank you" she said.

"It's the least I could do for helping my brother. And if you'd like, we have a bag of old armor that doesn't fit Hod or Ralof anymore in the back. You're welcome to look through it. It's just a hodge-podge of iron and hide but it's clean with little rust."

"Thank you. I will definitely need something other than this if I am going to go to Whiterun." Jerien said.

"You would do that for us?" Gerdur said.

"Of course. You said someone needs to tell the Jarl of what happened. I'm the most logical choice. Though I don't know how to get there."

"It's easy. Whiterun is not far from here, a little over half a days ride. Head north out of town and stay on the main road. It will lead you straight there." Hod said.

"Thank you." Gerdur took Jerien's hand and gave it a squeeze. "There is also some old spell books in with the armor. Feel free to read them or take them with you. I could never get the hang of magic so they just collect dust. Some of them are novice level or apprentice, well below your skill level I'm sure, but you're welcome to use them."

"No, that's wonderful. I really appreciate it." Jerien said. 'You have no idea how much I really do appreciate it' she thought.

Dressed in hand me down armor that was a mixture of hide and studded pieces, Jerien left Gerdur and Hod's house the next morning and walked north through town. She wanted to say goodbye to Ralof, but he was sleeping soundly and she didn't want to disturb him. Gerdur said she would tell him goodbye for her once he woke up. He had again tried to recruit her for the Stormcloaks before he drifted off to sleep. He reminded her that Ulfric would be waiting for her in Whindhelm if she changed her mind.

She felt refreshed after sleeping a few hours and reading some of the spell tomes Gerdur provided her. She learned something new with every book she read. Jerien could feel her knowledge of the restoration arts growing. She even found a destruction tome that taught her about throwing fire balls. Granted, she could not throw them very far right now, but with practice she knew she would get better. While she walked, she touched her hand to her cheek and whispered the new healing spell she learned. Her cheek glowed under her hand and Jerien giggled because it tickled.

The pack she wore slung over her shoulder was heavy. It was full to the brim. Gerdur had mixed up a few more batches of the healing mixture for Jerien and gave her some extra healing and stamina potions along with some food and wine. "I put some empty vials in there too so you can mix up some more if you want to. The flowers grow wild along the roads and you can find garlic at any apothecary or inn. There are so many more ingredients everywhere you turn in Skyrim. I suggest picking random items during your journey and mixing them up. My Ma and Da taught me a few things and I learned the rest with trial and error. Just try them in very small amounts first before you mix up a big batch of something and drink it. I'd hate to have you keel over after taking a big swig of a nightshade and deathbell potion. And another hint, if it says 'death' in its name, there's no need to try that ingredient." Gerdur said with a smile.

Jerien felt proud that she could already identify several of the plants and flowers that grew along the road. Blue and red mountain flowers were everywhere. Mora tapinella and hanging moss covered every fallen and decaying tree, along with some scaly pholiota growing on the north side of the biggest trees. When she came along a plant or fungi that she didn't know, she referred to a guide to herbology book she found at the bottom of the bag of armor. She thanked Gerdur again as she closed the book after looking up what the effects of imp stool would be. She decided not to give it a nibble when she read that there was a possibility of lingering damage to health and paralysis. She put some of the fungus in her bag to save for later. As she did so, she heard movement on the trail ahead of her. She crouched behind some bushes so as not to been seen.

A minute later she saw four figures walking towards her. One of them was in rags and his hands were bound. He was limping and it was obvious that he had been beaten severely. His face was bruised and puffy and his left eye was swollen shut.

The three guards that were walking with him were dressed in official looking robes and armor that Jerien had never seen. They were all very slender and beautiful and had a similar feminine look to them.

'High Elves' Jerien thought to herself. 'What are they doing?'

The bound man, a Nord, stumbled and was having difficulty getting back up. One of the guards went over to him and kicked him in the ribs with a pointed toed boot. "Get up!" he yelled. The man hugged his stomach and moaned.

"I said get up!" the elf yelled. The Nord male curled up in a ball, trying to protect his head from the beating he was anticipating.

"STOP!" The word was out of her mouth and Jerien was on her feet before she knew it. She stepped out from behind the bushes and stood in the road. The elves were surprised and startled and looked at her for a minute before their stares turned hard.

"Official Thalmor business. Back off." The elf in the dark robes said. He was wearing the black and gold robes of an inquisitor and had an air of authority about him. Elves lived unnaturally long lives, and it was difficult to determine their age, but he seemed older than the others. His features were sharper than the other two, more sinister. His eyes were so dark that they looked black. It was a stark contrast to his pale flawless skin and the gleaming white hair that was braided down his back.

"I didn't know it was your business to beat a man while he's lying defenseless on the ground." Jerien had no idea of where these words were coming from or why she felt so bold saying them. She glanced at the Norseman as he looked at her through his hands. He was shaking his head just slightly as if saying 'No'. She furrowed her brows and tilted her head as to say 'Why' but their silent conversation was cut short.

The elf in the robes smiled and threw his head back to laugh out loud. "You amuse me Nord. I haven't laughed like that in years." He said as he dried corners of his eyes with his black gloved hand. "You are bold and I like that. I would like to know your name before I have you run through."

Jerien looked at him for a minute before she decided to give her real name. "Jerien. Jerien Amontè." She finally said.

"Amontè?" The inquisitor said, taking an interest in her. "That's a very old and unusual name. Tell me, Jerien, have you ever heard of a Seraphine Amontè?"

"She's ….No."

The elf gasped and his eyes got wide. Jerien didn't think there were any whites to them at all. "She's your mother, isn't she?" he said with a sly grin. "Hmmmmm, that's veeerrryy interesting. Very interesting indeed." He thought for a moment and said, "I have changed my mind. You shall live and you will accompany us on our journey. There is someone who I believe you should meet."

"I'm sorry, but I have no time for a side quest at the moment. I have a most urgent task that I must complete." Jerien said as she began to back away. "Maybe some other time when I am not so busy."

"Oh no, I don't think you understand my dear. It wasn't a request." The elf said as his smile turned dark. He lifted his hands up and lightning began to trickle from his fingertips.

"RUN!" the male Nord yelled as he rolled into the robed elf's feet. The elf fell backwards and lost control of the lightning bolt that he was going to throw at Jerien. It hit one of the high elf guards that had the unfortunate luck to be standing between the inquisitor and the Nord woman. It knocked him unconscious and he fell down like a sack of potatoes.

Jerien quickly formed a fireball and threw it at the other guard. The fireball didn't harm him as much as it caught him off guard and startled him. It gave her the edge she needed to run into the forest. She could hear them yelling behind her but did not dare to look back to see where they were. She ran until her stamina ran out and she could run no more. She collapsed in a heap behind a giant tree.

'Coward!' she yelled at herself. 'They're probably going to kill that man now because of what he did for you!' Jerien chastised herself for being such a weakling and running away. 'You could have at least tried to help him.'

Her interaction with the inquisitor unnerved her. He knew her mother! And he was going to take her somewhere to meet someone…..but who? Where? Was this the reason that Mother never returned to Skyrim? That was over two hundred years ago! Who could he have possibly been taking her to meet? It had to have been an elf, no one else would still be alive. Or maybe it was an Amontè? A distant relative that was carrying a grudge after all this time? What did Mother do? Or maybe it WAS mother that he was going to take her to. The more Jerien thought about it, the more her head began to ache. The possibilities were endless.

Chapter 5:

Jerien knew she should get back on the road soon. She had decided to wait an hour or so before heading back though. She didn't want to run into the high elf inquisitor and was hoping that he didn't decide to wait for her to return. It would be getting dark soon and she still had a ways to go before she reached Whiterun. She had read through every book in her pack but there was nothing to help her with stealth or invisibility. It was now or never.

She gradually made her way back to the path. She walked as quietly and slowly as possible so as not to be detected. By the time she got back to the road she had gotten so good at sneaking that she was able to creep up on a deer and touch it before it scampered off. She didn't see or sense anyone else on the road so she straightened up and began jogging north. She had to make up for lost time.

Jerien continued north and soon came to a fork in the road. There was a sign post on the corner and the signs pointed in various directions to towns she had never heard of: Markarth, Riften, Solitude. They meant nothing to her. The only one that mattered right now was Whiterun. She looked in the direction that arrow pointed to and saw a wooden city sitting on a steep rocky cliff. It rose high into the sky and seemed to touch the clouds. The sun was on the horizon just to the left of the city and it made for a beautiful sight.

She took the path to the left that led towards her destination. She passed a meadery that boasted the 'best mead this side of Riften'. It was tempting to stop and get some refreshment but the urgency of her message to the Jarl was more important so she continued on.

She jogged for a few minutes more and came to a farm. There was a great commotion going on and she saw several warriors fighting one of the biggest creatures she had ever seen. The beast was as tall as three men and grunting in a guttural language. It was swinging a huge club that looked to be a large bone. Jerien had no idea what kind of animal would have an arm or leg that big that this creature would be able to use as a weapon. A dead cow lay near the beast and it seemed to be trying to protect its kill from the fighters that surrounded it.

"Watch out! Get behind it!" She heard someone yell. The warriors were having come difficulty in defeating the creature. Jerien decided at the last second to aid them and unslung her bow. She notched an arrow and aimed at the creature's right eye. She released the arrow and it struck true. She thought she heard it yell "Ow!" but couldn't be certain. She notched another arrow and let it loose. It struck the giants left cheek and it fell to its knees, holding its hands over its face. That gave the warriors around it the chance they were waiting for. They rushed it as one and struck it down.

One of the warriors came up to Jerien once the giant had been slain. "You handle yourself well. You would make for a decent addition to the Companions." She said. She was dressed in animal skins and had three lines of dark red war paint across her eyes and cheek. It looked like a slash of claws raking across her face. Her long brown hair was in multiple braids and her lips were dark, almost black. Her eyes were large and brown. She seemed to notice every move that Jerien made. She had a look about her, almost feral, but controlled.

"A companion?"

"Ah, an outsider, never heard of the great Companions? We are a prestigious order of warriors that fight with honor. We right wrongs and solve problems…for a price of course." The woman said.

"Oh, can anyone join this esteemed organization?" Jerien inquired.

"Not for me to say. You'll have to ask our harbinger, Kodlak Whitemane. He can see into your heart and your soul and know if you're a good fit or not. Our headquarters is in Jorrvaskr in Whiterun. Seek him out there when you are ready."

"I will do that…., once I'm ready." Jerien said. The women looked each other in the eyes and nodded. Jerien had just met this woman, but instinctively knew that she had made a friend. She knew this would not be the last time she interacted with this warrior.

Jerien turned back towards Whiterun when she heard, "Good aim." The voice was low and rough. She turned and saw a stout Nord with black kohl around his eyes looking at her. "You have strength, I hope to see you join us and become a shield sister." Her heart fluttered as she looked at him. He was rugged and handsome with dark hair that was just long enough to brush against his steel armor. His brow was firm but his smile had an impish look to it. She was instinctively drawn to this man. There was an animal attraction that she just couldn't ignore. Her heart beat faster as he held out his hand to her. "Farkas" he said.

"Jerien" she replied as she gripped his hand. She wondered if he also felt the spark that radiated up her arm as their hands touched.

"Nice to meet you Jerien. Would you like me to escort you to Whiterun? I'm headed that way." Farkas said.

"Uh…(ahem) I'm actually needing to speak with the Jarl at the moment. I have an urgent matter that I need to bring to his attention."

"You will need to go to Dragonsreach then. It's located in the cloud district." Farkas informed her. "It is just beyond Jorrvaskr. Follow me, I'll show you."

"Dragonsreach? Why is it called that?" Jerien asked as they started jogging down the road.

"According to legend, a great king captured a dragon and built Dragonsreach to house it. It's almost as old as our great mead hall."

"It looks to be made out of wood. Do you think that's a good idea to hold a dragon?" she said.

"Ha ha, I've never thought about it but you're right." Farkas chuckled. She liked his laugh. It was gravelly and low and it put her at ease. She noticed that he kept combing his fingers through his hair and short beard that looked to be singed. "Oh, uh, one of our shield brothers attempted to burn the beast with a fireball spell. I am not a fan of magic and spells, I prefer to use the strength the nine gave me, but Torvar is new and I think he was trying to impress us. He didn't aim too well and it caught me as it flew by. I wasn't exactly due for a haircut, but I think it's a good look for me." He said. They both laughed as Farkas continued to make his hair look more presentable.

A city guard stopped them as they reached the main gates. "Companion, you may enter, but you may not." He said looking at Jerien. "The city is closed with the dragons about. Official business only."

"I need to speak to the Jarl about the dragon attack at Helgen. I've been sent here by the people of Riverwood. They call for the Jarl's aid." Jerien pleaded with the guard.

"Riverwood is in danger too?" The guard thought for a moment then said, "Alright, you may enter. I believe the Jarl is still holding court. You should be able to get an audience with him if you hurry." He stepped aside so Jerien and Farkas could enter the city.

She followed Farkas as they were escorted through the gates. He headed straight past the blacksmiths forge and on to a well that was in the middle of a market area. Most of the vendors had already closed down for the night but a few were still offering their wares. He turned left and went up the stone steps that led to another level of the city. He veered to the right towards a huge hall that was built out of an overturned hull of a large ship. He stopped at the steps of the hall. "Jorrvaskr." He said with pride. "Home of the Companions."

"It's beautiful." Jerien said.

Farkas turned to her and gestured to the north. "Dragonsreach is past the Gildergreen and up those steps. You can see it from here." She looked in the direction he pointed towards and nodded.

"Thank you. I appreciate your help." Jerien could not think of anything else to say.

"Well, now that you know where I'm, uh..., where we're at, you are welcome to return anytime." Farkas said as he stumbled over his words.

Jerien smiled at him. "I'll do that." She didn't want this moment to end, but had a promise to keep to Gerdur and the people of Riverwood. "Until we meet again Farkas."

"Until we meet again Jerien." Farkas said. He watched her as she jogged away and up the stone steps. He didn't turn around and enter Jorrvaskr until she was completely out of his line of sight.

Jerien was surprised as no one stopped her from entering the great hall of Dragonsreach. She noticed that a handful of people were enjoying the evening meal: a slender man in black mages robes, three dark haired children and a stout warrior that was wearing scaled horned armor. She strode quickly and confidently past the long dining tables to the back far back wall where she saw a man with strawberry-blonde hair, wearing a gold circlet, sitting on an uncomfortable throne. There was no question he was the Jarl she was supposed to speak with. He was quite handsome and wore very fine clothing. He had a long lean face with a roman nose that was hard around the edges. His chin was strong but yet had a boyish dimple. He had a stately air about him that demanded respect. His brow was furrowed as though he was trying to solve a great problem in his mind. She was within ten yards of the Jarl when a dark elf female in leather armor stepped in front of her and drew her sword.

"What's the meaning of this interruption? Jarl Balgruuf is not receiving visitors and is not to be disturbed." She said defensively.

"I have been sent from Riverwood to give the Jarl word of the dragon attack from Helgen. It's urgent that I speak to him." Jerien said.

"Well, that explains why the guards let you in. Alright, you may speak to him, but keep your distance." The dark elf stepped aside, but didn't lower her sword. She was quite striking. Her dark grey skin brought out the deep ruby red of her almond shaped eyes and the fiery red of her hair and lips. Her features were sharp like most elves and she had the harsh look of someone who wasn't afraid of a fight.

Jerien stepped forward towards the Jarl. "I heard what you said to Irileth. You were at Helgen? You saw this beast with your own eyes?" he asked her.

"Yes. It destroyed Helgen and most everyone in it and then headed this way. I've come from Riverwood, it's defenseless. They sent me to ask for your aid." Jerien pleaded.

Irileth sheathed her sword and stepped forward. "My lord, we should send some troops to Riverwood at once. It's in the most immediate danger."

"You're right Irileth, some troops should be sent straight away." Balgruuf said. "Call up some of the reserves and have them…."

"My lord." A frail looking redguard male said as he interrupted the Jarl. "Are you sure you want to disperse our defenses? I mean, if there is a dragon headed this way, won't we need all available troops here? We should close the gates and fortify the city."

"I'll not stand idly by while a dragon burns my holds and slaughters my people, Proventus! As their Jarl I have sworn to protect them. Irileth, ready a detachment to be sent to Riverwood at once." Balgruuf yelled.

"It shall be done, my lord." Irileth nodded and walked towards the doors of the great hall, giving orders to the soldiers trotting to keep up with her.

"Well then, if I am no longer needed, I shall take my leave and return to my duties." The man called Proventus said. He wrinkled his long weasel like nose and stuck it in the air. For a Redguard he appeared to be very pale and sickly looking. His brown skin was stretched very taut over his gaunt face. His eyes looked bloodshot and sunken in and his thin lips were pressed together in a hard line. His hair, once a dark black, was now peppered with grey and looked very brittle and straw-like. He looked like someone who always had his long nose stuck in a book and never went outside.

"Thank you for bringing me this message. You have done my people a great service and this will not be forgotten. Come, break bread with me. You must be famished." The Jarl led her to one of the long tables as he bid his servants to put his children to bed. "Tell me more, what did the beast look like?" Jarl Balgruuf inquired.

Jerien told her tale to the Jarl, his brother and the court wizard as they sat, hanging on every word. "It was a giant brute with wings as black as the night. It spewed fire at anything that moved. It was like being in a nightmare that you couldn't wake up from. It was terrifying yet beautiful." Jerien said. The Jarl hung on every word she said. "Nothing seemed to stop it. It was a frightening yet magnificent display of power." She was going to continue but was interrupted by Irileth and another solider running up to the Jarl.

"My Jarl! Kenseth has news from the western watch tower! It's being attacked!" Irileth yelled.

"What!? Attacked? By whom?" Balgruuf demanded.

"Not by whom my Jarl, a what. A dragon! We, we saw it as we were going to relieve second sh-sh-shift from their duty. It was destroying the tower! It, it saw us and came after us. We ran b-but when I looked back….it picked up Martens as it flew over us! I-I-I don't know if he's alive or dead!" The young soldier was in obvious distress. He was shaking from head to toe and gasping for breath.

"What did it look like? What color was it?" Jerien asked.

"C-c-color? Uh, it was uh….r-r-red" the soldier said.

"Not black?" Jerien wanted to know.

"No, red….dark, blood red." Kenseth whispered.

"That's not the dragon that attacked Helen then. It's a different one. There's more of them." Everyone looked at Jerien, as if waiting for her to say or do something profound. She stared back at everyone and said nothing.

Jarl Balgruuf broke the silence. "I know that it would be a lot to ask of you as you have already escaped one attack, but you are the only one here that has any experience with a dragon. I ask you if you would help my soldiers deal with this situation." He paused, "I'll understand if you refuse."

Everyone was silent as they waited for Jeriens' answer. "Well, we're not going to kill a dragon from in here. Let's go." She finally said. Her decision scared the hell out of her, but she felt that she had to do something. She couldn't just let these soldiers run to their death. Jerien had no idea where this courage was coming from but it created a warm feeling deep inside her. She knew she was making the right decision.

"You're going to need some better armor and weapons then. Irileth, take her to the armory and give her something more suitable for a protector of Whiterun." The jarl said.

Chapter 6:

Jerien felt unusually calm as they jogged down the lane to the western watchtower. But she could feel the tension radiating off the other Whiterun soldiers as they coughed nervously or continually readjusted their armor and swords as they ran. She wished she knew of what to say to them to bolster their courage. She had never led any troops into battle before so she was relieved when Irileth stopped the guards and faced them.

"All right men, listen up! There is a dragon attacking the western watchtower. It made a mistake of attacking OUR home and we are going to stop it! I know many of you are probably afraid, but fear is Not Real. Fear is a choice! So is Bravery! This dragon is threatening our homes, our families. All of you are proud Nords and I know you will stop at nothing to protect your loved ones and your land! So let's prove to all of Skyrim that nothing can defeat Whiterun by sending this monster back to the hell from which it came!"

The soldiers cheered and raised their swords and bows up in the air. Jerien yelled along with them and held up her new elven bow. It was a little heavier than her previous bow that was made specifically for hunting game. But this bow was stronger so she should be able to shoot farther. The elven arrows that now filled her quiver were longer and lighter than the iron arrows it previously held. She had even dipped them in a poison she had made from the imp stool she collected earlier and some nighshade she found growing near the Hall of the Dead that they passed on the way to the armory. She would need every extra ounce of help she could get.

They slowed as they approached the watchtower, well, what used to be a watchtower. The entire top half of it was now laying in pieces on the ground. The path that led to the entryway was littered with burning chunks of wood. They saw no sign of the dragon.

"Help…" Jerien barely heard the word. It was dark and she couldn't tell where it was coming from. "Help…" she heard again, and saw a slight movement by some scrub bushes.

"By the Nine!" Jerien said as she stopped and looked down at the solder she found. Or what was left of him. His right arm was gone and blood was pouring from his shoulder. He had large puncture wounds all over his chest and his legs were bent at unnatural angles. Irileth was right behind her and knelt down on the other side of the man.

"Martens…" Irileth said in a soft voice.

"Captain…" the man replied. "It was…" he began to cough up blood and was unable to finish whatever he was going to say. He died a moment later, looking Irileth in the eyes. She took off her gauntlet and gently closed his eyes. Jerien could hear her whispering a prayer and wondered who she prayed to. The moment was interrupted by a loud roar.

"Let's get this bastard!" Irileth said as she stood and unslung her bow. "Fan out!"

The blood was pumping so hard in Jeriens' ears she barely heard what the Captain of the guards was saying. Her whole body shook and she instinctively knew the dragon was close. She looked to the west and saw the creature fly in and hover above the watch tower. It began to spit a stream of fire at some of the men that had decided to take shelter there. They were sitting ducks.

"Nooooooooo!" Jerien yelled as loud as she could. She pushed the words out of her lungs and out of her mouth as if they were a weapon. The dragon moved slightly in the air like a strong wind and blown into it. It immediately turned towards Jerien and screamed. "Fffooooolllll" she thought she heard it say.

'Fool?' Jerien thought to herself. 'Did that beast just call me a fool?' she didn't have any time to think about what she just heard as the dragon flew directly at her and hovered over her.

"DOOOVAAAHHH!" it yelled as it blew its fiery breath at her. She dove to the left and rolled down a small hill to avoid being burned alive. She immediately jumped to her feet with her bow in hand and let loose three arrows in quick succession. The first arrow bounced off the tough scales on his nose, but the next two lodged deep in its throat, right under its chin. The last arrow quickly disappeared into its body as it swallowed, ripping and tearing the soft inner tissue of its throat as the arrow made its way to the stomach of the beast. The dragon attempted to breathe fire again, but only a small spraying of flames came out. It shook its head and flew back around to land on the watch tower.

"Aim for the throat and stomach!" Jerien yelled at the soldiers. Some of her fellow warriors had already noticed that the neck and throat were vulnerable and began to concentrate all their arrows to those areas. Within a few minutes, the dragon had taken an arrow to the right eye and several more to its exposed underbelly. It tried to breathe fire again at the soldiers, but little came out. It whipped its head back and forth in frustration then flew back up into the air, into the dark night sky.

"Where did it go?" one solder yelled. All eyes were towards the sky trying to find where the dragon had gone. Dark clouds had covered up the moons and taken away any light, so it was difficult to see much of anything.

"Has it gone? Did it leave?" She heard others ask. "Should we go back to the city?" the soldier to her left asked.

"No, it's still here." Jerien didn't know how she knew that, she could just tell that the dragon had not left the area. She could feel its presence.

"Stay Ready!" Irileth shouted. Jerien turned towards her and saw dark wings swooping down out of the clouds to the east of them.

"There it is!" she cried and pointed.

The soldiers turned and let loose another volley of arrows as the monster dove down from above. It grabbed a soldier in its terrible jaws as it skimmed the ground and flew off with him.

"Nooooooooo!" Jerien yelled again at the brute. It moved in the air again as if being swatted by a giant invisible hand and it dropped the screaming man. It turned around and landed so hard, it shook the ground as it touched down. The soldiers continued to fire their arrows at the beast while Irileth slung her bow back over her shoulder and drew her battle axe. She rushed the creature from behind and started attacking its right wing, slashing the skin into ribbons.

The dragon whipped it head and tail about, knocking over several soldiers. It grabbed one of the men by his legs and started thrashing him about. His screams ripped through the night as the dragon then tipped its head up and swallowed him whole.

"Nooooooooooooo!" Jerien yelled at the creature with as much force as she could. This time she saw the energy flow from her mouth and hit the animal like a fist. The dragon was knocked to the ground by her invisible force. All the soldiers around her were momentarily stunned by this display of power, except Irileth. She took advantage of the pause in the battle and charged the monster. She embedded her battle axe as deep as she could into the beasts' neck. The Captain wrenched the weapon back and forth in a sawing motion. The dragon swung its head to the side and knocked the dark elf to the ground, but it was too late, the damage had been done. Dark, black blood poured from the gaping wound the axe had made. The creatures' bottom jaw was almost completely separated from its mouth, hanging on by a mere strip of hide. The dragon tried to bite at the Captain as she scrambled away, but its jaw did not respond and lay limp against its neck. It tried to roar but all that came out of its mouth was a river of blood and a sickening deep gurgling sound. Within a minute, the dragon bled out and lay dead on the ground.

No one said anything as they watched the animal die. Jerien walked towards it, arrow notched and ready. She kicked its nose with her foot and then jumped back ready to fire. The creature didn't move, it was not faking it. Satisfied that it was really dead, Jerien lowered her bow and began to turn around to speak with Irileth. That's when she felt a warm breeze surround her. She turned and faced the dragon again, thinking it was coming back to life. But what she saw surprised her even more.

The creature glowed with a warm yellow light. It began to erupt in soft orange flames as its flesh began to dissolve. The sight was the most beautiful Jerien had ever seen. Fire and light whirled around the dragon until only the bones were left. It rotated into a glowing orb that was almost as bright as the sun. It then flew straight at Jerien.

She had no time to react as the ball of flames engulfed her. It felt like it was burning every inch of her skin that was exposed. She was helpless as she was lifted slightly off the ground. The pain was excruciating. Every pore on her body was screaming as the flames found a way in. She felt the heat burn a path all the way to her core. A hot breath of air swirled around her, caressing her skin as she was lowered slowly back to the ground.

Jerien collapsed as her feet touched the scorched grass. She gulped at the sweet cool air. Her lungs felt as if they were still full of smoke and fire. She felt completely drained of energy but yet somehow felt so full of life. A tall, thin soldier came over to her and helped her back to her feet.

"I can't believe it. Y-you're….you're dragonborn…" he said as he looked at her in awe.

"What? What are you talking about?" Jerien asked. She was unsteady on her feet.

"You shouted at it in dragon speak. And then you took its soul once it was slain. That means you're dragonborn. You have the blood of the dragon within you."

She looked at the soldiers that surrounded her. They all had the same shocked and amazed looks on their faces. Everyone but Irileth. Her face showed no emotion, revealing nothing of what she was thinking.

"That's impossible. I couldn't be this dragonborn. I'm not…" but then Jerien thought about it. Mother. Martin Septim. He had altered her life more than she could have ever believed. "Dragonborn." She said. The men around her nodded and began mumbling.

"Greybeards…."

"Prophesy…."

"Chosen one….."

She heard bits and pieces of what they were saying but none of it made sense to her. She understood why they would think she was this dragonborn but she knew the truth.

"I don't know if I am this 'dragonborn' you speak of, but I know we have one dead dragon. Thanks to your Captain of the guard." Jerien said as she bowed her head to Irileth. "She ran in, regardless of her own safety and dealt the killing blow. She deserves your respect and adoration, not me."

"What do you think Captain?" asked the tall, thin soldier.

"What do I think?" Irileth said. "I think we took down a dragon. Now we know they can be killed. We've done something that hasn't been done in a thousand years. I know nothing of some mythical dragonborn but someone that can put down a dragon is more than enough for me."

"You wouldn't understand Captain, you ain't a Nord." The tall soldier said.

"So you have to be a Nord to believe in this fantasy? I have been all across Tamriel and have heard my fair share of tall tales and myths, some even more outlandish than this. I trust in the strength of your swords and bows over any legend or fable." The dark elf said. "I also know that we have injured men here that need our immediate help. So if you men are done gawking at this pile of bones, I suggest you help them."

The soldiers straightened up and dispersed to begin helping the wounded. Jerien walked over to the tall thin soldier and held out her hand to him. She whispered a healing spell and touched his upper left arm that was bleeding. His injury shrank from a gaping tear to a small scratch. He looked up at her and smiled. "Thanks." He said.

"You two" Irileth said looking at Jerien and the soldier. "Come here. Someone needs to return to the Jarl and inform him of our victory. Have him send reinforcements to help carry the wounded back to the city. Go now and be quick about it."

"Yes Captain!" They both said in unison and began running back to Whiterun.

They jogged in an awkward silence for a few minutes. The solider couldn't keep his eyes from Jerien. He tripped a few times because he was not watching where he was going. "What?!" She finally said in frustration.

"I..I'm sorry. I don't mean to be rude, but I, I just can't believe what I saw…what you just did. I thought it was just a fairytale. A bedtime story." The soldier said. "And to see it with my own eyes….I'm just still trying to understand all this."

The soldiers' confession continued to make Jerien feel uncomfortable. He seemed to feel chatty so she decided to get information from him. "What do you know about this Dragonborn?" she asked.

"My grandfather used to tell me stories about it when I was just a babe. In the oldest days, over a thousand years ago, some were born with the blood of the dragon within them. It is said that they would slay dragons and absorb their power, their soul. Legend has it that Tiber Septim himself was dragonborn."

"Irileth was the one that dealt the killing blow. Wouldn't that make her dragonborn?" Jerien asked.

"No. Anyone can kill the body of the dragon, but its soul will still live on. That's where the dragonborn comes in. They take its spirit, its power. It can't return without a soul." The soldier stopped and looked at Jerien as she began to shake. It felt like the ground was going to break apart under her feet.

"DOOOOH-VAAAAAH-KIIIIIN!"

"What Was That?!" Jerien yelled.

"Did you hear that! That's the Greybeards calling to you! Everything my grandfather told me was true! You Are Dragonborn." The soldier said as he beamed at her.

"The Greybeards? Who are they?" she asked.

"They are very old and wise men that are masters of the voice. They shout like you do. They live up on the tallest mountain in Skyrim. If they have summoned you, you must go." The soldier said as he nodded at her.

Jerien thought about it. Whoever these Greybeards were, she was hoping they would be able to help her figure out what was happening. She would explain to them what happened two hundred years ago. She would let them know she couldn't possibly be this 'dragonborn' of legend. That all of this was just a big mistake.

"You're right, I must go. But first, we need to speak with the Jarl. We need to get help sent to the men at the western watchtower." Jerien said as they began to run faster towards the city.

This time no one stopped her as she ran up to the gate keepers. They even held the door open as she jogged up to them. The market place was empty and they saw no one else other than guards walking their rounds. The soldier didn't follow her as she continued on to Dragonsreach. He entered what he called a 'Temple of the Divines' that was directly across the square from Jorrvaskr. He said he was going to wake the priestess there to see if she can help.

Jerien didn't see anyone in the main hall as she entered Dragonsreach. She looked in a room off to the right of the throne and saw the court wizard talking with someone. She could tell the stranger was female but her face was obscured by a leather hood that matched her dark leather armor.

"It was exactly where you said it would be, but how did you know it would be in the Barrow in the first place?' the wizard asked the woman. He spoke with a feminine sounding voice that had a slight lisp to it.

"Never you mind that." She said. Her voice was deep, clear and strong. "My employer has paid you and your hired men well for the stone and would prefer to remain anonymous. But they need some answers. The clock is ticking Farengar. You can translate it, can't you? " The woman said.

"Of course I can. It might take a little bit for this language is very old, first era or earlier probably. But the Jarl has taken a fresh interest in my research due to the recent sightings so I will be able to devote all my time to it and…." The wizard looked towards the open door and noticed Jerien was eavesdropping on their conversation. "Do you mind?" He said.

"I was looking for the Jarl. He's not in the main hall."

"Well, he's obviously not here." The wizard said sarcastically. "If he's not in the main hall, look for him up the stairs at the forum table. Or if you feel like getting run through by his guards, his bed chamber is the floor above that. Unless…that is your purpose." He sneered, dismissing her with a flip of his wrist. Jerien immediately disliked the man. He had an air of entitlement that seemed to choke those around him. His nose was stuck in the air so high, that Jerien was sure he would drown if he went out in the rain.

She turned and left the room before she said something she would regret. As she reached the throne, the stout Nord from dinner was coming down the stairway to the right. "We were just talking about you. My brother has been waiting for news. Come with me." He gruffly said as he turned and went back up the stairs. Jerien followed him up the steps, taking two at a time to keep up with him, and saw Jarl Balgruuf pacing behind a great oaken desk with a map of Skyrim carved into it.

"What happened? Was the dragon there?" he asked impatiently.

"The dragon destroyed the watchtower. We managed to slay it, but a few men were killed and many were wounded. They need aid." Jerien said.

"Proventus!" the Jarl yelled.

The sickly looking advisor must have been hiding around the corner because he immediately appeared. "Yes my Jarl?" he said.

"Assemble some healers from the temple and go to the watchtower immediately. Take Farengar with you. He can help in healing those too dire to move."

"You mean for me to go? My Jarl, I would be much more helpful to you here by your side…" Proventus started to argue.

"Do as I say! Go Now!" Balgruuf barked at the man.

"As you wish, my Jarl." Proventus meekly said and scuttled off.

Jarl Balgruuf rubbed the bridge of his nose as the redguard disappeared down the stairs. "Proventus truly is a valued advisor. His intelligence and ability to see patterns and strategy is beyond measure. He just doesn't care for manual labor and would prefer to delegate that responsibility. Once he is out amongst the injured men, he will take charge and coordinate everything as efficiently as possible."

Jerien nodded and kept quiet, not knowing if she was required to speak right now and also not knowing what to say if she was. She finally spoke, "Something happened when the dragon was killed."

"What do you mean, something happened?" the Jarl asked as his head snapped up.

Jerien swallowed hard and continued. "Everyone fought bravely, especially Irileth. I, I yelled at it and it somehow affected it, but she dealt the killing blow and took the creatures life. But after that, after it took its last breath… its soul….I…" She stopped and looked Balgruuf directly in his eyes. "I absorbed its soul. Your men called me….dragonborn."

"Dragonborn? So it's true. The summons we all heard. It was the Greybeards calling for you. They beckon you to the Throat of the World, to their citadel at High Hrothgar. If you really are dragonborn, you must go. They will train you in the way of the voice." The Jarl said as he rubbed his chin. He cleared his throat and continued. "You have done a great service to me and my city, Dragonborn. By my right as Jarl, I name you Thane of Whiterun. It's the greatest honor that is within my power to grant. You are to be given a weapon suitable to your new status and I grant you the right to buy property in my city. You would be a welcome addition to Whiterun. I also will grant you a housecarl once you secure a property. They will be sworn to protect you and carry your burdens. The guards will also be notified of your new title. You will be granted certain amenities that the lower class is not privy to." The Jarl sighed in exhaustion and said, "Now if you will kindly excuse me. I need to meet my men as they return. You are more than welcome to stay and rest before you leave for High Hrothgar. Our sleeping quarters are off to the left, there." He pointed to a set of large wooden doors to the side.

As the Jarl walked away, his brother walked up to her. He had similar features like the Jarl. The same Roman nose, same dimple to the chin. "I know of a warm bed that is available to you, if you would like, dragonborn." He said as the right side of his mouth went up in a slight smile. He was thick and stout with a shaved head. His reddish brown beard was well kept, braided and tied with a white cord. He was hefty and rugged looking, his face and arms were battle scarred. Surprisingly they didn't take away from his looks, they intensified them. His eyes were darker than the other Nords she had met. Bedroom eyes. She returned his smile.

"Life is short here in Skyrim, isn't it? That's what I've heard." she said.

"Aye, it is. You learn to enjoy what you can, when you can." He said as he let her through the door to the sleeping quarters.

Chapter 7:

Jerien left the next day at mid-morning. She was equipped with her new elven war axe (a gift from the Jarl to show her new status as thane) and someone had shined her armor during the night. Some of the scorch marks from when she absorbed the dragons' soul were still visible. She was surprised that none of her skin showed any burns or redness. Hrongar had checked every inch of her last night to make sure she had no other injuries, or so he said.

The Jarl had loaned her a sturdy black steed from his stables to aid her in her journey to find the Greybeards. He also gave her a map that encompassed all of Skyrim with her destination marked on it. It had all the major cities and most of the minor ones on it. It was almost impossible for her to see the east and west border at the same time unless she stretched her arms as far as she could. Skyrim was indeed vast.

In the middle of the map was her destination: The Throat of the World. Jarl Balgruuf told her the only way up to High Hrothgar was to go up the 7,000 steps. He himself had made the journey years ago. The path started at a small town called Ivarstead. As the crow flies, it was almost directly across from where she was now. But she was not a crow nor could she fly so she had to go north or south around it. It was going to be over a days journey either way. Jerien had asked a few people which roads were more popular. Most of them told her the North route was the way to go. Her reasoning was that she wanted to stay off the well-known paths for now to avoid running into the high elf inquisitor.

So on a dreary, rainy morning she left Whiterun and headed south. This route would also take her back by Riverwood and she wanted to let Gerdur and Hod know the Jarl was going to send extra troops to aid them in case of a dragon attack.

Jerien kept one eye on the sky and one on the path ahead of her for any signs of dragons or other dangers. She reached Riverwood without incident and in a rather short period of time. The rain had stopped and the sun was threatening to break through the clouds. As she dismounted, she saw Hod laboring at the lumber mill. She walked over the wooden bridge that connected Riverwood to the small island that the mill occupied. He looked up and waved at her as she walked up.

"Good to see you friend! How was your journey to Whiterun?" he asked.

"More eventful than I was hoping for." Jerien replied. Gerdur walked up and gave her a hug as she began to fill them in on everything that had happened in the twenty four hours since she had last seen them.

"Another dragon! My goodness! And so close to us." Gerder exclaimed.

"Don't worry, the Jarl said he would be sending more troops. Hopefully they will be here later today. And now at least we know that they can be killed."

"Yeah but without you here to take their soul, what good will it do? Hod asked.

"It will do a lot of good Hod. I doubt that a dragons' soul can reproduce its body very quickly. Hopefully by that time I will have learned everything I can from the Greybeards and figure out a way to put a stop to all of this." Jerien looked Gerdur in the eyes and continued, "I will do everything in my power to make Skyrim safe again."

"Thank you. You are a blessing to us all. I'm glad my brother brought you into our lives." Gerder said as she reached over and squeezed Jeriens' shoulder.

"By the way, where is Ralof?"

Gerdur sighed and said, "He left for Windhelm early this morning. I didn't really clear him for travel, but he was being hard headed and wouldn't listen to me. He was adamant that he needed to get to Ulfric as fast as he could. I just pray that his stitches hold. He's said he was going to visit some of the Stormcloak camps along the way to make sure they know that dragons have returned to Skyrim." She shook her head and looked north to the road that lead out of town.

"I'm sure he'll be fine." Jerien said, trying to ease Gerdurs worried mind. "Oh and here, I wanted to repay you for the armor and spell books you gave me." She handed the other woman a small coin bag. "It's not much, only 75 septims. I don't know when the next time I will be back through this area, but I can bring you more if that's not enough."

Gerdur smiled and said, "It's more than enough. I gave you those items as a gift so you really don't owe us anything, but thank you. And your cheek! There's hardly a scar."

"Yeah, I guess I've learned a few more tricks since I last saw you." She gave Gerdur and Hod another hug before she mounted her horse and continued on her journey south.

The sun came out and made the temperature rise. Jerien debated on shedding some of her armor to make herself more comfortable. She finally decided to take off her helmet and stuffed it in her pack. She then removed her cuirass as she rode and tied it to her horses' saddle. It was much cooler without the heavy plates trapping the heat in.

After a few hours, she came to a fork in the road. Some of the signs had been ripped off of a post that stood off to the side that was supposed to guide travelers on their journey. Jerien checked her map, looked at the sign and checked the position of the sun. She had been heading south for quite some time without referencing her map but easily found where she was. She sighed in slight frustration thinking she should be farther to her destination since she was on horseback, but she hadn't wanted to over exert the animal. Jerien looked around and noticed a dirt path heading northeast that looked to be a shortcut that led up and through the mountain. It wasn't clearly marked on her map, but decided to take it anyway.

The path wound up the mountain and was a harsh incline at times. She apologized to the black horse, knowing that he was beginning to pant and sweat from the exertion. Jerien was beginning to regret her decision for taking this trail. It really hit home that she had made a bad choice of roads when she came upon a small camp. There were two battered tents haphazardly leaning up against a sheer rock face where the path dead ended. A man was turning a spit over a small campfire. He was roasting a skeever. The smell made Jerien wrinkle her nose.

The man jumped up and yelled at her, "That's close enough! Back off!" He unslung his long bow and notched an arrow as he did so. His appearance made Jerien grimace. He had a dark tint to his skin like he was part Redguard but she assumed it was just a buildup of dirt and grime. His head was shaved and he had small beady eyes and crooked teeth that made her think of the rat-like skeever. His armor was miss-matched, blood stained and did not fit him right. It looked as if he had taken it off of a dead body. That's when she realized that she had stumbled onto a bandit camp.

"Sorry, I..uh, must have taken a wrong turn. I'll be going now. Good day to you." Jerien said as she began to back her horse down the trail.

"No. Wait. No. It's me who should be sorry." The man said as he took a closer look at her. "Please, come and join us, Pretty Pretty, will you?" he said. He licked his lips greedily and it sent a shiver down Jerien's spine. "You must be tired and hungry. Come, rest a while, join us." He lowered his bow and began to slowly walk towards her with his hand out, as if she was a frightened animal and he didn't want to spook her.

"Oh, no thank you. I…I don't want to bother you. I'm in such a dreadful hurry anyway." She turned her horse around and saw another man step out from behind a tree twenty yards downhill. He was almost completely blocking the path. He was just as dirty and filthy looking as his friend, only taller, and with a hungrier look to him.

"Oh I don't think it would be a bother to have you for dinner. Will it Baldmar?" he said with a sneer. He looked around Jerien and her horse and smiled and nodded at his friend. "And it's been oh so long since we've been able to enjoy someone's company." Jerien had no idea what he meant by that but she didn't want to find out. She had to figure a way out of this and fast.

She turned the horse back around towards Baldmar and used all her magica to shoot two fire balls from her hands in quick succession. It caught the bandit off guard and engulfed him in flames. The fire spread across his fur armor like a hungry snake. Unfortunately he was able to release the arrow he had re-notched and she heard her horse shriek as it struck it in the chest. The animal reared up on its hind legs, knocking Jerien off backwards onto the ground and knocking the wind out of her. It ran off down the trail, past the other bandit as he was charging up the path. He swung his huge war hammer at her steed and hit its right front leg. The horse screamed and stumbled slightly but the blow didn't stop it. It only slowed the animal as it continued limping down the trail.

The bandit, pleased with himself for injuring the animal, looked back at Jerien with a huge grin on his face. He raised his weapon above his head and yelled at her as he began to run back up the path. Jerien unsheathed her dagger and threw it at the bandit as she sat up.

He grunted as he dropped the heavy war hammer. He stared at the steel dagger protruding from his left armpit. "Not a bad throw, Pretty Pretty. Now it's my turn." He grabbed the handle, now slick with his own blood and pulled it out from his body. He began slowly walking towards Jerien, closing the gap between them. "I wonder if you'll squeal like your pretty pony, eh? I like it when they scream."

Jerien could sense that her magic was still low after her previous attack on the other bandit. She didn't have the time it would take for it to replenish itself on its own and she didn't think the bandit would give her a time out to drink a magica potion. She would have to fight it out with this brute.

She didn't take her eyes of him as she slowly stood up. "Tsk, tsk, you're just wasting energy Pretty. You know I'm just going to get you on your back again…" The bandit squished his lips together and blew Jerien a kiss. He continued his slow and deliberate walk towards her. She just knew he would get close to her and then try and pounce on her. She put her hand on her war axe and waited until he was just a few yards from her. He stopped and winked and then made his move. Jerien waited just a moment longer before she spun around to her right, holding her weapon with both hands. She swung her axe with all her might, aiming for where his neck joined his smelly, hairy body. She could feel as the blade made its way through his flesh and out the other side. The bandit turned and stared at her for a breath or two before he fell. His body collapsed to the ground at her feet as his head rolled and bounced down the hill.

It took her a minute to catch her breath. Her entire body was shaking with adrenaline. She just killed a man. 'I had no choice' she said, reasoning with herself. 'He would have…he would have…' She shook her head to rid her mind of the next thought. She took a deep breath and calmed herself before she kneeled down and decided to search the body for valuables. All she found was a cheap silver ring and a few septims. As she got back to her feet, she heard whimpering coming from the fire pit. She had almost forgotten about the other bandit. Jerien grabbed the headless corpse's heavy war hammer and drug it over to where the charred body of the other bandit was still smoldering. He was staring wide eyed up at her. Well, he had no choice. One eye was burnt black and the other no longer had an eye lid. Jerien knew that these men had probably committed deplorable crimes and deserved no pity, but she couldn't leave him to die slowly and painfully like this. She raised the massive weapon over her head and let its own weight fall down onto the skull of the man, crushing it flat.

She looked around the makeshift camp and found a backpack with a few items in it: 46 septims, a potion of health and stamina, a few lock picks, a blacksmiths apron and a book titled 'The Lusty Argonian Maid'. Jerien opened it and read a few paragraphs. She blushed at some of the vulgar language she read and put the book at the bottom of the satchel. She also found an old chest that was locked. She broke 3 lock picks before she had it open, but its contents were meager too: An iron cuirass (which she happily put on since hers was somewhere at the bottom of the mountain still attached to her injured horse), another steel dagger, a fur helmet, and various potions. She put everything in the backpack and started down the hill to find her horse.

Halfway down the trail, Jerien began to see spots of blood. It upset her that her trusty steed had been injured. Especially since that headless dung heap took so much pleasure in harming it. She reached the fork in the road and saw that the blood trail went southeast. She was surprised that she hadn't happened upon her horse yet. The poor animal must be weak, tired, and scared to death. She continued on, following the path of blood as it wove its way south on the road when she came to Helgen. Jerien stopped and stared, unable to move for a few minutes. This is where it all started. Right here. She didn't know if she wanted to cry, scream or kneel and pray to the Nine Divines. All she knew is that she didn't want to be here anymore. She took the path around the city and did her best not to be noticed by the people she heard behind its walls.

The blood trail became spotty and harder to see the further east she went. It eventually veered off into another narrower path that split off from the main road. As she walked, she noticed man-made rock formations that looked to be splattered with blood and decorated with human bones. Jerien had a bad feeling about this, but she had to continue. She couldn't leave her horse or her gear behind, no matter how uneasy she felt.

After following the path for a few minutes, she heard a horrible shriek coming from close ahead of her. She crouched down and held her breath trying to figure out where it came from. She heard it again off to her left. She pulled her bow over her head and notched an arrow as she slowly sneaked towards where the sound was coming from. She soon came to a path leading up and around a large freestanding cliff. The horrible sound was coming from the top of it. She began to creep up the narrow path, making her way to the summit. As she reached the top of the footpath, the sound stopped. She peeked over a large felled tree that was serving as a bridge from where she was hiding to the top of the rock and what she saw repulsed her.

A huge birdlike creature was feasting on her horse. Its nose was long and pointed like a beak while its mouth was humanlike and dripping with blood. It was ripping and tearing flesh off of the animal with bony hands that ended in razor sharp claws and eating huge chunks of meat whole. Its gray skinny body was almost skeletal. She could see the creatures' tendons and veins poking out of its taut skin. It had long straw-like black hair on its head and tufts of black and gray feathers sprouting from various places on its body. It looked to be vaguely female and wore only a tattered loin cloth.

Three black robed women of various age, were off to the side watching the creature eat. They didn't seem offended by what they were seeing, but instead were smiling and enjoying the carnage.

"See! I told you mother would like it!" the youngest of the women said. She was staring wide eyed at the creature as it tore off another chunk of the horse. "I found it wandering all by itself by the ruined town. I knew it would be perfect for mother because it was injured and would be submissive. Now she will get her strength back!"

"Bringing her a snack doesn't mean she'll favor you now. I know she still remembers that Imperial girl you let escape last month." the oldest and ugliest of the three said. "She knows who has earned the gift, and it won't be you!"

"Ha! Just because you already look like a hagraven doesn't mean that you get to be one!" the middle hag retorted. "Mother has been teaching me new spells that she hasn't taught either of you. She obviously knows that I have a talent above and beyond your mediocrity. She's just keeping you two around to do the menial tasks for us. Stand back where you belong." She smiled while taking a step closer to the hagraven, as if to put the others figuratively and literally behind her.

Jerien watched the scene in front of her, trying to figure out a plan to get her belongings back. It was too late to save her horse, but she needed her pack and armor.

The older hag turned and looked at the woman before her with such hatred. She pushed the woman with all her might and sent her flying towards an animal skin hut that was in the center of the rock. "Who are you to speak to me that way? I have been following mothers' teachings since before you could CAST! You have no idea of what knowledge I possess. You are nothing compared to me!" she screamed. She ran over to where her sister was attempting to get up and began to scratch and claw at her face.

"You dare raise your hand to me?! I should burn you alive for such insolence!" the other hag yelled as she fought back.

The youngest witch watched her two siblings with a satisfied grin on her face. They were all unaware that Jerien had notched a poison dipped arrow and was holding her breath in preparation to shoot. She let the arrow fly and it hit the young hag in her neck, preventing her from screaming or making any sounds. She grasped at her throat and tried to speak, but nothing came out. She fell over backwards and tumbled down the side of the cliff.

The other two hags didn't notice their sisters' disappearance, but the hagraven did. It looked up from its feast and sniffed the air. The creature turned around and looked at the fighting women. "Eeeenough!" it said in a raspy, gravelly voice. "Where is Yaaa-naaa?" it asked them. Both women instantly stood up at attention. They looked at where the younger woman had been standing before their fight and then looked back at each other.

"S-s-she was there mother, just a moment ago." The older hag said pointing to where the dead witch previously stood. The creature limped over and peered down at where the woman's body had slid down the side of the rock. The hagraven screamed with fury and yelled, "Sssshe issss there! Dead! Assssassssin! Find him!" The two remaining hags ran over the tree bridge but did not see Jerien hunkered down behind a bush. One went down the path towards her sister's dead body and the other ran into the trees. Both had their hands up and glowing with a spell on the ready.

The hagraven was still looking down at its dead follower. Jerien didn't want to lose the element of surprise and shot two arrows into the beasts back. It squawked like a crow as it turned towards where she was hiding. Jerien let loose two more that hit its left leg and abdomen. They slowed the creature but not as much as she was hoping. It just looked really pissed now. The hagraven didn't know where the volley of arrows had come from so it began throwing fire balls in every direction. One hit the bush where Jerien was hiding and burst into flames. "Heeeee's here! Heeeee's clooosssse!" it screeched.

Jerien had no choice but to leave her hiding place. She knew as soon as she did so, the hagraven would see her and she would be done for. She would have to be quick. She rolled to the right, stood up and honed in on where she thought the beast's heart was and released another poison tipped arrow. It hit the hagraven with so much force that only an inch of the shaft was sticking out of its chest. The creature took a sharp breath in and looked down at what struck it. Two more arrows embedded themselves in the same spot as the hagraven looked up with a stunned look on its face. It blinked a couple of times and then collapsed in an ungraceful heap.

Jerien didn't have time to congratulate herself on defeating the creature. Almost as soon as she revealed herself, the oldest hag had seen her. The witch screamed with rage as she saw Jerien kill her mother. She released a wall of ice and frost that hit Jerien square in the back and made her bend forward in shock. It was like getting a bucket of freezing cold ice water dumped on her, but it didn't freeze her solid like it did all the plant life at her feet. She realized that the hag was expecting her to be frozen though, so she didn't move a muscle other than to put her hand on the hilt of her dagger. The witch ran over and stepped in front of Jerien. As soon as she saw the hags feet, Jerien grabbed her and thrust her knife up under the womans rib cage. She held the woman close to her and twisted the dagger back and forth to make sure she was doing the most damage. The witch clawed and bit at Jerien until her eyes rolled back into her head as she bled out internally.

"Thank you, I've been wanting to do that for ages now." Jerien turned and saw the middle aged hag walking up the path. "That ignorant bitch has been a thorn in my side for too long."

Jerien pulled her dagger from the dead woman's body and let it fall to the ground. She faced the witch and took up a fighting stance: her dagger in one hand and a fire ball ready to throw in the other.

"Whoa. Peace sister. I mean you no harm." The witch said as she continued up the path. "I know you have no reason to trust me, but I have no intentions of harming you. Especially now that you have eliminated all of my dead weight. You have done me a great favor and I would like to reward you. No tricks. I can see that you are not one to be trifled with."

"You want to reward me? After I killed your sisters and the hagraven?" Jerien asked.

"Oh, they weren't my real sisters, but I think you know that. And as for Riaka, she was old and on the verge of death. She could teach me no more and was too weak to transfer her power. I've been biding my time for weeks now. You've saved me a lot of time and effort. Not to mention the hassle and ingredients I would have had to use to poison them all. No, you have earned a reward. I am a master alchemist and conjurer. I could teach you about mixing potions and increase your knowledge of conjuration if you'd like." The witch stopped at the top of the path and patiently waited for Jeriens' answer.

Jerien thought about it for a few minutes and said, "Alright, but if you try to trick me, I will sever your head from your body and burn your carcass."

"Sounds fair enough." The hag replied. "And I'm guessing that was your horse that my sister sacrificed to Riaka. I'm sorry, but it was severely wounded and I don't think it could have been saved. There are a few magical weapons in the mothers' chest if you would like to take them for compensation."

Jerien kept her distance while the witch gave her a tutorial in conjuring up a familiar. She had never attempted any conjuring spells and it took her a little while to catch on. Her familiar was a medium sized wolf while the hags' was a slender woman that seemed to be made of flames that floated around and did back flips in the air. By the end of the lesson, Jeriens was able to control her familiar for up to a minute before it disappeared. The hag also taught her a soul trap spell she could use to charge soul gems for the new magical sword she had found in a chest in the hagravens' hut. It had a frost enchantment that would do extra damage to foes. It fit perfectly in her hand and Jerien liked it immediately. There was also another magical weapon she found, a dagger. It had a different, bizarre feel, and vibrated slightly like it was alive. It was of a dark, shiny, unfamiliar metal. It had an unnatural curved blade, and was cold to the touch. Jerien wrapped it tightly in leather and hid it at the bottom of her pack.

She could sense that the lessons were over and the witch was gathering her possessions in preparation to leave. "Why didn't your sisters' frost spell harm me like it did everything around me?" Jerien wanted to know.

The witch laughed a little at her but then realized that Jerien really didn't know. "You're a Nord, aren't you? How do you not know this?" the hag asked.

"I wasn't born here. My…my parents didn't really tell me a lot about where I came from or anything about my ancestry." Jerien said quietly.

The witch thought about it for a second and said, "Well, simply put, people of your race have an extra resistance built in, so to say, against the cold. You are able to withstand much lower temperatures than a Breton, such as I, or Imperial or an Elf. I'm not saying that the cold won't harm you, just that you will not incur as much damage from it. When my sister hit you with that frost spell, your 'Nordic gift' kept you from freezing solid like it did the foliage around you. If she had half a brain, she would have noticed that about you and used something more damaging, like fire or shock. If you haven't found out yet, Nords are a little more susceptible to sparks … they … will take your breath away, so to speak." The hag smiled as she told Jerien this, and the Nordwoman decided to made a mental note of it.

Jerien was surprised that the witch seemed to be understanding and considerate of her ignorance. She could have been cruel with her answer, but wasn't. "If you don't mind me asking, why were you worshipping that hagraven? They seem like evil and vile creatures and you don't appear to me to be that kind of person. You don't seem …wicked… like the other witches."

"Ha ha ha, that's very sweet of you to say." The hag said. "Don't get me wrong, little Nord, I can be just as nasty and more so as my dearly departed sisters. But I know what it's like to be on the other end of blind malice. They killed indiscriminately and were crueler than they needed to be. I seek knowledge and power, my dear. And hagravens are very powerful beings. They pass on everything they know to a chosen daughter. All their knowledge of alchemy, destruction, conjuration, illusion, and alteration. Everything. Mark my words: I will find another to follow and once I gain her favor and enough strength, I will convince her to change me. Then I will be the dominant one and no one will ever harm me again."

Jerien could sense an internal conflict within the woman. "Thank you." She said. "For your teachings and your honesty. What will you do now, where will you go?"

"I will go west, back home to Markarth, to find my real sister, Petra. You best be on your way too. Good luck to you little Nord. I pray that we never meet again, no offense." The witch said.

"None taken. I will not forget you…uh…huh…I don't even know your name." Jerien said.

"Melka." The hag replied.

Chapter 8:

Jerien debated with herself for an hour or so about where to sleep for the night. She figured that the hagravens' shelter was one of the safest places to sleep in the entire area and reluctantly bedded down for the night in the animal skin hut. It wasn't the best night's sleep she'd ever had, but it was rest. She left at dawn the next morning. Her pack was stuffed with as much weight as she could carry. She scavenged everything she possibly could from the camp and took literally everything that wasn't tied down.

After about a half hour of walking east she came upon a Stormcloak guard walking the perimeter of a camp. "Halt! Who goes there?" he yelled.

"No one, just me." Jerien said. She held her hands up in submission as he walked towards her with his sword out.

"Who are you?" he roughly asked. "Stormcloak or Imperial?"

"Uhhh, neither, neutral. No affiliation." She stood still, waiting on further instructions from the guard.

He walked up to her, "What business do you have around here?" he asked as he gave her a once over.

"I'm a pilgrim on my way to Ivarstead to walk the 7,000 steps." Jerien said.

"Pilgrim, eh? You look pretty heavily armored for a pilgrim." He questioned.

"I would be a fool to not be weaponed and armored now a days. I ran into some bandits and witches a while back. I wouldn't be here if I had relied on their good will and charity."

"Hmmm, true." The guard agreed.

"I have weapons and goods for trade also." Jerien said as she opened her satchel. The guard peered in and nodded his head.

"Weapons for trade, eh? Alright, but I've got my eye on you. No funny business. The smithy is on the south side of the camp. Barter your wares and then be on your way." The sentry stepped aside and followed her to the perimeter of the camp before he turned back around to return to his patrol.

Jerien had never been in a war camp before. It wasn't as grand as her imagination thought it would be. There were a dozen or so small tents for the soliders and two larger shelters for which she guessed were for the officers. Another shelter off to the side was obviously a medical tent. She could hear the wounded cry out in pain from within. Jerien walked directly to the largest of the tents and saw a large blonde man in what looked to be bear skin armor. She strode up to him and informed him that dragons have returned to Skyrim. "Yes, we've been told so just recently by a messenger. How do you know of this?" Jerien wasn't sure if she should tell this stranger about her new found ability so she informed him that she was at Helgen when it happened. "I was in line with Ulfric Stormcloak himself and several of his soldiers at the headsman's block when it dropped down out of the sky. I am making my way around Skyrim to make sure her people know if this new danger."

"I thank you. Talos guide you." The officer said has he put his fist over his heart. Jerien nodded and left the tent.

The blacksmith wasn't hard to find, she just followed the sound of a pounding hammer. "Would you be interested in buying some armor or weapons?" She asked the smith as she walked up.

"Sure, we're always in need of good steel." He said. They haggled over the prices of various pieces of armor and weapons Jerien offered. He even bought some of the odds and ends for a couple of septims. He was actually quite happy to purchase the risqué book she'd found. He even began to read it as Jerien tucked her coins in her bag and started to walk out of the camp. He told her as she walked away, "If you know any true sons or daughters of Skyrim, tell them to head to Windhelm. Tell them Ulfric is waiting for them."

The rest of Jerien's journey to Ivarstead went smoothly, other than encountering a couple bears. She reached the town by afternoon. She decided to visit the tavern to get some food and drink and to hopefully get some more information about High Hrothgar before she attempted the climb.

The Vilemyr Inn was quite busy. There was only one stool available at the counter. The proprietor came up to her and introduced himself. "Good afternoon traveler. I'm Wilhelm, I run this establishment. What can I get you?"

Jerien ordered a seared slaughterfish fillet (the special of the day), grilled leeks with bread, cheese and ale. As Wilhelm served it to her he asked what her business was in these parts. "I'm on my way up the 7,000 steps to High Hrothgar to see the Greybeards. Is there anything you can tell me about them?"

"Ah yes, a lot of my business is from travelers passing through on their way up the 7,000 steps. It's an honored path that calls to many. Most of those who attempt the pilgrimage up never make it to the top though. And those that do, have all returned disappointed without ever even laying eyes the Greybeards. They are a solitary lot and have never let anyone enter their monastery in my time."

Jerien smiled to herself knowing that she would be the exception to the norm. She finished her meal, sold her bear pelts to a disgruntled woman sitting to her left that was grumbling about the beasts, and left the crowded inn. She headed north to the bridge that would take her to the first of the 7,000 steps. As she came to the bridge she saw a man and an elf talking.

"On your way up the steps today Klimmek?" the elf asked.

"Oh, not today, I'm afraid. My leg has not healed from that blasted ice wolf I ran into last time. I don't think I will be able to make it for a few weeks yet." The Nord replied.

"Aren't the Greybeards expecting their supplies though? You always make the trip every month. It's been almost two since your last delivery, hasn't it?" the elf said.

"Yes, I know, but I just can't make it right now. I know they need the provisions, but I can't risk any further injury. I can't risk not returning to Fastred. I'll just give them twice the items next time. They'll be ok, won't they?" Klimmek said, but he didn't sound so sure.

Jerien spoke up and said, "I'm on my way to High Hrothgar, I could take the supplies for you."

"You're going all the way to the monastery?" He asked as Jerien nodded. "All the way up? You know many people say they are, but return shamefully after half a day."

"I can guarantee you that I will not stop until I reach High Hrothgar. The Greybeards will get their supplies."

"That would be so kind of you, I'd appreciate it." Klimmek quickly limped back towards the town and returned with a satchel that was full to the brim a few minutes later. It wasn't as heavy as she thought it would be. Klimmek noticed her surprise on the weight of the pack. "It's mostly dry and salted meats, dried fish, bread, carrots and some cheese. You know, things that keep a long time. The Greybeards don't tend to get out much, if you catch my meaning. Sometimes I throw in some fresh apples or tomatoes. I'm not sure if they appreciate it or not, but it gives me a good feeling." Klimmek patted her on the back and said, "Thank you friend," as he began to walk back to town.

Jerien took a deep breath and crossed the bridge to begin her journey. She had to crane her neck all the way back to be able to look up at the mountain. 'No turning back now.' She said to herself as she took the first steps to High Hrothgar, to her destiny.

Before Jerien had gone seven hundred steps (she counted), she had been attacked by three skeevers, two black wolves, and a huge white spider that dripped a freezing poison from its fangs and spit venom. She finally reached a landing that had a stone arch on it. A tablet was etched in the arch and it read, 'Before the birth of men, the Dragons ruled all Mundus. Their word was the Voice, and they spoke only for True Needs. For the Voice could blot out the sky and flood the land.'

Jerien didn't know if she was supposed to feel something profound after reading the epitaph, but nothing spectacular happened to her. She didn't feel a warmth, or see a glow, or hear anything unusual. She wondered if it was broken. She continued on and reached the second arch without incident. A middle aged, dark haired Nord wearing simple hide armor was standing in front of the tablet. A felled deer was on the ground to his right. He had his head down as if he was praying. He looked up as Jerien reached the platform he was on. He nodded and she nodded back.

She walked around him to the epitaph and read the second emblem; 'Men were born and spread over the face of Mundus. The Dragons presided over the crawling masses. Men were weak then, and had no Voice.' Again, nothing happened to her. She was starting to doubt her mission. Jerien started to continue up the path when she decided to turn and speak with the pilgrim. "Excuse me, if you don't mind me asking, why do you walk the steps?" she asked him.

"I like to spend time up here and meditate on the emblems. It's peaceful and it helps me center my mind. Plus it doesn't hurt if I bag some game along the way." He said as he gestured to the deer.

"Did you hear the Greybeards call "Dohvakiin?" Jerien wanted to know.

"I did. It shook the whole mountain and made me miss a shot on a deer." The man said as he rubbed his arms as if he was cold. "Strange days indeed when the monks do that. I wonder what it means." He shrugged his shoulders. "Keep an eye out for wolves if you're continuing up the path." The man said as he began to head back down the mountain.

Jerien took his advice to heart and continued on her way with her new ice sword in one hand and her elven war axe in the other. Soon after she left the hunter, she came upon two large wolves with white fur, but she was ready for them. They put up little resistance to the biting cold of her weapon and within a few seconds, lay dead at her feet.

She reached the step number two thousand to find another carved arch with another epitaph. This one had an offering bowl filled with fresh purple mountain flowers. 'The fledgling spirits of Men were strong in Old Times. Unafraid to war with Dragons and their Voices. But the Dragons only shouted them down and broke their hearts.' Still, Jerien felt no profound change or spiritual awakening.

Jerien continued up the steps to her destination. She was able to navigate the next six hundred steps with no problems other than a few more skeevers and another ice wolf, which she easily dispatched. The next two hundred or so paces where much more difficult because they were missing or completely covered in snowdrifts. The weather had gotten rough with blowing snow and strong winds. She followed were she thought the path should be and soon found the familiar carved steps of the mountain again. They led to a forth arch. A beautiful Nord woman was sitting cross legged in the swirling snow in front of the epitaph. She didn't seem at all bothered by the biting frost or the subzero wind chill. She wore luxurious scaled horned armor and had an expensive magical circlet around her forehead. It was very unique, with many precious stones and elaborate filigree. Her flaxen hair was finely braided and the rings she wore on her fingers were not cheaply made. The cold wind brought out a flushed look to her cheeks and her lips were full and red. She was extremely beautiful, but had a sad, forlorn look to her.

"Hello. Who are you?" Jerien asked.

"Just a pilgrim. I'd prefer to leave it at that, if you don't mind." The woman's tone and piercing blue eyes told Jerien not to ask any further questions.

"Apologies, my Lady." Jerien realized that this was no mere scullery maid. She bowed her head and walked around her to read the fourth emblem. 'Kyne called to Paarthurnax, who pitied Man. Together they taught Men to use the Voice. Then Dragon War raged, Dragon against Tongue.'

"Excuse me, my Lady." Jerien said as she backed away from the woman. She resumed her journey up the steps when the woman called out to her. "If you're going further up, be wary of where the steps go through a narrow channel of the mountain. Frost trolls tend to make their den there. They are very dangerous but susceptible to fire. Good luck to you."

Jerien again bowed her head and said, "Luck to you too. Thank you, my Lady."

The next few hundred steps were extremely steep. The storm had died down and the sun attempted to peek through the clouds as it set behind her. Jeriens' legs were screaming at her as she finally reached a plateau. A plateau that directed her into a narrow channel. 'Frost trolls' Jerien said to herself as she crouched down. Her legs protested against the further exertion, but she continued on as low and as quietly as possible, staying as close to the side of the mountain as she could.

It took her a while but finally saw the huge beast crouching on top of a ridge. Its white fur made it almost perfectly blend in with the snowy surroundings. Jerien dipped an arrow in the poison she collected earlier from the giant spider and pulled back as far as possible on her bow. She released the arrow and heard the creature growl as it struck true. It stood and howled and beat its chest with rage. The troll jumped down and began to run down the path. Jerien slunk backwards down the steps as quietly as possible to avoid detection from the rabid beast and hid as best she could. Luckily it was dusk and she was still covered in snow so the troll had trouble detecting her, even with its three eyes. It growled and hit the frozen ground with its fists in frustration. It stared at the horizon for a minute or two longer and then turned back around to return to its den. Jerien waited until it was under the edge of the overhang then slowly made her way back up the path. She aimed directly at the trolls' chest and let loose another poison tipped arrow. Again the beast howled with a fury. It ran back down the path, slower than before. The poison was beginning to work and the troll seemed sluggish and drunk. It ran farther down the steps this time, determined to find the source of its wounds. Jerien crouched as low as she could and dared not move a muscle or breathe.

After what seemed like forever, the troll turned around, staggered, and began to make its way back up the steps. Jerien let loose a third arrow, dripping with the toxic poison. The troll was ready this time and turned around as it was struck. It saw Jerien as she ducked back down and ran straight towards her. Her heart raced as she realized the monster was on to her. The creature was gaining ground as she debated on her next course of action.

'They are susceptible to fire.' Jerien told herself to thank that lovely woman if she ever saw her again as she began to fling fireballs at the irate beast as it barreled towards her. It slowed as it was engulfed in a blaze but still had enough momentum to barrel into her and slashed her arms and face with its claws before it planted itself face down in the snow. It rolled around to try and stop the flames and clawed at the Nords legs, but it was obvious the animal was dying. Jerien cast her newly learned soul trap spell on the creature as it lay before her in the snow. A purple flash emitted from the beast as its heart stopped. She could feel one of the empty soul gems in her pocket turn warm and get heavier. She whispered a spell to heal her cheek and upper arm and then covered her mouth as the smell of burnt hair filled her nostrils as the stepped around the dead troll.

The next emblem was not far from the troll lair. 'Man prevailed, shouting Alduin out of the world. Proving for all that their Voice too was strong. Although their sacrifices were many-fold.' Again, nothing happened after reading the words. Jerien had read five of the emblems so far and still felt nothing.

She almost missed the next arch. It was dark now and the snow storm had returned, making it difficult to see where she was going. The path she had been following led to the edge of the mountain. She almost fell straight down a sheer cliff before she stopped. She turned around and followed a narrow path between two thick fir trees and found the next epitaph. "With roaring Tongues, the Sky-Children conquer. Founding the First Empire with Sword and Voice. Whilst the Dragons withdrew from this World."

Jerien said it aloud this time, thinking that maybe that was the key. Still, she felt no stirring of any underlying power or electricity. All was quiet other than the howling of the wind.

The next league of her journey seemed to go down the mountain rather than up. Jerien was beginning to worry that she was not on the path anymore and had gotten lost. She hadn't seen any of the stone steps for quite some time. She also had not come upon any more pilgrims or beasts. The winds had mercifully died down and the snow was falling in big lazy puffs so she was able to see further out in front of her now. She felt very lucky for that because the next epitaph was placed precariously out on a narrow shelf that reached out over nothing. It looked to fall down the mountain at any moment. 'The Tongues at Red Mountain went away humbled. Jurgen Windcaller began His Seven Year Mediation. To understand how Strong Voices could fail.'

Jerien looked up and all around her, but again, nothing happened. She started to think that this was all a mistake. That maybe what transpired between her and the dragon outside of Whiterun was just a fluke, a one-time happenstance. She wasn't going to let her lack of faith stop her though. She turned and continued up the 7,000 steps (she had stopped counting a while ago) but realized that she was not alone.

A large snake-like creature was hovering in the air about fifteen yards down the path, staring at her. It looked like a giant skeletal serpent with a huge head and massive fangs. She could hear it hiss as it looked at her. It whipped its tail back and forth, leaving a trail of frost in the air.

She knew that this creature was sizing her up and wouldn't be immobile much longer. It looked to be made of ice so she decided that her enchanted sword would probably be useless against it. Jerien slowly reached down for her war axe and then opened her left hand to start a flame spell. The creature seemed to realize what she was doing and made its move. It flew at her with such speed that she barely had time to lift her hand to spew a stream of fire at its face. It screeched and turned to flow around her. Jerien ran down the path to get away from the edge of mountain and to find a better place to make her stand. She turned to put her back up against a sheer snow covered rock to face this new enemy. She raised her war axe and opened her hand again to fend of this frozen beast with another blast of fire, but nothing was there.

Jerien looked around and saw nothing but snow being blown in the wind. 'This thing can fly, there is no way it fell off the mountain!' she thought to herself. Just then, she heard the hissing sound again. Her heart raced faster as she looked left and right to try and figure out where this thing was. Then she looked up.

The monster was coming straight down from above! Her quick reflexes were the only thing that saved her. She swung her axe above her head and hit the creature in its jaw. It shrieked and peeled off to her left and began to swirl about. It came at her again and spit a wall of ice spikes at her. Jerien chuckled a little and let the frozen spit hit her full on. Big. Mistake.

It felt like a thousand ice needles had pierced her from head to toe. The left side of her body felt frozen solid. Jerien could not breathe for a few seconds as she recovered from the attack. The creature wasted no time and was coming at her again. She was luckily still able to move and dove to her right just as another stream of frozen spittle exploded against the wall where she had been standing. Jerien tried to stand but realized that her left leg was still frozen and she was unable to move very quickly. "Dammit!" she yelled as she used a rock to help her stand. She drug her useless appendage along behind her as she went on the attack.

The beast seemed to know that she was injured and kept flying backwards and staying just out of her reach when she swung her axe. It dodged and ducked every fireball she threw at it. Jerien realized that it was toying with her and just tiring her out. She dropped the axe and put her wrists together and pushed a flame spell out from her hands. A huge stream of fire burst forth. It hit the flying snake and began to melt it. It turned and aimed straight for her. Jerien yelled at it like she had the dragon and forced the words out of her lungs. This time she heard the word she yelled, "FFFUUUSSS!" The ice creature flipped backwards and hit a tree as if someone had smacked it out of the air. She continued spewing fire from her hands as it recovered and tried to attack her again, but its tail appeared to be broken and limp. Just as Jeriens' magica began to fade, the creature exploded in a cloud of ice and frost. She dropped to her knees trying to catch her breath. She knew she needed to heal herself, but her magica was completely spent. She crawled over to her bag and rummaged around for a healing potion. She chided herself as she drank the elixir for not remembering what the witch had told her. She was not immune to frost damage, just less susceptible to it. She definitely would not forget that in the future.

Jerien thanked the Nine that the next two epitaphs were not far from each other. She found them with ease and without encountering any further flying ice beasts. 'Jurgen Windcaller chose silence and returned. The 17 disputants could not shout Him down. Jurgen the Calm build His home on the Throat of the World.'

The ninth epitaph was underneath a huge statue of a man that was stepping on a giant serpent. He held a large two handed sword just above the snakes head, as if he was about to behead it. It read 'For years all silent, the Greybeards spoke one name. Tiber Septim, stripling then, was summoned to Hrothgar. They blessed and named him Dohvakiin.' Tiber Septim. The solider that first called her dragonborn said that Tiber Septim was rumored to be dragonborn also.

Jerien looked to her left and saw an enormous, snow covered, stone fortress. It was the biggest citadel she had ever seen. She made it! Off to the right of the entrance was a tenth and final arch. She read the emblem out loud, "The Voice is worship. Follow the Inner path. Speak only in True Need."

A soft violet glow surrounded her. Her eyes opened wide with shock as she realized that she now had the knowledge of a new incantation without ever having to learn it. She just knew it. She now had the ability to control the animals around her, to stop them from fleeing or attacking her. She knew she could cast it without ever having practiced it and it would work. All doubts that she was not meant to climb the steps and answer the call of the Greybeards dissipated.

She walked up to an altar that was half way up the stone steps to the entrance. There was a large metal chest with offerings of flowers, septims, urns, and potions all around it. She opened the chest and placed the supply bag that Klimmek had given her inside. Jerien then walked up the last of the 7,000 steps and entered High Hrothgar.

Chapter 9:

The gates closed behind her with a loud clang that echoed in the empty stone chamber. The shutting of the doors seemed so final to her. Jerien couldn't breathe for a minute. She knew that she would never be able to turn back to the life she had been living for the past two hundred years. She was not the same naïve sheltered girl that ran away from home months ago. She had seen things that would frighten a grown man and had kept going. Many times she wanted to surrender and return home to the safety of her mother's arms, but didn't. Giving up was not an option anymore.

She breathed deeply a few times to calm herself before venturing further into the room. She didn't want the first impression she gave the Greybeards to be that of a quivering, insecure weakling. That is not who she is anymore. She may not be this 'Dragonborn' of legend but she was no coward. She came here to find answers and wasn't going to leave until she had them. Jerien straightened up as she strode confidently into the center of the room. Four old bearded men in thick, full, grey robes walked in from four different directions. She stood her ground in the middle of the room as one approached her. "I heard your call. I am here." She said.

"So, you heard our summons, the Dragonborn appears." The man said. He looked exactly as she imagined a 'greybeard' to be. Tall and slender with a thick braided grey beard that reached down to his waist. She couldn't tell his age, only that he looked immensely old. His blue eyes seemed full of wisdom. "Well, we will see if you really have the gift. Show us. Let us witness your Voice. Shout."

"Shout?" She asked. The Greybeard nodded. Jerien felt slightly uncomfortable because she didn't know if she could 'shout' on command. Every time she shouted in the past, she was under extreme duress and it just happened. She took a deep, long breath and pulled the word up from deep inside her. Jerien pushed it out of her body like she did before. "FUS!" she yelled. The word completely emptied her lungs. She took a deep breath and stood up straighter than she had before.

The four men were pushed back by the power of her shout. They stood back up, looked at each other and nodded. "Welcome to High Hrothgar, Dragonborn. I am Master Arngeir, I speak for the Greybeards." He said. "We are followers of the way of the Voice. We are here to guide you in your pursuit, just as the Greybeards have guided those of the Dragon Blood that have come before you."

"Dragons have returned to Skyrim." Jerien said. "I am here to learn all that I can so I can defeat them. Will you teach me?" She asked.

"We can, but do you have the discipline and temperament that it will take to accomplish that task?" He looked her up and down. "We shall see. You have received no training, but can already project your voice into a Thu'um. Being dragonborn, you have an inborn ability to do so. Now let's see if you can learn. The more words of power you learn, the more powerful your shouts will be. Master Einarth will now teach you another word in Unrelenting Force. 'Ro'. It means 'Balance'. When combined with 'Fus' or 'Force', it will increase the power of your Voice." As Master Arngeir stepped backwards, another of the greybeards walked forward. He was taller and thinner than Master Arngier. His beard was a mixture of black and white hair and his eyes were deeply set. He clasped his hands in front of him and bowed his head down. The ground underneath him began to rumble as he growled the word "Ro". He opened his arms and then looked up at Jerien.

A moment later, three symbols lit up on the floor in front of him. She had no idea what he expected her to do. She stood there for a moment then walked towards him. The symbols began to glow brighter and then a warm orange glow flowed from them and surrounded her. Her lungs felt full of a thick scorching fluid and she could not breathe. The suffocating feeling left as soon as it came. Master Einarth nodded at her.

She looked at Master Arngier and he smiled contently at her. "You learned that word like a master would, you do have the gift. But learning a word of power is only the first step in understanding it. Most of us have to constantly practice it in order to learn its meaning and use it in a shout. But as dragonborn you are able to absorb the power directly from a slain dragon or tap directly into our knowledge of the word. I would like to see how you learn a completely new shout. Come. Follow us to the court yard." Master Arngier and the other robed men turned and walked out of the chamber they were in. Jerien had no choice but to follow.

Master Arngier led her to a frozen, open courtyard. When they stopped, one of the other grey robed men walked up to her. He was shorter and stouter than the other three men. His hair was thin and wispy and his face was heart shaped and wide, with eyes as grey as his robes.

"Master Borri will now teach you a completely new shout. We will see how you learn the word 'Wuld', which means whirlwind." Jerien looked over to the other Greybeard and he loudly whispered the word 'Wuld'. The dirt and snow at his feet rumbled and a few seconds later more symbols appeared on the ground at his feet. Jerien walked over to them and again felt engulfed in the same hot glow. She was prepared for it this time and recovered quickly.

"Now we will see how you master a new word. Master Wolfgar will demonstrate, and then it will be your turn." They walked over to an old metal gate at the corner of the courtyard. Master Borri pulled a metal lever on the side of the gate and they opened with a loud creak. They slammed shut after only a few seconds. They opened again a moment later and Master Wolfgar shouted "Wuld!" He ran through the opening before Jerien could take notice. One second he was beside her and the next he was thirty yards away on the other side of the closed gate. It made her head spin.

"Now it's your turn. Stand here and when the gates open, shout your way through." Master Arngeir said. He stepped aside and waited for Jerien. She walked up and stood beside him as requested. She had no idea if this was going to work or not. She looked at Master Borri standing by the gate and as he looked away from her, the gate opened. She immediately took a deep breath and pushed out the word "Wuld!"

The next thing she knew, Jerien was yards across the quad and looking back through a closed gate at Master Arngeir. Master Wolfgar clasped his hands together and bowed to her. She was bewildered for a second or two but then bowed in response and then jogged back to Master Arngeir.

"Your quick mastery of the Thu'um is astonishing. We have heard about the amazing abilities of a dragonborn and how quickly they can learn the Way of the Voice, but to see it for ourselves…it's astounding." Master Arngeir began to walk back towards the citadel. "You are ready for your next task. We would like for you to retrieve the horn of Jurgen Windcaller, our founder, from his tomb in the ancient catacombs of Ustengrav and bring it back to us."

"Wait, What? Aren't you going to teach me more?" Jerien asked. "I mean, there has to be more about how to defeat the dragons. Isn't there? Another shout or Thu'um?"

Master Arngier smiled and nodded. "Oh there is much more we can teach you and we will. But first, you must complete the charge that was given to you. If you remain true to the way of the Voice, you will return triumphant."

"I came to you for help saving Skyrim from dragons and you're sending me on a task to fetch something for you? Are you serious? What is this going to accomplish?" Jerien did nothing to mask her irritation.

"It will prove to us that you have the spirit, the resolve and the discipline needed to defeat the dragons and be the savior that Skyrim will need. We can teach you every shout in the world, but what good would it do if you don't have the aptitude to use them properly. We will teach you no more until you can demonstrate characteristics that become a Dragonborn." He pointed out her destination on her map and entered the doors of High Hrothgar. Jerien followed him back in to the stronghold before she stopped him again.

"Master Arngeir, I apologize for my outburst. I have come to you for help, and I shouldn't protest about how that help is given." She said apologetically.

"You are young child. Patience will come with time and age." His tone was very soft.

"Well, that's one things I would like to speak to you about." Jerien said. "How do you know that I am really 'dragonborn'?"

"What do you mean?" The Greybeard had a confused look on his face. "You can shout without ever being taught how to, you heard our call and came to us and you learn the words of power without training. How can you question that?"

"I'm …I …I think I'm a false dragonborn." Jerien said.

"Why do you think this?" Master Arngeir asked.

"I'm not…" Jerien sighed deeply and realized that she had to tell him her secret. "I'm not what you think I am. I…I'm the result of a…of an accident. I don't believe I'm this 'dragonborn' of who you speak." She looked at the Greybeard with such shame in her eyes. He took her hand and he gently led her to a long stone bench. He patted her hand and sat beside her.

"Tell me why you think that." Master Arngier said.

"Because I'm a mistake." She told him. "I…I'm…" Jerien looked him directly in the eyes and said, "My mother fought in the Oblivion Crisis two hundred years ago. She was there when Martin Septim transformed into a dragon. She was within feet of him when he changed. The power he used to change himself, it…it affected her. And in turn… affected me… in her womb." Jerien looked down at her hands, unable to continue looking at the Greybeard. "She didn't know it at the time, but she was pregnant. Mother didn't find out about me until a few months or so afterwards and I was born over a year later. She never explained much to me, like why it took so long for me to be born, or why we seem to have such long lives. It took almost 100 years for her to even explain anything to me, and even then, she still kept me in the dark." Jerien stopped for a moment. She gulped and took a deep breath before continuing. "All she has ever told me is that Martin made us 'special' and that I'm never to tell anyone about it. She said that no one will ever understand and that they will try to use our power or our longevity for their own benefit. You're the first person I've told about our secret. The only reason I'm telling you now is because you should be aware of this, and that I'm not like those that have come before me. I'm not 'dragonborn'." Jerien held her breath and waited for Master Arngiers response.

The laughter she heard puzzled her and she lifted her head up. "Don't you see child?" He said. "That just confirms that you truly are dragonborn. Your story doesn't make you false, it gives you the potential to be the most powerful dragonborn ever! You received the gift straight from Akatosh himself directly to you in the womb!" Master Arngier stood and pulled Jerien to her feet. "This proves beyond a shadow of a doubt that you truly have the blood and power of the dragon flowing through you!"

"Does this mean that Mother is dragonborn too?" she wanted to know.

"Oh, I'm sure that Martin Septim altered her, but to what extent, I do not know. She was already an adult, and the power that flowed from Martin to her probably gave her some of the abilities and benefits of the dragon blood, but you, you were in the womb when you received this blessing. It's been a part of you since before you took your first breath and will be who you are until your last. Tiber Septim himself couldn't claim that. You are definitely not like those who have come before you, my dear. You are probably the most pure dragonborn ever!" Master Arngier looked at her with a renewed appreciation.

"Then how come I've never been able to shout before now?" Jerien shook her head. She still was struggling to accept or want this new responsibility. "If I am dragonborn, how come I only now have this ability?"

"Because it has been lying dormant, deep inside of you until it was needed. It took the power of another dragon to awaken it. I'm afraid that if the dragons had not returned to Skyrim, you would never have known of your birthright or your ability to shout. You would have only known the benefit of their long life. But they have returned, and they have stirred something profound within you. Search your heart my child, look deep inside yourself …You know it's true."

It took Jerien several moments of contemplation before she finally accepted what she has known all along. "Yes," She said. "You're right. I am Dragonborn."

Chapter 11:

Jerien awoke the next morning at dawn with a renewed sense of purpose. She no longer worried about not fitting in with the rest of the world anymore. She was supposed to be different, special. She didn't care anymore if anyone found out about her 'secret'. It wasn't anything to be ashamed of. The dragon blood was a gift! It was meant to be used to its fullest potential, not hidden away from the rest of the world. It was her destiny and Jerien was not going to conceal it anymore.

The Greybeards had filled up her pack with potions before she set out the next morning. The only one that ever spoke to her was master Arngier. He explained the reason for their silence was that the other three are 'one with the voice' and he has yet to achieve their level of mastery. They also let her peruse through their library. Jerien found several new skill books on various subjects: blocking, one handed skills, blacksmithing, and bartering that she learned some new tricks from and a fascinating volume on restoration magic. The most helpful was a book on destruction. She knew that her flames and fireballs would be even more deadly now, and she learned a new ice spike spell that she was eager to try out on a future unsuspecting foe.

The sun was shining and the sky was clear and blue as she left the cold stone of High Hrothgar behind. The weather cooperated with her and it didn't take her near as long to descend the 7,000 steps as it did to climb them. She met no new pilgrims nor did she come across any wolves, spiders or ice beasts. She was both content that nothing was impeding her on her new journey, and disappointed that she was not able to practice any of her newfound skills. Jerien knew that it would only be a matter of time before some four or two legged enemy would present itself though.

She found Klimmek fishing near the bridge that connected the steps to Ivarstead. He thanked her for making his delivery by giving her some clam meat and several fresh fish he had just caught. 'I know it's not much, but I spent most of my money on a gift for my girl, Fastred. I'm going to have to do a lot of extra fishing to make up for it. She loves me though, and I know she'll be ok with me not having a lot of free time for a little while."

Jerien wished him luck and headed north on the road that led out of the town. She had checked her map and Ustengrav was pretty far north, farther than she had ever traveled in Skyrim. It would take her days to reach her destination and she would make much better time if she still had her horse. She shivered a little as she remembered the fate that befell her previous steed and decided that maybe it would be better for the horses of Skyrim if she traveled on her own for a while.

She made good time and found herself back in Riverwood before suppertime. She thought about stopping and visiting Gerdur and Hod but didn't want to keep attracting attention to them in case any Imperial soldiers were looking for Ralof. She jogged quickly through and nodded to the soldiers keeping watch so as not to look suspicious.

The road to and from Whiterun was starting to become familiar to her. She remembered the spot where she met the high elf inquisitor and decided to run past that point. She didn't feel scared that she would run into him again, but was trying to outrun her cowardice in not helping their Nord prisoner. She hoped that he was still alive. She ran until her stamina was gone and she felt a stitch in her side.

She slowed as she reached the bridge that would take her to Whiterun. The sun had set an hour ago but Skyrim's two moons were still almost full and able to give off a decent amount of light. A figure in dark leather armor stopped her as she tried to cross. He drew a wicked looking dagger from its sheath and said, "Alright, hand over your valuables … or I'll gut you like a fish!"

"Do I look like I have any money?" Jerien said, still slightly breathless.

"That fancy sword on your hip says otherwise." He sneered. His skin was dark grey, like Irileths, but that's where their similarities ended. Where her eyes were large and fierce, his were narrow and dull, making him look like a demora. His chin tapered to a sharp point, accented by his dark green beard that was trimmed to make his face look long and slender. If not for the light from the moons, Jerien would have never seen his face beneath his leather hood. "Now, now, dearie. Keep those lovely hands away from my new sword. I'd hate to have to chop them off and get it all bloody."

"If I were you, I would walk away right now. I don't want to have to hurt you." Jerien said as she raised her hands up and moved them slowly together.

"Nice try but you don't scare me little one. I'm not going to ask again." The dark elf took a step closer.

"I warned you." She said as frost started to form on her fingertips. Before the dark elf could take another step towards her, she threw a bolt of ice at his chest. It pushed him back as it impaled his left shoulder, making him drop his weapon. He fell backwards onto the ground and was still.

Jerien started to walk over to where the man lay on the ground, wishing he would have yielded so she didn't have to kill him. But before she knew it, he had raised his right hand and hit her with a shock spell. It stole what little air there was in her lungs and sent electricity running up and down her body. She felt her magica begin to drain as the current danced along her skin.

"How do you like the taste of your own medicine, eh? You're not the only one who knows a fancy trick or two." He growled as he stood and regained his footing. Lightning sparked in his right hand as he continued to hurl his spell at her. He pulled the melting ice spike from his shoulder and threw it on the ground.

It took all of her concentration and strength to create another bolt of ice. She threw it blindly at the dark elf hoping it would made contact and break his focus. She heard him laugh as it struck a tree off to his right. The Nord formed another barb and aimed towards his voice. She was able to open her eyes just barely to see it pierce his left thigh. "Nasty little bitch!" he screamed. She got a momentary reprieve as he grabbed his leg with both hands. He looked up at her with clenched teeth and flung another volley of sparks at her, but she was ready this time.

Jerien lifted up her shield to block the attack. The bolt danced along and around the metal, giving her a slight shock, but it protected her enough to where she could ready another spike. She peeked over her shield and threw the ice spear at the bandits' upper body and heard him grunt. Jerien saw the elf stagger backwards as he looked down at his stomach at the giant icicle sticking out. She didn't even think twice as she pushed another shaft of ice out of her hand and watched at it slammed into his torso. He was pushed backwards from the impact of the fourth barb and fell back against a tree. She walked over to him and hit him one more time with another spike just to make sure he was dead. His body jumped as the ice entered his chest, but he didn't move again. She rummaged through his coin purse and took all of his ill-gotten gains: 102 septims, an orcish dagger, an emerald pendant and a loose sapphire, a stamina and healing potion (which she immediately drank) and a ring that made her feel 'sneakier' when she put it on. She decided against taking his armor since it would be difficult to sell it with five conspicuous holes in it. The leather boots he wore, on the other hand, were just her size and were in much better condition than her own.

As she was changing her boots for the thief's, a guard happened upon her as he was making his rounds. "What's the meaning of this?" he asked her as he looked from the dead elf to her. One of his hands was holding a torch but the other was already on the hilt of his sword.

Jerien thought quickly and said, "I was stopped by this thief and he tried to rob me. I was forced to defend myself. As a Thane of Whiterun, I am appalled that I was accosted so close to the city."

"Thane?" he asked. He didn't seem convinced and didn't remove his hand from his sword.

"Yes. I am Thane Jerien Amontè. I was given that title by Jarl Balgruuf after I slew the dragon that was decimating the western watch tower and stole its soul. I was on my way to inform the Jarl of my successful meeting with the Graybeards on High Hrothgar. They are sending me on a quest that only the Dragonborn can complete."

"D-d-dragonborn…uh, yes, I apologize my Lady." The guard said as he bowed his head. "Word of your deeds is already spreading throughout the hold. Forgive me for thinking you were part of the common rabble. Please, continue on your way."

"Thank you my good man. I will make sure the Jarl knows of your courtesy." Jerien said as she walked over the bridge towards Whiterun. It was almost midnight when she reached the main doors. She thought about going directly to Dragonsreach and telling the Jarl of her dealings with the Greybeards but thought better of it. She was too tired and wasn't ready to inform him that the horse he had loaned her had become hagraven food. She decided that a good night's rest at the inn would be better and then she would speak to the Jarl fresh faced in the morning.

Even though it was well into the night when Jerien entered the Bannered Mare, it was quite busy. A minstrel was playing a lute and singing a tune that she was not familiar with while several inebriated patrons were joining in. They all shouted and clinked their mugs together as the song ended with "…as his ugly red head rolled around on the floor!"

'Interesting song' Jerien thought to herself as she pulled up a seat at the bar. The proprietor of the inn walked up to her and welcomed her as she sat.

"Welcome to the Bannered Mare. You look tired and hungry friend, we have beds for rent and plenty of good ale and food to sait your appetite." Jerien ordered a meal of vegetable stew, bread and cheese, and wine. The owner, Hulda, entertained her with a story about how her establishment got its name as she paid for her meal and a room for the night. "Hundreds of years ago," she began, "an old Nord king was killed in a skirmish. His trusty steed, a beautiful palomino mare, carried on his banner throughout the battle though. Seeing the kings' banner still flying high, his men continued fighting and they ended up being victorious over the invading army." Jerien agreed it was a lovely story. She finished her meal and ordered a second bottle of wine. She sat, lost in her thoughts, as a man in a black robe sat down beside her.

"You look like someone who can hold their liquor. How's about a friendly drinking contest to win a staff?" the man said. He was average looking but very friendly. He had dark shoulder length hair with red full lips that seemed to be in a perpetual smile. His nose was kind of squat and pudgy and his manner and demeanor were quiet and ordinary. But his eyes, that's where he was exceptional. They were very bright, mischievous looking and seemed to have a constant twinkle to them. Jerien found herself actually thinking about participating.

"A drinking contest huh?" she inquired. "I don't think I've ever partaken in one. Although, I believe I might already be ahead of you friend." She motioned to her recently opened second bottle of Alto wine.

"Oh no! We won't be drinking that swill, er, uh, no offense Hulda" he said, quickly recovering.

"None taken Sam. But watch yourself." Hulda said in a firm voice while winking at the robed man as she walked back around the bar. She gathered up several more bottles of ale while giving orders to the only other employee in the place: a beautiful Redguard woman with dainty features that leapt every time Hulda yelled at her. "Come now, Saadia, we're not even that busy. Uthgerd has been waiting five minutes for a refill. That's not how we treat patrons here at the Bannered Mare!"

"Yes ma'am, right away!" Saadia quickly grabbed a bottle of mead and scurried off.

"So how's about it? You up for a challenge?" Sam asked. He held up a gray cup that was full of an enticing smelling liquid. "My own brew." He said, swirling it around.

Jerien was tempted, but said, "I really don't feel like drinking any more right now, I have a lot on my mind. Maybe later friend." She stood and headed towards her room.

"Alright." Sam said, "I'll be here when you're ready. I can guarantee it will be a night you'll never forget."

Chapter 12:

Jerien woke the next morning with a minor headache. That was the most wine she had ever drank and she was very grateful that she didn't take Sam up on his offer. She dressed, ate, and made her way to Dragonsreach. All of the guards she met on the way bowed their heads to her as she walked by.

The Jarl was eating the first meal of the day when she entered the grand hall. "Thane Amonè! Dragonborn! You have returned from the Throat of the World! Tell us, what news did you learn?" He rose from the long table and walked over to her. He gave her a bear hug that lifted her off her feet as he greeted her. Jerien felt awkward because she was not used to this kind of reception, but relaxed and hugged him back. His brother, Hrongar, was there and gave her a sly smile.

Jerien cleared her throat and said in a very formal voice. "Jarl Bargruuf, I have returned from High Hrothgar. The Greybeards have acknowledged me as Dragonborn. They have agreed to help me on my pursuit to rid Skyrim of the dragons. It will not be an easy quest, and there will be many steps to undertake, but they are confident that I will be able to accomplish them. I thank you for your aid in my mission." She then bowed formally at the Jarl.

"Bah! Such formalities! You are a friend to Whiterun and to me. You shall always be welcome in my hall as a colleague and as an ally. Come, sit and eat with us."

"Thank you for your offer, Jarl, but I must decline. I have a long journey ahead of me and must be on my way. I came here to make you aware of my current undertaking and to gain your guidance on the matter. I have the map you have given me, but since this is your realm, I would like your assistance in finding the best route to my new destination." Jerien felt bold in making her plan known amongst his court. She felt confident that he will not betray her whereabouts or try and deceive her.

"Yes, yes, of course! Come, we shall discuss this over my forum table." The Jarl cheerfully led her up the steps to the map room. His brother, Provenits and the court wizard, Farengar, followed. Jerien did not trust the mage, but Balgruuf did, so she did not voice her disdain of his being included in this meeting. She rolled out her map on the table and pointed to her destination.

"Ustengrav." She said. "Since this is the farthest North I've been in Skyrim, I would appreciate any help on deciding on a route to getting there quickly."

Jarl Balgruuf and his brother leaned over the table and began to study her map while Farengar leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. The Redguard merely scowled at the map and then at Jerien. "Hmmmm, I have explored areas near there but never been there myself." Balgruuf said. "Have you, Hrongar?"

"I've been all around the Hjaalmarch hold, but no, I've never ventured into that ruin. It seems easy enough to get there, go east or west around the mountain chain and then northeast of Morthal. It will take a couple days either way you go."

"Is there no way through the mountains?" Jerien inquired.

"Ha ha, maybe if you were part mountain goat, but no, not for us Nords. Some parts of that mountain are extremely sheer and are impossible to climb. It's best to go around." Hrongar answered.

"Yeah, I guess it's best not to try short cuts. I found that out when I was on my way to Ivarstead." Jerien gave them a quick overview of her interaction with the bandits and how she had lost her horse.

The Jarl wasn't as upset as she was with the death of the mount he had loaned her, but he was impressed on how she handled the bandits. "Ha! A hagraven indeed! And I believe those are the thugs that had been robbing merchants and travelers along that stretch of road. My soldiers have been looking for them for months but they always seemed to slip away moments before capture. You have again done a great service to Whiterun. I'll make sure Proventis pays you the bounty I had put on their heads." The jarl clapped her on the back and smiled. "You are starting to earn quite a reputation around here. Have you given much thought about buying property in the city and making this your permanent residence? I believe that there still is a house on the market. It's not in the cloud district, but it's still a lovely home nonetheless."

"That is a wonderful thought, and I would be honored to call Whiterun my home, but I don't have time at the moment to run a household. Maybe after I finish this quest for the Greybeards I will be able to. But right now, it is my top priority." Jerien hated to turn down the offer because in her heart, she would love to own a home of her own.

She rolled her map back up and put it in her pack. She said her goodbyes to Jarl Balgruuf, Hrongar, and after a moment or two of deliberation, to Farengar also. He dismissed her again with a flip of his wrist and walked back over to his room to do whatever it is that wizards do.

Jarl Balgruuf, on the other hand, made sure her pack was full of everything she might need on her journey to Ustengrav and toasted to her honor several times before he allowed her to leave. Jerien politely declined after the fifth or sixth toast. It was still very early in the morning and the headache she had earned from the previous night was threatening to return. The Jarl made sure she collected the bounty for disposing of the bandits for him and he hugged her again as she was at the door to Dragonsreach. Hrongar hugged her as well, although his hug was a little more exploratory than his brothers. He also whispered in her ear that if she decided not to purchase the house in town, there would always be a warm bed for her here. She thanked him and pried herself out of his grip so she could leave.

She looked out over the city of Whiterun as she walked over the wooden bridge and down the stone steps that led her to the center of the town. There was a huge tree in a courtyard that looked to be sickly and dying. To her left was an acolyte standing in front of a shrine of Talos. He was lecturing, quite loudly and boldly, about his outlawed divine. She thought it pretty daring of him to be worshipping the forbidden god out in the open like this, but no one seemed to be paying him any mind, so she continued on her way. Beyond the acolyte was Jorrvaskr. She had only previously seen it at night and to behold it in the daylight was quite magnificent. Jerien thought about walking up the stairs and entering the great hall, but only for a moment. Maybe someday she would see what quests lay behind those doors, but not today.

The market square was on the next tier down and was very busy. She noticed several people haggling with a Wood Elf about the prices of his meat and wanting to know where he hunts his game. An older Nord female was helping a woman choose a necklace from her display. Two children, a boy and a girl, were running around playing tag. The girl ran up to the boy and hit him hard on the arm and then laughed. "Stop it Braith! That really hurt!" he said.

"What? Are you going to cry, you milk drinker?" the girl sneered at him. She pushed her way past two Nord women that were standing in front of a stall selling vegetables and ran up the stone steps to the next tier of the town. The boy stood there and rubbed his arm. He looked up at Jerien and sniffed back a tear as he turned to walk slowly away in the opposite direction that his attacker had gone. 'If I do decide to live here, I will definitely do something about that little bully', Jerien thought to herself.

She exited the city and headed north along the perimeter walls. After 10 minutes of jogging she came to a camp that was half concealed beneath a rock outcropping. Jerien didn't think anything of it and continued to trot past. She heard someone say "You picked a bad day to get lost friend" and was taken completely by surprise as she felt a fireball explode on the ground beside her. She immediately dove and rolled to her left and came up with an arrow notched. She saw two bandits through the smoke and fired at the closest one. She missed and heard a woman laugh. She changed tactics and decided to sling her bow and unsheathed her war axe and ice sword. "FUS!" she yelled as she ran straight towards them. The bandits were blown back into the cave that the outcropping helped to hide. She came across the first bandit, a Redguard female, and stabbed her through the chest with her sword. The woman sucked in a quick breath as her heart froze and then stopped moving. The second bandit, a male Wood Elf, was still getting to his feet when Jerien turned on him. He was able to slash at her with his dagger but was still unsteady on his feet. Jerien jumped back but was not quick enough to avoid injury. The wound he caused on her right thigh began to smoke and burn as if on fire. It was deep enough to make her not able to put her full weight on it and she stumbled, dropping the fireball she had created. Her momentary lapse gave the man time to collect himself and run out of the cave.

"You'll be so much easier to rob when you're dead!" he said as he began to fire arrows in her direction. One embedded itself in the chest to her left and one hit her in the same thigh that was starting bleed. Jerien tried to shout again, but found her lungs empty of air and was unable to. 'What's wrong with me?' she thought. She sheathed her war axe and whispered a healing spell as she broke off the end of the arrow. Her leg began to repair itself and pushed the rest of the shaft out of her thigh. She lifted up her shield and began to run towards the elf. He fired a third arrow and threw another fireball at her as she rushed him and bashed him with her shield. He staggered backwards and dropped his bow. He shook his head and drew his dagger again. He leapt at Jerien and tried to stab her in the same leg he had already injured. She easily danced around him and stabbed him in his back with her sword of ice, lifting him up off the ground as the tip of her sword burst through his chest. He gurgled for a few seconds and then stopped breathing. Jerien pulled her weapon out of his lifeless body and the corpse fell to the ground. She wiped the sweat from her brow and continued to heal her leg as walked over to the cave to find out what the bandits were willing to die for.

The chest revealed some surprising loot: several hundred septims, a heavy dwarven war axe and pair of elven boots that were in pristine condition, a shiny elven bow that glowed yellow when she touched it, a beautiful gold and sapphire necklace, various high potency potions and poisons (better than what she carried), a flawless ruby and an intriguing necklace that was in the shape of the shrine of Talos. Jerien decided to put it around her neck on a whim and felt her lungs expand as if they were getting bigger. She even found a tome on how to be a better lockpick that she saved to read later. 'Not a bad haul' Jerien thought to herself as she tried out her new bow that hummed with electricity when she plucked it. She began to walk out of the cave when she heard voices off to her left. She ducked down behind a pile of burlap sacks and listened.

"What happened here?" she heard someone say. "Someone will pay for this, I swear." Jerien peeked around the mound of bags and saw two men and a creature she believed to be a Kajiit kneeling down over the body of the Wood Elf. Jerien had never really had much contact with the feline people from Elsweyr but there was no mistaking it. She was smaller than her cohorts and covered with a thick tan colored fur. Her pointy ears were much higher up on her head, like a cats, and her nose and mouth were extended into a muzzle that looked to be full of sharp pointy teeth. Her large eyes were golden and the pupils appeared to be two parallel lines. And if Jerien needed more proof that of what she was looking at, a long, thick tail extended out from the back of the woman's leather grieves. It flitted around like it had a mind of its own.

She dropped back down and tried to figure out a strategy on how to get out of this situation alive. Her lungs felt full again so she knew she would be able to shout. She waited a moment longer and then stepped around the pile of bags and shouted at the thieves. "FUS!" she yelled.

Two of the bandits, the Kajiit and a male dark elf, went flying backwards. One, a hefty male Nord in steel armor, had walked far enough away that her shout didn't affect him. He pulled his war hammer off his back and ran towards Jerien. "Shit!" she yelled and threw two ice spikes at him. They broke apart as they hit his armor, and appeared to do little damage, but their impact slowed him down a little. She thought about shouting for a second time, but realized that her ability was drained again and that trying would be futile. She grabbed both of her one handed weapons again and dodged a blow from his hammer meant for her head. She used all her strength to hit him multiple times in quick succession. It staggered him but he was still able to swing his hammer and land a blow to her left torso. It threw her to the side and she felt a rib or two break. Jerien realized that she was no match for this level of fighting and decided that her best plan would be to gain high ground and use her archery skills. She felt her lungs inflate and shouted "Wuld!"

A moment later she was a dozen yards away and continued running to the top of the outcropping. Her lungs felt like they were going to explode but she didn't want to waste any time healing herself while the odds were not in her favor. She unslung her bow and began firing towards the thieves. She aimed at the heavily armored Nord and was able to hit his helm. It didn't harm him like she'd hoped but it jarred it enough to move it to the side and made him drop his cudgel so he could fix it. She felt an arrow fly by her own face as she re-aimed at the dark elf archer. She blindly aimed in his direction and he grunted as it embedded in his left knee. He dropped his weapon as he grasped at the arrow that shocked him. She then aimed at the Kajiit, but it was faster than she was expecting and she missed. She re-aimed and hit the Nord male at a chink in the groin of his steel armor. He went down convulsing and screaming, clutching at the metal shaft, trying to remove it. She looked around for the cat-person and didn't see it. A moment later Jerien knew exactly where it was, as she was down on the ground being scratched and gouged by thick claws. The Kajiit had made its way around to Jeriens' high ground and pounced on her. She dropped her bow and began rolling around, punching and kicking at the wild beast as she tried to focus on a spell. Her hands finally listened to her brain and became enflamed. She was able to grab the cats' arms and set them aflame. The Kajiit let Jerien go as she screeched and tried to put out the fire. The Nord aimed both hands and let loose with two fireballs from a foot away. The cat yowled as the fire overtook her.

Jerien made the most of the pause in the attack and scrambled back to her feet. She quickly healed the gaping tears in her face and arms caused by the cat and mended her broken ribs. Jerien picked up her bow from where she dropped it and aimed again at the Nord in the steel armor. Her arrow hit him just under his steel helmet and caught the left side of his neck. He gurgled something fowl at her as she saw a gushing of blood spew out from his body. The elf had recuperated and was aiming directly at her with his bow. He let loose his arrow before she could fire her own at him. It hit her in her left shoulder and embedded so deep it stuck out her back. She groaned and looked in the man's direction. "FUUUSSS … RRRO!" She yelled.

Both the dead body of the bandit leader and the archer flew backwards. Jerien had never shouted that hard before and it took more out of her than she expected. She ended up down on one knee, gasping for breath. She screamed as she pulled the arrow out of shoulder. Her hand glowed bright yellow as a healing spell sealed up the wound. She picked up her bow again and looked around for the feline. The Kajiit was still on the ground trying to put out the flames that were causing black smoke to surround her as she rolled around. Jerien threw another fireball at the cat and shot her with a poison tipped arrow as she ran by. The Kajiit growled and weakly tried to claw Jeriens legs as she sprinted around her.

Jerien notched another arrow as she saw the dark elf stagger around as he attempted to get up. She shot him in the back and he cried out as he fell. She continued running towards him and shot him again as he reached for his dagger. He stopped moving and didn't appear to be breathing but Jerien had learned her lesson before about assuming someone was down and put an arrow in the back of his neck. She backed away from the bodies and waited for a few minutes, an arrow at the ready. No one else moved so she finally relaxed and healed the rest of her wounds. After Jerien repaired every slash and hole on her body so that not even a scar remained, her stomach begin to growl like she hadn't eaten anything in days. She figured that healing needed immediate sustenance so she helped herself to their stock of applies, cheese and bread.

After a few more minutes of no movement from her foes, Jerien decided to check over their bodies and see what she could find. They all had an abundance of goods on them: jewels, septims, magical weapons (like the dark elf's' blade that had cut and burned her thigh), imperial and stormcloak armor, and plenty of potions. She realized then that these were the bandits that had been looting the roads to and from Whiterun. The brigands she disposed of days ago just happened to be in the wrong place and time and had been mistaken for the real thieves. 'Well', Jerien thought, 'I've already been paid the bounty, might as well reap more rewards.' She gathered up everything she thought she could get a coin for and headed back to Whiterun. Jerien overloaded herself so much that she was barely able to walk back to the town.

"Are you looking to protect yourself or deal some damage?" the blacksmith asked her as Jerien walked up to the glowing forge. The woman was hammering a long piece of steel, moulding it into a rough sword-like shape.

"I have a lot for sale, if you're interested." Jerien said. The smithy introduced herself as Adrienne Avenicci, the daughter of the advisor to the Jarl, Proventus Avenicci. She must take after her mother because she had none of the sour attitude or pinched look of her father. Her hair was thick, black and braided back out of her face so she could work. Her mouth was set in a determined line with full and red lips. Her face was heart shaped and very pleasant to look at, even covered with sweat. She bought all of the weapons and armor that Jerien had looted from the bandits. She didn't seem to mind the slight bloodstains, even though she gave Jerien a worried look.

"No worries, they're easily cleaned" the blacksmith said as she bartered. Jerien had kept the finest pieces for herself and sold everything else. "You run a hard bargain…" she said as she haggled for the best prices. The smith even sold her a moonstone ingot and showed her how to increase the strength of her elven bow with the use of her grindstone.

Jerien walked out of Whiterun with a smile on her face and her coin purse fuller than it had ever been before.

Chapter 13:

Jerien consulted her map as she returned to the bandit camp. There was a sturdy brown horse at the lair and she decided that she would make better time on horseback. That, and since no one was left alive to feed it, it would be better off in her care. She assumed the horse was already stolen but wasn't sure if she would get in trouble for 'stealing' it again. She didn't give it any more thought as she unhitched the animal from the heavy cart it was tied to and rode northwest towards the mountains.

It was a bright, clear day and she passed many travelers on the road. No one seemed to recognize her horse and she did her best to look natural and not conspicuous. Jerien soon came upon a Nord couple that was heading towards Whiterun. They looked very haggard, were covered in soot and smelled like smoke. She stopped her horse and spoke with them. "What happened?" she asked.

"A dragon!" the woman said. "It was terrifying! It came out of nowhere and destroyed our farm. We were barely able to get out with our lives!"

"Did you see what which way it went?"

"No, I was too scared to look. I just kept my head down and ran." The woman said. She started crying and her tears created clean lines on her smudged and dirty face. "We have nothing left. I don't know what we're going to do now. My sister lives in Whiterun so we're headed there for now, but she already has four mouths to feed..."

Jerien's heart tugged at the woman's plight. "Here, take this." She said as she leaned down and offered the woman a small coin purse. "It's not much, but it should help."

"Thank you, my Lady. You are too kind. Blessings of the Eight upon you." She took the bag of coins. The husband nodded at her with tears in his eyes as he put his arm around his wife and continued walking down the path.

'Until I find a solution to the dragons, this is going to become a more and more common occurrence.' Jerien thought to herself. She kicked her horse in the ribs and they trotted faster down the road.

They galloped and walked intermittently and came to several forks in the road over the course of the afternoon. All of them luckily had posts and signs, but none pointed to Ustengrav. Jerien checked her map at every turn to make sure she was going in the right direction. She was so single minded and determined to get to her destination that she didn't realize that she was being stalked until it was too late.

A giant brown missile that appeared to be all claws and teeth, attacked her horse from behind. The mare squealed from surprise, shock and pain as she stumbled to the ground. Jerien hit her head on a rock and was momentarily stunned and pinned under the animal. Their attacker didn't waste any time and had slashed open the horses stomach. Her newly acquired steed struggled to get up and run away but the beast clamped down on its neck in an attempt to suffocate its prey.

Jerien was briefly overlooked as the sabre cat slowly and deliberately choked her horse. She quietly dragged herself out from under the dying mare and pulled her bow over her shoulder. She slowly stood and aimed at the cats' head and released her arrow. The beast flinched as it let go of her dying horse, then leisurely turned and looked at her with the arrow sticking out of its shoulder, the electricity only causing it a mild annoyance. It hissed and growled as it leapt up, the horse forgotten about as it gave its full attention to the smaller of the two initial targets. Jerien barely had enough time to drop her bow and pull up her shield. The cat barreled into her with all its weight. She was knocked back but didn't go down. She unsheathed her elven war axe and buried it deep into the already injured shoulder of the sabre cat. It howled and backed off, pulling itself away from her weapon as it receded to a safer distance.

The cat began to limp clockwise around Jerien. It was smart enough to keep just out of range of the swing of her axe. Jerien began to get dizzy from the bump on her head and turning around in circles, but wasn't about to let the animal flank her. It was bleeding profusely and would have to do something soon. She yelled at it and flailed her arms about trying to scare it or force it to attack her again, but the cat continued its slow pace. Jerien finally got tired of their little dance and sheathed her axe. She kept her shield in front of her so the animal couldn't see what she was doing as she began to form an ice spike. She threw it at the cat just as it decided to spring. It hit the creature in the abdomen as it tackled her to the ground. Massive claws raked across every exposed patch of skin as she continued to fire the ice spears into the creature's body. She continued filling the cats' torso with icicles until the beast stopped moving and her magica ran out.

Jerien rolled the body of the dead feline off her. She was wet and slick with blood and sweat. She felt as if her flesh had been flayed off her body. Ribbons of skin were hanging from her arms and she could feel part of her right cheek swinging back and forth. She tried to heal what she could, but she was absolutely spent. Crawling over to her horse and pack, she rummaged around until she found a healing potion and drank it all in one gulp. Jerien laid there on the ground, lying on the intestines of her dead horse, drinking potion after potion until her body was healed enough for her to move on.

After an hour or so, she finally rose up and looked around, taking stock of the scene around her. Another trusty steed dead in a matter of hours. The sun was beginning to set and she didn't feel like staying the night out in the open just in case there were more sabre cats about, so she gathered up her pack and her bow from where she dropped it earlier and continued on her way west. Jerien was physically healed from her wounds, but was so tired it was difficult to keep her eyes open as she walked on. Her map showed a town up ahead and she was praying to the Nine that she would make it there before she passed out.

Several times she slowed down and thought about taking a nap on the side of the road by a tree, but Jerien knew that if she stopped to rest, she would sleep so deeply that she wouldn't be able to defend herself if attacked. She struggled onward, until she saw the dim glow of the village Rorikstead, in the distance. She would have smiled if it didn't take so much effort. Jerien continued on until she was at the entrance of the Frostfruit Inn. It took more effort than she believed she had to walk up the four steps and open the door.

Three Redguard men with scimitars on their hips were sitting at a far bench laughing and chatting like they didn't have a care in the world. One appeared to be highly intoxicated as he fell off the bench and splayed himself out on the floor in a comical manner. The proprietor was standing behind the bar at the other end of the building with his arms crossed over his chest. He was in a deep conversation with a young man with strawberry blonde hair that looked like a smaller, slimmer version of himself.

"And how old were you when you left to home?" the younger one asked.

"I know where this is going Erik, don't start with me again. I've told you, Skyrim is more dangerous now-a-days. It's not the same as when I was your age. You're much safer here with me, on the farm." The proprietor said.

The young man appeared to stomp one of his feet and put his hands on his hips. "But I don't want to be safe on a farm growing dull and old! I'm not afraid of what's out there! I can handle myself."

"That's your mother's side of the family coming out, nomads and gypsy's the lot of them! There's nothing wrong with forming good strong roots son. Just give me another season, maybe two, and then we'll talk again." The older man said, trying to compromise. He looked over and noticed Jerien and his demeanor changed, "Welcome traveler! What can the Frostfruit Inn offer you?" he said with a smile.

"Bed, sleep." Jerien managed to say as she held out enough gold for a weeks stay.

"Of course, of course, I can see you're dead on your feet! My son will show you to your quarters immediately! Erik! Show the lady to her room." The man said to his son as he gladly took the coin. The son, huffing a little, did as his father asked and escorted Jerien to a room to her left. She was asleep before her head even hit the pillow.

Jeriens dreams were every disturbing. She tossed and turned as she fought invisible foes in her sleep. Several times she raised up her hands and they froze like they were about to form an ice spike or smoldered as if to form a fireball. The spells died away quickly before she could fully form anything but she still managed to singe her covers and encase one of her pillows in ice. She spoke as she attempted to slumber. "No, I'm not…." "I will!" "How can…?" "No….NO!"

Despite her troubled sleep, Jerien woke the next morning feeling well rested but famished. She ordered a very hardy breakfast of a dozen eggs, ham, bread with butter, a boiled crème tart, two sweet rolls and a snowberry crostata. She also purchased several loaves of bread and few goat cheese wheels just to take along because she didn't think she was done eating yet. Her stomach was still growling as she walked out of the Inn into the morning light.

"Out to face the day and a new journey, eh? I envy you." She heard as she walked down the steps. She turned and saw the proprietor's son, Erik, chopping wood off to her right.

"You envy me, huh? Even though I showed up on your doorstep in the middle of the night, half dead?" she asked him.

"Why wouldn't I? You look like you've seen your fair share of adventures. You must have a most glorious record of deeds! Oh, to travel the land and partake in such escapades! Maybe…maybe you could help me. You see my father, Mralki, used to be an adventurer like you. He fought in the Great War but was wounded; he took an arrow to the knee. It was a career ending injury and he was sent back home. He met my mother, they had me and he became a farmer. Unfortunately he has lost all of his will for adventure after that. I know that he would listen to you if you said that you saw something in me…something of a daring and bold nature. I am, I have, I can assure you. I just need someone to convince him. I can't stand the thought of being stuck here in this village for the rest of my life, doing nothing but turning the ground." The young man had such a pleading look in his eyes. Jerien saw a lot of herself in him and immediately turned around to head back into the Inn.

"Back again my friend?" The innkeeper said. "Is there something more I can do for you? Lunch will be served in just a few hours…venison chops."

"That's not why I returned, but that does sound delicious. No, there's something I think we need to talk about. Erik is your son, is he not?" she asked him.

"Yes, what about him? He's alright, isn't he?" Mralki asked. "He should be chopping firewood right now."

"Yes, he's fine. I just noticed that his potential might be wasted here doing menial tasks. He has something about him that would be better suited to a roving way of life." Jerien said walking up to the bar.

"Ah, so my son has been talking to you. Did he mention the civil war that is raging around Skyrim? No? With his mother gone, it's my duty as a father to make sure he is safe." The man stopped cleaning the tankard he was holding and looked Jerien directly in the eyes. "He's my son, my only child. I will never have another, so I need to keep him safe, keep him home. He has no idea of what's out there, of what he could get himself into."

"I understand your love for your child. You want to protect him and watch over him… but when it comes down to it … at what cost?" Jerien leaned over the bar and matched Mralki's stare. "The civil war you mentioned will eventually find its way here. Are you willing to keep him hidden in the dark so much that when the real darkness comes calling, he has no way of defending himself? Do you really want to extinguish that flame in your sons' heart, to make him bitter and resentful towards you? Because that's what will happen. Trust me, I know. My mother did just that to me. She believed she was doing what was best for me and she did it out of love too, I hope. But all it did was drive a wedge between us. The more she tried to keep me close, to keep me 'safe' for my own good, the more I pushed her away. I just wanted her to trust me, to believe in me. But she refused. She would say it was 'for my own good' or that she 'knew better'. So, one day, I saw a way to escape and I took it and didn't look back." She swallowed hard and did her best to keep the tears that were brimming in her eyes from falling. She hadn't meant to reveal this much about herself. She didn't know that this simple conversation would make her feel this way. "I honestly don't know if I will ever return or even see her again. Is that what you want to happen to you and your son?"

The man held her gaze, trying to judge if she spoke the truth or not, then looked down at the cup he was drying and sighed. "No. That's not what I want for him, for us. I want him to grow and be his own man, I really do, but, to let him go, out on his own, (sigh) it's just so hard. Maybe. Maybe, if I had armor to give him, I might let him go. But my old armor is rusted and beyond repair. And besides, I don't think it would fit him right." Mralki shook his head. "Business has been slow here at the Inn lately though. Finding the money to properly equip him will be difficult."

"What if I help?" Jerien asked. "I have some extra armor that I could loan him until he pays it off."

"Why would you do this? You don't know me or my son." The man said.

"No, I don't. But I've had help on my journey from people who didn't know me. And without their help, I know I would not be here today. They took a chance to help a stranger and now it's my turn." She said.

"How would he pay it off?" the father asked.

"By coming with me. I am on a journey to find some ancient ruins northeast of here. I could use a traveling companion and I would definitely benefit by having a second sword by my side. He can borrow a set of armor from me until he has earned enough to purchase it outright or find a set of his own."

"So you want me to just let him go off with some stranger? Mralki said, crossing his arms in front of him.

"Better with me than off on his own. He has a better chance of staying alive and returning to you if he travels with an acquaintance rather than being all alone, doesn't he? Because eventually he will leave. You know this to be true." the Nord female said.

"I…I cannot deny the truth of what you say." The innkeeper went silent. He seemed to be wrestling with demons that he knew he couldn't overcome. He closed his eyes and nodded. "Alright. Erik! Erik, come here!" the man said. Erik was already coming through the door with a load of kindling when his father called him.

"Yes father?" he asked in a hopeful voice as he unloaded the chopped wood.

"You're new friend here is quite convincing. She has persuaded me to change my mind about you wanting to spread your wings."

"Really father!? I can't believe it! You won't be disappointed in me. I'll show you what a great adventurer I can be!" Erik said.

"Now wait just a minute. She has agreed to loan you some armor, but you won't be entirely on your own, yet, at first. She has agreed to travel with you a ways." Mralki said.

"What? Am I to have a baby sitter?" Erik said. "Did he put you up to this? Did he say that I can't be on my own?" he demanded to know.

Jerien let him calm down for a minute before she spoke. "No, it was my idea. I am being sent on a quest by the Greybeards and I have realized on the way that I could use a traveling companion. I am also loaning you the armor and I am wanting to make sure I don't lose my investment." Her reasoning seemed to cool his temper a little. "Now, this has already put me behind today. Take these and change." Jerien said as she handed him a set of leather armor. "Fill a pack with a bedroll, some extra clothing, supplies and food and meet me out front in 30 minutes, no more. I will be leaving then with or without out you." The Nord female said as she walked out of the inn. The young man looked down at his newly acquired armor then back to his father. They both smiled, one with anticipation and excitement and the other with worry and a little sadness.

Chapter 14:

Twenty nine minutes later, Jerien and her new cohort left Rorikstead on their way North. The young man insisted on walking with his shield ready and his sword out. The Nord woman tried to tell him that he was wasting energy but he maintained his vigilance. He stayed on high alert for almost an hour when he finally decided that they were safe enough for him to sheathe his weapon.

As they walked, Jerien inquired about his previous experience with weapons and armor, or if he even had any.

"I have some skill with a sword, my dad's old iron blade. He doesn't know it, but I broke into that dusty old chest of his that has all of his old equipment from the war stored in it." Erik said, looking around as if his father could hear him and he would get in trouble. "Ever since I've come of age, I've been sneaking out in the middle of the night wearing his armor and practicing with the sword. I've killed hundreds of skeevers, wolves and mudcrabs over the years on my patrols around the village at night. I've taken out a dozen or so frost spiders, all on my own. I even killed a man once, a bandit. He had been creeping into the village at night, stealing small items. No one seemed to care about the thefts, but then I took notice of how he looked at Sissel and Britte one day when he was at our inn during the noon meal. It unnerved me. Then I caught him attempting to sneak into their window in Lemkil's house that next night." Erik sighed and had a faraway look in his eyes for a moment. "I know that no one knows or cares what I'm doing, but it makes me feel like a protector of the realm. And it, … it just feels right."

His honesty surprised the Nord woman. "Do you know how to use a bow?" she asked.

"Oh yes. Father taught me how to hunt for deer when I was little. I'm a pretty good shot and do most of the hunting for the whole village. I've even taken down a sabercat once." The young man said proudly.

"Well, hunting deer and taking another's life that's trying to take yours are two completely different experiences. If we run into bandits or thugs, you'll have to defend yourself. They won't be play fighting, they will take your life if given the chance. You are to show them no mercy, for you will receive none from them. Do you understand Erik?" Jerien stopped walking and faced the man to emphasize her point.

He thought about it for a few seconds and then nodded. "I understand."

They continued down the path for an hour or more, Jerien asking the young man about growing up being the son of a farmer and what he thinks the future has in store for him. He was unsure, but knew it entailed more than just pushing a hoe around. The young Nord asked her about being Dragonborn.

No one had ever asked Jerien how she felt about all that was happening to her. She mulled it over for a minute or two and said, "I've always felt like an outsider, like I never truly belonged. I constantly sensed that something was missing but I could never put my finger on it. It was like I was in a dream, but someone else's dream that I was just a part of. Never in control, just going through the motions." Jerien said. "When I shouted at a dragon for the first time, something inside me stirred and started to come alive." She laughed a little at an inner thought and continued, "To tell you the truth, it scared me at first. I refused to believe that I was this mythical 'Dragonborn' because it was just too preposterous. I couldn't wrap my mind around it. But then I met with the Greybeards and they explained it to me, and it all just seemed to make sense. To think that if I'd never left home, that if I had not escaped the protected and safe circle of my Mother's influence, I would have never found my true self or my real path in life. I hope that by convincing your father to let you leave the nest, it will help you find your true self also."

"Thank you." Erik said. "I appreciate you helping me."

"Oh, don't thank me yet. Your father is right, Skyrim is a dangerous place. You're going to be tried and tested at every turn."

As if on cue, they rounded a bend in the road and crossed a stone bridge that led them to a sheer cliff of rock. The path continued down a narrow gap between where the cliff split in two. A wooden bridge had been constructed connecting the two sides. Jerien noticed two figures on each side get up and ready their weapons as they got closer to the structure. She leaned over and whispered to Erik, "I think you're about to be tested. Watch my lead. Stay low and be quick."

"STOP! That's far enough." One of the figures on the left said. "This is a toll road, you must pay to get past. Toll is…100 gold…each."

"Oh, well, sorry friend, but that's too much for me and my colleague here, we'll just turn around and cross up the way." Jerien yelled up at the man.

"Haha, unfortunately there is no other way 'round. This is the only pass for miles and you have already crossed our bridge. So, unless you want to do this the hard way, I suggest that you pay. And regrettably, the fee is now… 200 gold a piece for safe passage… friend." The man smiled and winked at Jerien as he looked down at her. She could tell at a glance that he was an Imperial. He was shorter than her and not as well muscled. His skin was very pale and it made his dark brown hair look even darker. His hooked nose and narrow eyes made him look like a hawk. But she knew an Imperial by their smile. It gave them a look like they knew something she didn't. She always hated that look. It was that damn smile that made her chose to kill him first.

Within half a heartbeat, Jerien had pushed Erik under the wooden bridge and unslung her bow. She released two arrows that hit the bandit in the right cheek and chest. The impact knocked him backwards while electricity ran back and forth between the arrows that stuck out of his body, stopping his heart. One of the outlaws watching from the right side of the cliff was stunned at what he saw and was slow to react. Jerien and Erik were already running when he began firing iron arrows at them. They impaled the ground at their feet as they ran under the bridge. Farther down, someone pulled a lever that caused dozens of large boulders to roll down the side of the cliff above them. "Erik! Watch out!" she yelled. They flattened themselves against the side of the overhang to avoid being crushed by the rocks. "Are you alright?" she asked him after the dust had cleared. He nodded and pulled his bow off his back. "There are at least two above us and I saw one more on the left side but I'm guessing there are more." She whispered. "We're going to have to split up to divide their attention."

"Any advice?" he whispered breathlessly.

"Yeah, be quick and don't get killed." She said to him before she ran across the path to the other side of the cliff and started up a set of wooden stairs two steps at a time. Jerien didn't remember seeing a bow on the back of the other bandit that was behind the Imperial so she wasn't worried about an arrow coming from in front of her, just from the archers on the other side. She found a Redguard female on a landing at the top of the stairs, leaning over the body of her fallen comrade. Jerien fired an arrow and hit the woman in the lower back, right between her hip bones. She grunted and went down, and from the look on her face, she wasn't going to be getting back up very quickly. The woman looked very young and Jerien almost felt bad for her but the thought as cut short at an arrow whizzed by her face. She turned and inhaled deeply but stopped short. Erik was already at the top of the other landing, battling a Redguard male that looked very similar to the girl she just paralyzed. They were just yards away from the bandit that was taking aim at her again. If she shouted, Erik would most certainly get a portion of the force. Instead, she ran across the wooden bridge and directly towards the archer. She slung her bow and pulled up her shield in one swift motion. An arrow skipped across the surface of her shield as she pulled out her war axe. The next arrow penetrated just above her left arm and caused a deep gouge that start bleeding profusely. She rammed headlong into the bandit and the impact jarred him, making him drop his bow. Jerien dropped her shield and swung her axe with both hands. The man put his arms up to protect himself from the blow. He screamed as his left forearm was cleaved from his body just below the elbow. He dropped to his knees and grabbed his arm to try and stop the flow of blood. Jerien showed him no mercy as she embedded her axe deep into his skull right above his left ear, killing him instantly.

"You think you can take me boy?" She turned to see the Redguard male pummeling Erik's shield with a heavy steel mace. "Is that all you got?" He was smiling as each blow pushed her friend further and further back until he was pinned up against part of the cliff. Another bandit, a male Nord wearing fur armor, was running towards Erik from the left with a dagger in his hand. Jerien quickly formed a ball of fire and threw it at the thug. He yelled as the fireball exploded on his chest. The bandit dropped to the ground and started to roll around to try and extinguish the flames that were consuming his armor. Jerien looked back as Erik deflected another blow from the Redguards' mace with his shield and thrust his sword into the small space that appeared between the mans' cuirass and grieves as the bandit raised his arm again. He stabbed the man's abdomen several times in the matter of seconds. The startled look on the thugs face made it clear that he wasn't expecting the young Nords' quick attack. The Redguard tried to swing at Erik one more time as he dropped his mace and gripped his stomach. He fell to his knees and looked back over his shoulder to where the paralyzed female was whimpering on the ground across the bridge. "Aarden." He whispered as Erik plunged his sword into the dying man's throat, cutting off any further speech.

"Are you okay?" Jerien asked Erik as she healed the gash on her forearm and jogged up to him. He nodded as he held his shield arm close to his body. "Are you hurt?"

"I'll be alright." He said. His face looked ashen and he was sweating. She put her hand on his arm and felt the bones move. Erik screamed out in pain.

"Dammit Erik! Your arm's broken!" Jerien scolded him as she whispered another healing spell. He grimaced as the bones began to knit back together under his skin. She pushed a healing potion into his other hand and said, "This is no time for false bravado! That way of thinking will get you killed. You're of no use to me if you're dead. Do you understand that?" The boy nodded as the spell mended his arm. Her lecture was interrupted by a lightning bolt that hit her back and locked up her muscles as it took all the breath from her lungs.

The Nord that she had hit with a fireball a moment ago was fighting back with a spell of his own. He had extinguished most of the flames and was getting back to his feet. "Haha, forgot about me did you?" he said.

Jerien gritted her teeth and turned towards him. She let loose two ice spikes from each hand that hit him in his upper chest and stomach with enough force to flip him backwards. He fell to the ground as his last breath left his body. She looked back at Erik and said, "Like I said, false bravado will get you killed."

The young Nord breathed deeply and nodded at her. 'Good, he seems to learn quickly.' She thought to herself. "Are you healed? Do you need another potion?" she asked him.

"No, I'm good now. Thank you." He rubbed his forearm and moved his wrist around in a circle. "Be quick and don't get killed huh? Great advice."

"You're still alive, aren't you?" she asked as she gave him a small smile. "You surprised that Redguard with finding that opening in his armor and with the quickness with your blade. He wasn't expecting that. You have been practicing."

"I told you. I'm a fighter not a farmer. No matter what my father thinks." Erik stood and pushed himself away from the rock he had been leaning on. He walked over and picked up his bow that he had dropped when he was forced to defend himself from the Redguard.

"Throw that old bow of your fathers away. The Imperial across the bridge had a much better one that I think would suit you better. Go get it. And search the rest of the bodies for coin or anything useful." Erik looked at her with a surprised expression on his face. "They're dead Erik. They won't be needing their weapons or armor anymore. If the roles were reversed, they would have no problem looting your corpse for valuables."

The young man held his breath and looked at her. She could tell by his clenched jaw that he was battling an inner war about what he thought was right. Jerien saw in his face that he had never realized what the raw details of being a 'warrior' were all about. She was hoping that his father had enlightening him on what the spoils of war meant. Erik looked over at the Redguard and said, "I think these are the bandits that raid my village every spring. He has a nice steel helm. I think it would fit me very well." Jerien gave him a single nod as he walked away and kneeled down to search the dead man.

Jerien turned and began to make her way up a narrow path that led to a wooden shack that overlooked the plateau they had fought on. She was second guessing her second guess of taking on a follower. He might not be the burden she initially thought he would be. She walked over the threshold of the cabin and was lost in her thoughts when she was hit from behind and thrown across the room into the wall. She wasn't even able to turn around when she was hit again and felt her ribs break from behind. She tried to breathe and lift her hands up but her body wasn't responding. Jerien was barely able to turn her head and see a tall female Altmer with a large war hammer slung over her shoulder, smiling back at her. The high elf took a quick look out the door to sneak a peek at Erik as he was heading away from them, crossing the wooden bridge, and then turned back to the Nord woman on the floor.

"False bravado, eh? What about leeettttting your guaaarrrrd doooowwnnn?" she said in a sing song voice as she walked towards Jerien. Her smile spread wider across her face as she lifted her weapon above her head. Jerien grunted out loud as she tried her best to move her arms. She groaned as no fire formed on her hands that lay limp against her sides. She whimpered in frustration as her body did not respond to the commands from her brain to get up and defend itself.

The elf looked over and her smile faded as she saw Jerien's face. "Seraphina?" the elf said. She let her heavy weapon drop gently to the floor. Her golden eyes could not hold anymore surprise.

"M-m-m….mothe…m-m-mother." Jerien said with what little air there was in her lungs. Each breath was excruciating. She looked up at her potential killer with a pleading look in her eyes. The female elf kneeled down and moved Jerien's face to get a better look at her. It caused a searing pain to roll down the back of her skull that stopped at the top of her rib cage, confirming that she was as paralyzed. Her lips quivered as the high elf rotated her head around to see every angle of her face.

"I've been leading this band of thieves for over a year now and we have been quite profitable. But you, my sweet, are worth a thousand times all the loot we've collected." Her white teeth seemed to glow against the dark burgundy of her lips as the smile came back to her face. She gently bit at her lower lip with her teeth. "But you're worth nothing dead. Do I have your promise that you will be a good little girl if I feed you a healing potion?" It took all Jerien's strength to move her head up and down just slightly. The pain almost made her black out. "Hmmmmmmm, I don't believe you." She said, waving her finger at the Nord. "I don't think you're being sincere." The elf got up and walked over to a book shelf. She bent over and picked up some leather strips from the bottom shelf and began to tie Jerien's feet together. "Is that too tight?" She asked. "Oops, haha, sorry. I guess you can't tell, can you?" The high elf straddled Jeriens back as she pulled her hands together and began to bind them with the straps. "I just can't wait to see what they'll pay for…" the elf didn't finish her sentence as the tip of a burning sword emerged from her steel breast plate.

The High Elf watched the progress the sword made through her body with absolute horror. She gasped and coughed as the hot metal moved its way slowly up her chest, melting her armor as it went. Her wounds didn't bleed, the searing heat from the blade cauterized them instantly. It emerged from its path above her right shoulder. She looked at Jerien with a shocked and pleading look in her eyes. A hand reached over and pushed the elf off of the paralyzed woman. Erik stood there for a moment longer, looking down at the dying elf, and at what he'd done. He shook his head and snapped out of it as he saw Jerien lying in a heap.

"Jerien!" He said as he tried to lift her off the floor and roll her limp body over. The Nord grunted and almost passed out. A cold glass rim was pushed up against her lips. "Drink." She heard a voice say. Jerien wasn't sure her mouth or tongue would obey her, and was pleasantly surprised as she felt the cool liquid fill her mouth and slide down her throat. The elixir began to immediately repair the damage done to her body by the blunt object. Erik let up for a few seconds so she could catch her breath and began to feed her the potion again. Once the bottle was empty, he grabbed another and continued to nurse her back to health. After the third potion, Jerien was able to move her arms and hold the next bottle herself. Erik loosely held the vial as she drank, just to make sure she didn't drop it.

"Why did that elf bind your legs and hands? Why didn't she just kill you?" Erik asked as Jerien healed the rest of her internal wounds with magika.

"Apparently she thought I would be worth more alive than dead." She said as she sat on the floor of the shack eating one of the cheese wheels and bread she had purchased from Erik's father. Healing herself from such severe wounds seemed to make her ravenous. She also wanted to curl up on one of the hay mats in the corner and sleep for a week. She knew that Erik would have no problem with her taking a quick nap and would stand guard over her for however long it took for her to fully recuperate, but she fought against the thought.

Erik looked at her as if he knew that she wasn't telling him the whole truth but didn't ask any more questions. They looted the bandit chiefs' body and the shack. Jerien studied the woman as Erik removed her light elven boots. She had the same white hair as the Inquisitor but it was cut short to be even with her chin. The womans' eyes were the color of a gold ingot but they seemed to share the same cut chin and cheek bones. Again she noticed that the elf had a look about her that made her seem much older than what she appeared to be. Jerien couldn't tell if this elf really did look like the High Inquisitor or if all High Elves had the same features. She tried to commit every feature to memory so she could compare them to the next Altmer she met. Hopefully it will be on better terms than her previous interactions with them.

Erik showed her the dwarven sword that he killed the high elf with. Its previous owner was the Redguard that Jerien had paralyzed. If he held it a certain way, it would heat up and burn as hot as lava, as it did when it cut through the Atlmers armor. He also found some better armor and gave the Nord her initial investment back. Jerien picked the lock of a very large, very intricate chest and found a set of green glass armor that fit her perfectly. It moved easily and was surprisingly light. She chose not to wear the helmet because she felt like it restricted her field of vision and opted instead for a gold and sapphire circlet that seemed to increase her magika when she placed it on her head.

They stuffed their packs with what valuables they could carry. Jerien pointing out to Erik what armor and weapons he should keep in order to trade or sell later due to being worth more. She also found an interesting book that taught her how to create a ball of light that followed her around once summoned. Erik found the second installment of 'The Lusty Argonian Maid' in a bedside drawer and Jerien laughed as his face became flushed as he opened it and read a paragraph.

The duo left the bandit camp and continued on their way North. Before they left, Erik asked if they should bury the bandit's bodies or move them. Jerien game him a firm "No" and he didn't argue. She also didn't ask him how the young Redguard female met her fate. Neither of them had much to say as they walked until dusk.

Jerien found a defendable place to sleep for the night underneath a rock outcropping. She built a small fire and they ate a simple dinner of venison, bread with butter, cheese, and ale. "Get some sleep, I'll take the first watch." She said. The boy acted like he wanted to say something, but nodded and lay down on his bed roll. A few minutes later, a gentle snore came from his direction. 'This is probably the most excitement he's ever had' she thought to herself as she poked the fire.

Her watch passed quickly and it soon came time for Jerien to wake her companion for his shift. She stood and stretched her back and noticed movement to her left. She saw a tree move slowly and deliberately in the open meadow across from where they were bed down. One of the moons came out from behind a cloud and she saw it was a giant like the one she had helped the Companions of Whiterun take down. It stopped walking and looked over at her. She slowly bent down and grabbed her bow. She notched an arrow and aimed at the creature as light from the second moon shone down to illuminate the land. Jerien could see the giants' face clearly as it slowly shook its head side to side as it looked back at her. It had a sadness to it that surprised the Nord. She held its gaze as she lowered her weapon. It nodded once at her and continued on away from their camp.

Jerien waited until her heart was beating at its normal pace before she woke Erik. "My watch already?" he asked as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. "Anything exciting happen?"

"Nope. Just another normal night in Skyrim." Jerien thought it best to keep her interaction with the giant a secret from the boy. "Just make sure you keep your eyes open. If something is not a threat, leave it be." She said as she lay down. She was sure that after her standoff with the giant it would be difficult to get to sleep, but within minutes, she too was fast asleep.

Chapter 15:

Jerien woke the next morning just before dawn feeling like she hadn't sleep at all. They had a quick breakfast and were off as the sun rose. She checked her map and told Erik that they should reach Morthal in less than an hour if they kept up their current pace. The silence that dominated yesterday evening had remained and was almost like a third person walking between them as they came upon the town.

Erik finally broke the tension, "I've never been to Morthal before. It seems silly since it's less than a days journey from where I've lived my whole life, huh?"

"Not really. Mother owned property and houses all over Cyrodiil. We moved around a lot, but not once did we travel to the east, to Cheydinhal, where my father was born. Mother said it brought up too many sad memories of him for her. Apparently there is still an old fort there that has been in his family for generations. It was always my dream to go there someday and explore it."

"Did you?" Erik asked.

"No, but I let Mother think that's where I'd run off to when I finally made my escape. I knew she would send men there looking for me. Instead I went straight North, to Bruma and then smuggled myself across the border into Skyrim."

"Do you think you'll ever go back to Cyrodiil?" Erik inquired.

Jerien gave it a moment or two of thought. "I don't know." She said, "I really don't know. But right now, I'm needed here. Nothing is more important than getting to the bottom of this dragon issue. Because if I don't, there may not be a Cyrodiil to go back to."

The pair passed several town guards as they made their way through Morthal. One even stopped and spoke with them. "Watch the skies traveler. A dragon has been spotted flying south of here, near the mountains. People say it has taken up residence there at an old ruined temple. I'd steer clear from there if I were you."

"Has it been seen near the town?" The Nord female asked.

"Not yet, but it's only a matter of time. No need to worry though, Jarl Idgrod has increased our patrols to help protect the people of Morthal. We'll keep everyone safe." The guard gave her a tense smile and walked away. Jerien could sense that he didn't really feel that confident but she admired his ability to put on a brave face.

They headed north from the town and followed a river that wound its way to the east, towards their destination. Soon they came upon a large stone mound that was surrounded by a dozen large standing stones. Several makeshift shelters and tents had been built between a few of them, but were unoccupied. Jerien walked up to the mound and noticed that there were flat stone steps spiraling down the center of the dome. She couldn't see to the bottom so she cast her new spell and a blue orb appeared above her right shoulder as she made her way down. She followed the steps down to the bottom and found a body that lay on the ground by the door. It looked to be deliberately moved out of the way so someone else could enter. The dead Nord looked to have been there for a while and the smell emanating from his corpse was overwhelming. Jerien didn't care if he had a thousand septims in the satchel he was laying on, there was no way she was going to loot him to find out. Erik had his hand over his nose and mouth and he looked like he was about to lose his breakfast. They hurried by the carcass and into the tomb.

Luckily the smell of decomposition stayed outside as Erik shut the heavy door behind them. Jeriens' floating orb gave off a soft light so they could easily see that they were in a dirt walled cavern. She was surprised to see some iron candelabras had been set up off to the side and lit. Both of them drew their weapons and they waited until Jeriens' floating torch faded away before they ventured on.

"We're definitely not alone." She whispered to Erik. "Step where I step and don't make any noise." She sheathed her axe and unslung her bow. Erik mimicked her and notched an arrow as he fell into line behind her. The candles by the entrance gave off just enough light for them to continue on without having to light a torch. A lantern was on the floor just up ahead, lighting up the opening of a larger room. They stayed tight against the left wall as they sneaked their way into the huge cavern. They passed several crypts that had been dug into the walls. Most had corpses that were tightly wrapped in ancient linen in them. A mummified body of a female warrior was lying on the ground in front of one of them. It was wearing ancient armor that was as withered and brittle looking as the body it was draped on. The corpse looked hundreds of years old and dried up, but to their surprise, it had fresh wounds on it. Someone had recently done battle with this cadaver and their blood had coagulated on the antique looking sword still clutched in the dead body's hand. Jerien assumed it was the work of some necromancer that had enchanted the old carcass to fight. She wondered how difficult a spell like that would be to learn. It might come in handy.

Erik nudged her and pointed towards the far end of the cave. A woman in a dark robe was walking away from a fire pit carrying a plate towards a wooden table. She stopped at a pile of sacks and barrels and rummaged around until she found a bright red apple and took a bite. "You shouldn't be eating that. That's Uglags' food bag. You know how he gets when he thinks someone has touched his things." A male voice said.

"As if I care about some dumb thugs' property. He'll never know I took one measly apple. I doubt he can even count." The mage said. She sat down and took an even bigger bite of the apple, as to accentuate the fact that she felt no fear from retaliation for the theft.

"Should we go check on the others? They've been gone quite a while." The man asked.

"No. Talvan and Mirren know what they're doing. We are to stay here and guard the entrance," the mage scoffed and continued, "As if we have to worry about that. No one has been down in this rotten dungeon for centuries."

"Somebody was here. Damar didn't just up and kill himself before we got here. Somebody murdered him and put him in front of the door to warn us." The bandit turned and pointed towards the entrance. "That somebody could return and do the same to us!"

"Calm down, you're being paranoid. No one killed your idiot friend." The woman scoffed again as she took a bite of her food. "His own stupidity killed him. He got drunk and fell head first down the steps. You saw all the empty bottles of mead at the camp. And if somebody were to enter here, I would dispatch them with a flick of my wrist." The mage emphasized her point by throwing a fireball at the campfire, making it flare up to the ceiling. The man jumped back to avoid being burned and then angrily poked the fire with a stick once it shrank back to its original size.

Jerien motioned Erik to stand beside her. She pointed at herself and then at the mage. She then pointed at Erik and then to the Nord male who now had his back towards them. Erik nodded and pulled his bow taut. "On three." Jerien barely whispered. "One…two…three."

Erik released his arrow a split second before Jerien. His target grunted from the impact of the arrow and went down, falling onto the fire. The mage that Jerien was aiming for turned towards the man as he fell and moved just enough so that the arrow lodged in the woman's right arm instead of her chest. The electric current given to the arrow from the bow shocked the mage just enough to keep her off guard so that Jerien and Erik were able to fire another arrow each. The mage fell forward onto the table as both arrows punctured her lungs. Her breathing was shallow and raspy and blood was coming from her mouth and nose as the pair inched their way forward into the room. She was dead by the time they reached her. Jerien picked up the half eaten apple that lay by the dead woman's hand and finished it, tossing the core back on the table. Erik pulled the other body off of the fire. The hide armor the man wore was no longer salvageable but Erik took the dwarven bow the man had slung across his back. "Just needs a new string and it will be good as new." He said.

"It looks to be a magical bow, do you know how to re-string a magical bow?" Jerien asked him.

"Well, no, but I'm sure I can find a blacksmith that would be willing to teach me." Erik said.

"For a price. It would be a good skill to know. Here, let me show you what I know about picking a lock. It's also a good skill to have." Jerien showed him the ins and outs of lock picking and let him try. He broke three lock picks on the average lock but finally it popped open. She let him keep everything that was in the chest for his effort. It wasn't much: a scaled horned helmet, a pair of leather boots, a steel dagger and steel shield, a dozen septims and a simple silver ring. Erik was proud of himself for getting the lock opened though and treated each piece as a treasure.

Jerien let him revel in his accomplishment for a moment more and then motioned for him to follow her to the left, down an offshoot of the main cavern. More metal candelabras and lanterns were strategically placed along the floor to give off enough light to reach the next section without having to light a separate torch. The tunnel angled downwards deeper into the ground. They passed a dozen small chambers that had already been ransacked and yielded nothing. They continued on and had traveled about fifty yards when they heard a commotion from up ahead.

"What was that?" They heard someone shout. It was followed by "Over here! Watch out!" They heard metal clashing and yelling coming from around a bend. Jerien slowed down and peeked around the corner. She saw two mages in black robes battling a walking corpse that looked similar to the one they had come across in the main chamber. One mage was dousing their attacker in a fire spell while the other was throwing ice spikes at its back. The creature raised a huge rusted battle axe above its head and swung down on the head of the fire mage. The blow almost cleaved his body in two pieces. "Noooo!" the ice mage yelled. The cadaver turned towards the woman and began to walk towards her. She shot two more ice spikes at the creatures face and it went down with a giant icicle in its brain. The woman rushed over to her fallen comrade and knelt down beside him. Jerien notched an arrow and aimed at the mages chest. Two arrows later, the mage was dead, her body lying on top of her slain friend. They stopped long enough at the lifeless wizards to retrieve her arrows and for Erik to loot their satchels before moving on.

They soon passed through an empty stone walled chamber that had a large stone brazier on a pedestal in the center of the room. It looked as if this is where the battle had started. There were scorch marks on the walls and floor. Two more of the old dried out corpses were lying in front of the far wall along with a body of another hired thug, an Orc. He was heavily muscled and his face had exaggerated features and a large flat nose. His mouth was hanging open and she could easily see his enlarged canines and two rows of fierce looking teeth. He was bald and his skin had a green tint to it. Jerien wondered if this was Uglag, the owner of the apples.

There were several smaller rooms that shot off from the main chamber. Some of the rooms were empty but others had large clay pots and old bookshelves in them. The shelves were full of tattered books that looked to be very old. Jerien flipped through some of the volumes to see if she could get anything useful from them, but they were too degraded to read. Erik began looking through the urns and was surprised to find most of them had coins, old jewelry or even a precious gem in them, once you sifted through the cremated remains that were also occupying the vessels.

They methodically searched every room and then continued on down a corridor that led deeper into the ground. It ended at a thick metal door that had several skeletons lying around it. Jerien decided to scoop up the bone dust that seemed to be scattered everywhere on the floor. She remembered reading somewhere that mixed with a few other ingredients, it would help boost the poisonous effects of certain potions.

When they tried to get through the doorway, they found that the door wouldn't budge. There was no keyhole, no release lever and no matter how hard they pushed or kicked it, it never moved. Erik gave up after their twelfth or thirteenth try at getting through and went back to the previous chamber to give it another walk through in case they missed something. Jerien was getting angrier and angrier with every failed attempt. She even tried to melt it with fire but it had no effect on the door. Her ice spikes broke apart upon impact with the immovable entryway. Her frustration finally came to a head and she shouted at the door. "FUS!" she roared. The echo of her shout reverberated off of every surface and caused a small landslide, but the door moved. She ran over to it and saw that it had opened just enough for her to fit her arm through. Her excitement quickly turned to frustration again, when she realized that the door was not going to move any further.

Erik came back into the room with his hands over his ears. She forgot how loud her shouts were to the people around her. "Sorry." She said. "I got the door cracked open, but just barely. Now it's stuck again."

"No, I don't think it's stuck." Erik said. He looked at the door and then back to Jerien, deep in thought. "You're dragonborn, right? And this place is a tomb of a greybeard, right? Maybe that's the key. A shout."

Jerien looked at the young man, then to the door and back at him and smiled. "Erik, you're a genius! Stand back, and cover your ears!" Erik didn't need to be told twice and backed around the corner.

Jerien squared up in front of the door and shouted again. "FUS … RO!" she yelled at the top of her lungs. The door swung open as if on well-oiled hinges. More of the ceiling crumbled down, but she didn't care. Her thoughts were only on what lie further in.

Chapter 16:

Carved stone steps led them to the precipice of an enormous underground grotto. A waterfall was at the far end, a hundred yards away from them. The water collected in a clear pool that sparkled in the light that was shining down from a hole in the ceiling. Sunlight bounced off the surface of the water and reflected off gemstones embedded in the walls to make the chamber seem to be full of stars. It lit up the cavern almost as if it were noon. Huge trees were reaching towards the fissure in the roof and vines crawled over every surface. "By the Nine! Have you ever seen anything so beautiful?" Erik said. Jerien had no words, she just shook her head from side to side.

The path led down and they followed it to the bottom. To their left were several thick stone benches arranged in front of a raised podium with crumbling braziers on each side of it. Jerien wondered what kind of speeches or lectures were given there long ago. She saw movement off to her right and she pulled Erik down with her as she crouched behind one of the benches.

It was a skeleton! A human skeleton, walking around like it didn't have a care in the world. Jerien was dumbfounded to see it walking back and forth with an ancient sword and shield like it was on patrol. She recalled some of Mother's memories of battling wraiths, but to see it first hand, was incredible. She took aim with her bow and fired. The skeleton blew apart as if only a single thread was holding it together. The commotion caught the attention of three other skeletons and they raced over to where their cohort was now just a scattering of bones. Jerien and Erik easily dispatched the emaciated foes.

They continued exploring the cavern and saw that there was a second level. They ascended a set of wide stone steps, keeping an eye out for anything that might sneak up behind them. As Jerien came to the top of the stairs, she felt the floor sink down. Fire blew up from holes in the stone tile she had stepped on. It burned her right leg as she fell to the floor and she rolled to the left in an attempt to put out the flames. She realized that some sort of oil had been spewed up under her grieves from a pressure plate in the floor and it was feeding the flames as they raced along her leg. Jerien used both hands to form a stream of frost to cover her legs. She could feel ice crystals form on the charred flesh of her thigh as it suffocated the fire. She grunted out loud from the pain. She didn't know if it was from the fire or from her own frost spell, but her leg burned all the same.

Erik had watched this all happen and was looking around for a safer route to get to her. He was just about to jump over the top tiles of the landing when they heard a growl and a weapon being pulled slowly from a sheath. One of the walking corpses was stepping out of a carved arch in the wall a dozen yards away from them. Jerien realized that the cadavers were not under a mages spell, but that their reanimation was the result of some other ancient enchantment.

"Erik! Watch out!" she yelled as the walking dead turned towards them. A horrible growl came from its mouth as it raised its sword. Erik shot two arrows into its torso but the corpse didn't seem to notice. Its red eyes were aimed at Jerien as she scrambling backwards to put more distance between them. Erik pulled up his shield, leapt over the top of the stairs and ran towards the creature. It raised its left hand and swatted him away like it would a fly. The boy went sprawling back down the stairs.

"FUS!" Jerien yelled at the corpse. Her shout flung the creature backwards onto an old decaying bookshelf. She was sure that the force at which it hit the edge of the shelf had broken the corpses back, but her jaw dropped as the creature pulled itself up and began walking towards her again.

Jerien had healed her leg by this time and was able to stand. She unslung her bow of lightning and put three arrows into the cadaver by the time it reached her. It grabbed her by the throat and lifted her up off the ground. It latched onto her right arm and began to pull. Jerien tried to cry out as her shoulder was being pulled out of its socket but the grip from the creatures' right hand made it unable for her to breathe, let alone scream. Just as her eyesight began to fade from the pain and lack of oxygen, the grip on her arm abated. The pressure on her throat let up just slightly and she was able to take a quick breath.

The creature was looking down at where its left arm should have been, but only a smoldering stump remained. A second later, its left leg was cut out from under it and it fell, taking Jerien along with it. It released her throat and began to grab at Erik's blade. He latched onto the corpses remaining hand and began to pull it away from Jerien and onto one of the pressure plates. Erik side stepped the tile and left the creature in the center of the plate as flames roared up. It growled as it tried to crawl away. The creatures dried skin greedily soaked up the oil spewing from the tile as fire engulfed the mummified body. Within a few minutes, it was no more than a pile of ash.

Jerien was healing her shoulder when Erik kneeled down beside her. The corpses left hand was still gripped around her wrist and it took him more effort that he believed he would need to pry its fingers open. He could hear her wheezing and grabbed a healing potion for her to drink.

"This is the second time you've had to come to my aid." Jerien asked as she coughed and took a drink. Her throat felt healed but was still scratchy. "Aren't I supposed to be the one saving you?"

"Oh I'm sure there will be plenty of times when you'll need to pull me out of the fire too. Well, hopefully not literally…" he said as he looked over to the pile of ashes. The trap seemed to be out of fuel and only a few small flames still flickered.

"That was quick thinking, pulling that thing over to the pressure plate."

"Well, I realized that brute force wasn't working, and it was the only thing I could think of that might do it some damage." Erik said as he helped Jerien to her feet.

"What are those things?" she asked.

"I think it's a Draugr. They're believed to be warriors that served the Dragon Priests hundreds of years ago. I just assumed they were legend or made up to keep kids away from ancient ruins. I never thought I would actually ever see one."

"Draugr, huh?" Jerien said. "I've heard of wraiths, lichs, zombies and skeletons, but draugr are new to me. Lightning didn't seem to bother it at all, but that fire sure did make short work of it. We'll have to remember that."

They searched the rest of the upper level and found a lot of old coins, some more gems and antique jewelry and hundreds of yards of rotten linen. They also found dozens of menacing looking tools that Jerien guessed were used to make the draugr. She shivered at the thought of using one of those utensils on a person and she hoped that they were already dead by the time they were used.

All of the books they found were crumbling to dust or were too ruined to read. Jerien saw most of the books deteriorating before her eyes and wondered how much knowledge was being lost. She smiled wondering if there was an ancient copy of the Lusty Argonian Maid hidden amongst them.

A set of old wooden steps led them back down to the lower level of the grotto. Jerien did a quick survey and saw two skeletons on patrol. They dispatched them easily and she saw no further movement as she scanned the cavern so she agreed with Erik when he wanted to split up to continue their search. He went off to the right to search a cluster of large urns while Jerien walked off to check out the waterfall. As she walked closer to the pool she thought she heard a deep whispering. She couldn't quite make it out, but she was sure it was dragonspeak. She slipped her axe out of her belt and slowed her steps. The whispering became louder as she came around the back of the waterfall and saw a huge stone altar carved out of the back of the cavern. It was a dozen feet high and twice that in width. Hundreds of runes had been etched into its' surface. The sound was coming from a set of the symbols that was glowing. Jerien walked over to the markings and was reaching up to touch them when an orange light flowed out from the wall and surrounded her. She had felt this sensation before and breathed it in. Her vision blurred slightly as the warmth filled her lungs. When the glow subsided, she smiled because she knew she had learned a new shout. This one was different than the others and would make her become transparent and hard to see when spoken.

"FEIM!" she shouted. Jerien looked down at her arms and she could almost see completely through them. She waved them around in front of her face and was fascinated with the possibilities of being transparent. 'This will definitely come in handy' she thought. She looked up and saw Erik running towards her. His eyes were wide and he was breathing hard.

"Jerien!" he yelled. "Jerien, where are you?" He held his dwarven sword of fire in both hands.

"I'm right here." She said. Erik looked around frantically when he heard her voice. His eyes got even wider as she began to materialize in front of him. "I learned a new shout, what do you think of it?"

"I think you should have warned me first." Erik said has he looked up at the wall of runes. "What is this thing?"

"I'm not sure, I've never seen one before. It definitely has something to do with the greybeards and dragonborns though, I learned a new shout from it." Erik gave her a quizzical look so she quickly explained how she learns dragon shouts. "It was these runes here." She said as she reached up and rubbed the carvings. The stone was cold to her touch. Jerien trailed her hand along the wall, tracing some of the other markings. None of the other runes glowed and she sighed realizing that there was no more knowledge to gain from this altar. She turned and followed Erik who was already in route to the last section of the grotto left to explore.

By the time Jerien caught up with him, he was standing by a set of four large stones that were offset several yards from each other. "Watch this." He said as he walked by the first one. It lit up with a blue light and a metal gate at the end of the row of stones slid up. Beyond that opening was another gate. After several seconds, the blue light faded and the gate came back down with a loud 'Clunk'. He walked to the next stone and it too lit up with a blue glow. They could see through the gaps in the front gate that a second gate was lifted up. Erik went to the third stone, and as the third gate rose up, the second gate slammed back down. "I guess you gotta be quick to get through those gates." He said as he walked back to the first stone. It illuminated and the first gate went up. He ran by the second and the next gate raised up as the coinciding rock shone with the blue light. By the time he was at the third stone, the corresponding gate began to rise, but as it did, the first gate crashed back down. The second gate was also closed by the time he reached the last stone. "I think I could get to them all if I got a running start." he said. Jerien stood back and smiled as the boy went to the far end of the chamber. He ran as fast as he could down the middle of the stones. By the time he got to the fourth stone, the first gate crashed back down. He was barely able to stop short so as not to get crushed. The Nord female let him try two more times before she said, "My turn."

Jerien walked over to the first stone. She looked over at Erik and winked at him. She took a deep breath and shouted, "WULD!" Within a blink of an eye, she had passed by the four stones and was in the middle of the tunnel with the four gates raised above her. She continued running and was safely through the passageway when the metal gates slammed back down. An iron lever was on the wall by the last gate. The Nord walked over to it and pulled it down. Slowly the four gates rose up to reveal Erik standing on the other side of the tunnel with his hands on his hips, scowling at her.

Jerien looked at him with a huge grin on her face. "I almost regret saving you now." He said. The Nord female couldn't hold it in any longer and burst out laughing.

"I had to let you at least try." She said once she got her breath back. Erik continued giving her a dirty look as he walked passed her. He stopped before he descended into a narrow stone stairwell. The light from the main chamber wasn't able penetrate this far into the tunnel so he had to wait for Jerien to catch up and cast her light spell. She was able to maintain her composure as she took the lead.

They walked slowly and cautiously down the stairs. It was obvious from the collections of cob webs they walked through that no one had been this way in quite some time. They had learned from the pressure plate incident earlier that there could be unsprung traps ahead and carefully made their way deeper into the rock. The floating ball of light gave off enough light so that they could see several yards in front of them. The path lead on as they reach the bottom of the stairs and they could see an opening further on. Jerien looked at Erik and they both nodded, an unspoken understanding flowing between them to be prepared for what lay beyond. Erik unslung his bow while Jerien pulled her axe from her belt and created a fireball with her other hand.

A draugr stood motionless in a carved recess in a side wall to their left. Its fingers were interlaced above a large rusted long sword. Its head was tiled back and the eyes were closed. Jerien motioned to Erik to stand right behind her as she knelt down. She pointed to his bow and he nodded as he notched an arrow. "On three." She barely whispered. "And I mean…On…Three." She looked up and back at him to emphasize the importance of firing as one. "One…two…three."

Erik released his arrow and immediately notched a second while Jerien used both hands to spew forth a stream of fire at the creature. It opened its eyes and grunted as it stepped out of the niche it was in. The draugr was not at all happy with being woken up from its thousand year nap and Jerien used all her might to keep the torrent of fire as hot and as continuous as she could. Erik had put five arrows into the draugrs face and upper torso before it dropped to its knees. The weapon fell out of its hand with a clang as it finally succumbed to the fire that had engulfed its body and burned away its fingers. The draugr reached out at its attackers with a stub of an arm before an arrow to the forehead knocked it backwards to the ground. It flailed around as the rest of its extremities were singed away by flames. Jerien let up once the monster stopped moving.

"I think fire may be our best bet to defeat these creatures." Jerien said as she stood up. "You put seven arrows in that thing and they didn't seem to bother it that much. And I think my bow of lightning just pissed the last one off. Remind me to invest in a bow of fire next time we're in town."

"How much would one of those cost?" Erik asked as he mentally added up the worth of all of his loot.

"I don't know, but it will definitely be worth it." She saw him looking through his bag. "Don't sell your own weapons short. You have a dwarven sword that sliced right through the last one like butter, remember?"

"Yeah, but if I don't have to get that close to one, all the better." He said.

"Good point." She replied.

The pair disposed several more draugr in the same manner: a joined attack of Jeriens' fire and Erik's arrows. Most of the creatures they came across were still 'asleep' on their pedestals in arches carved in the walls. But one was up and about, patrolling one of the dark corridors they came upon. Jerien used herself as a decoy to lure the draugr away so Erik could come up from behind it and beheaded it with his sword of fire.

Every time Jerien killed a draugr with her fire, she could feel her magika getting stronger. She seemed to use less of it each time to get the same effect and her flames appeared to be getting hotter and brighter. She even cast a soul trap spell on one of them to see if it even had a soul. To her surprise, a purple flash rose up from the creature as it stopped moving and one of her soul gems grew warm. She gave that one to Erik and showed him how to transfer the power from the gem to his magical weapon to recharge it.

Their path widened and ended at large doorway that spanned the width of the tunnel. The entrance was barred with a thick metal gate. They looked around but didn't see any handle or lever with which to open it. Jeriens' ball of light faded and she was about to let go of a fireball she was currently cradling in her hand to create another orb when the ground began to shake. The gate slowly rolled up and several sconces on the walls popped as they sprang to life. They seemed to create a chain reaction that lit up dozens more along the wall that continued on into the next chamber illuminating the entire room. The cave floor was full of water that sparkled in the firelight. Several large columns lined the walls and held up the ceiling. A wide stone walkway lead down the center of the chamber and ran directly into a large pedestal at the far end. On the pedestal sat a huge stone sarcophagus.

Jerien began to walk down the stone path when the water on both sides began to bubble and boil. Erik notched an arrow while the Nord female readied a new fireball in anticipation of a new opponent. Four huge stone eagle heads raised out of the water to look down on the pathway. Jerien and Erik would have to walk under their gaze to get to the sarcophagus. They did so, crouched down and moving at a snail's pace, watchful for any slight movement or new trap. They passed unmolested down the walkway to the coffin.

The sarcophagus of Jurgin Windcaller was exquisite. You would have thought the man a giant by the size of it. It was long enough for two men and as so wide that Jerien wouldn't be able to touch both sides at once. It looked to be carved out of one giant piece of stone with four dragon heads at each corner. Runes were carved on the sides and lid of the coffin. The Nord female traced her hands along some of them, but none glowed or revealed any new shouts to her. Sprouting from the center of the lid was a gloved hand that looked to be holding something. Jerien climbed up and retrieved what she had hoped to be the horn she had been sent to find. Instead, it was a rolled up piece of parchment. Written in thick block letters was the message, 'Dragonborn, I need to speak to you. Urgently. Rent the attic room at the Sleeping Giant Inn in Riverwood and I'll meet you. - - A Friend.'

"Is that what we're here for? A letter?" Erik asked.

"No. I was supposed to find the Horn of Jurgin Windcaller but it's not here. Someone has it and wants to meet with me."

"Who? Another dragonborn?" he inquired.

"I don't know. The note just says 'a friend'". Jerien handed him the message to read for himself. "That could be anybody. It could be someone who can help me, or a trap, or a ransom demand … for the horn or, or for me…"

"For you? Why would someone…" Erik began to say but stopped as he put the pieces together in his head. "That's why the high elf at the bandit camp was tying you up, wasn't it? She was going to take you somewhere, or to someone." He stared at Jerien until she looked at him and nodded. "Who?"

"I don't know." She said.

"Why?" he asked.

"I don't know." She replied again.

"Where was she going to take you?"

"I Don't Know!" Jerien yelled. "I don't know Erik! I wish I knew, because not knowing is driving me crazy! All I know is that it has something to do with my mother but I haven't the faintest idea of what it might be. Mother was born here, but you'd never know it. She has rejected every ounce of Norse blood in her body! Something happened to her to make her abandon her roots and flee to Cyrodiil, but I have no idea what. She's never spoke of it and she has hidden those memories so deep in her mind that I've never been able to find them."

Erik looked at her, his brow furrowed. "How would you know any of your mothers' memories?"

Jerien sighed deeply as she massaged the back of her neck. She sat down on the stone pedestal and leaned back against the Greybeards coffin. She told an abbreviated version of the events that led to her receiving the dragon blood from Martin Septim. "What I didn't tell Master Arngir was that I was born with all of Mother's memories, well, almost all of them. I can close my eyes and see her rising through the ranks of the mages guild as if I were there. I can give you a firsthand account of the closing of dozens of Oblivion Gates and what it felt like when Martin finally defeated Mehrunes Dagon. I can remember speaking with the Gray Fox and learning the secret of his cowl, and even the day when Mother passed it on to another as she retired from the thieves guild. These memories have been in my head since the day I was born. I can recall them all at will, but…but I can't remember anything before she woke up in a stinking dungeon in the Imperial City. She has blocked out every memory, every thought, every feeling about Skyrim other than an intense hatred of it and everything that has to do with it. If I just had something to go on, anything. Even the smallest clue…a name, a place, a date…I could try and figure out why some High Elves are so interested in me."

"There were others? Not just the bandit?" Erik asked.

She nodded. "I made the mistake of telling a Thamor inquisitor my mother's family name. Apparently it's not a common surname here and he realized who my mother was. He was going to take me somewhere to meet someone, but I ran away before he had the chance. Whoever or wherever it is must not be somewhere I would want to go because both elves were going to take me there by force."

"And I killed one of them that would've been able to tell you. I'm sorry. I should've just tried to take her captive. I …" he began to say.

"No, don't … don't be sorry. You did the right thing. She would have killed you and taken me anyway. And who knows where I would be now. They might have been taking me to get beheaded, and I doubt another dragon will come along and save me for a second time…" She smiled at her inside joke.

Erik gave her another puzzled look. "I'll tell you about it some other time. Let's get out of here, I've had enough of dungeons and I need some fresh air."

Chapter 17:

It was dusk when they finally emerged from the tomb. Both of them held their breath until they were out of the reach of the smell of decomposition. As they followed the river back to Morthal, Jerien read the message on the parchment again. 'Who would have known I was on a quest for the horn?' she thought. Then she remembered. She boldly told everyone that was in Jarl Barlgruufs' great hall that day of her mission. But who would do this? Who would take the horn and leave a note requesting a secret meeting?

Hrongar? No. He would love to meet with her again, but this is something she figured would be beyond him to do. He's not one to hide behind any subterfuge, he would just come out and say it if he wanted something.

Farengar? He didn't seem that interested in her quest or even in her. And besides, what would a wizard want with the Horn of Jurgin Windcaller?

The Jarl? No. She hasn't known Jarl Barlgruuf that long, but he didn't seem like the kind of Nord that would play games with her.

Proventis? Maybe. But she couldn't see him getting his clothes dirty. He could have hired someone to delve into the tomb and do this for him though. But what would he do with the horn?

Whoever took the horn had to have the ability shout or they would have never been able to enter the actual tomb. The only other person she knows of that could do that other than the Greybeards is Ulfric Stormcloak. Was it him? How would he even know it was there? The more she thought about it, the more frustrated she got. Everywhere she turned, she hit a dead end. She only had one course of action: go back to Riverwood and meet with this person face to face.

Jerien bent down to collect a fungus that was growing near the shoreline of the river. Her thoughts were still a thousand miles away when she heard a faint distinctive roar. Her body trembled as her blood ran cold and then burned so hot that she thought her armor would melt off of her. "I hope you're ready for this Erik." She said as she stood and unslung her bow.

"Ready for wh…" he didn't even finish the sentence, let alone the thought. His jaw dropped as he saw a huge devil with wings swoop down from the mountains. It landed on the thatched roof of a house in the middle of the town and let loose a frozen spray. She could hear voices yelling and saw guards running towards and townsfolk scurrying away from the beast. She noted that this dragon was green in color and smaller than the others she had come across. Its size didn't take anything away from the amount of damage it could do though. It had already destroyed one building and was ripping apart the house it had landed on.

She didn't even look behind her to check on Erik as she ran at full speed towards the town. "Wuld!" came from her lungs as she sprinted away from her companion. She knew the guards would be at a disadvantage and the town would be vulnerable without her.

She slowed as she reached the edge of the settlement. The dragon had heard her shout and was already looking her way when she came out from behind a building and into its view. It sprayed a stream of frozen breath at Jerien as she looked up at it. She thanked the Nine for her fast reflexes as she dove to the left and was barely grazed by the ice. She jumped up and let two arrows loose as the beast flapped its wings to take off into the air. Neither arrow hit its target. One stuck in the skin of the dragons' right wing and the other was smacked away by the wind generated by the dragon lifting up and off the house. "Aim for its eyes and the underbelly!" She yelled at the guards.

The sun had already faded below the horizon and the moons were only half full, which made it very difficult to see anything in the sky. Jerien thought a moment and decided to make herself a target for the beast. She quickly formed a blue ball of light with her right hand before she changed her mind. She ran down the center of town, yelling as loud as she could, trying to get its attention. The guards she passed looked at her like she was insane, but she didn't care. She knew none of them were a match for the monster. She whirlwind sprinted past the inn and on until she crossed a bridge by an old lumber mill at the edge of town.

She was surprised that the orb matched her pace and stayed only a foot or two behind her. But what really surprised her was that her plan worked. The dragon landed behind her, between her and the town, kicking up dirt and snow as it touched down. Jerien could hear it fill its lungs and only had a moment to react. She dropped her bow, crouched down, and pulled her shield up just in time to block the breath of frost that the dragon aimed directly at her. Her shield wasn't long enough to cover anything below her knees as she crouched. She could feel the frost creep up her ankles so she cast a fire spell with her right hand and aimed at her feet. It created an odd sensation that radiated up her legs.

After an eternity, the ice spray stopped. Jerien didn't waste any time and threw a fireball at the dragon's face. The creature shook its head from side to side as it backed off, stunned by the unsuspected retaliation from its prey. The Nord picked her bow back up, knocked the icicles from the string, and fired two arrows at where she thought the beasts' heart was. One bounced off the thick hide, but the other embedded deep into a narrow opening between two scales. The dragon roared and began scratching at the wound with one of its huge claws.

Jerien took a deep breath while the creature was distracted. "FUUUUSS … RO!" The blow from her shout knocked the green beast backwards onto the mill. Several of the guards had caught up to them and began to fire volley after volley of arrows at it.

The dragon, now blinded in one eye, began to breathe frozen flames in every direction. One of the guards was hit full on as he was trying to run away and fell into the river. He bobbed up and down like a block of ice as he was swept downstream by the current. Another sentry was also hit and was frozen in mid-run like a statue.

Jerien continued to aim at the dragons' heart. She was out of poison tipped arrows and she could feel the electric current of her bow begin to wane, but she continued to fire.

The beast, unable to take flight now due to its left wing being full of holes and unable to see very well out of its remaining eye, began to snap at anything that moved. Most of the guards had found cover behind or under the bridge or behind the mill and were quick when they fired their arrows at the beast. One man had the misfortune of being within reach of the dragons jaws. It bit down hard on his torso and flung him out over the town. Jeriens' heart stopped as she looked around for Erik. She hoped and prayed to the Nine that it wasn't her friend the dragon had sent flying to his death. She happened to look up and was relieved to see him. Until she realized what he was doing.

The fool had climbed on top of the mill and was getting ready to leap onto the dragon. The Nord female looked on in astonishment as Erik removed his helm, took a running jump from the roof, and landed on the dragons' neck. He began to stab the beast with his sword of fire. The creature roared in pain as the white hot blade plunged into its flesh again and again and again. The dragon swung its head back and forth, attempting to rid itself of the biting creature on its back, but Erik somehow held fast.

Jerien took advantage of the situation and grabbed a steel greatsword that was lying on the ground. It had no majikal properties so she grabbed the blade with both hands and sent ribbons of fire up and down the metal until it glowed red. She held the hilt with both hands and ran straight towards the dragon's chest. She leapt and plunged the blade deep into the creature's flesh. It pierced the weakened scales and sunk deep into the chest cavity. She could hear the beast attempt to take a ragged breath and knew she had punctured a lung. Jerien continued to wrench the blade back and forth, trying to shred as much soft tissue as she could. A great clawed hand scraped her away and flung her to the ground. She rolled to a stop by the stone bridge and jumped up with a fire ball in one hand and healing her newly ripped bicep with the other. There was no need for the vigilance though.

The dragon had given up and was barely able to move as it leaned against the destroyed mill, shaking as it struggled to breathe. Jerien watched in amazement as Erik drove his blade once more, deep into the dragon's brain. It shuddered and moved no more. The bruised and battered Nord half slid, half rolled down the creature's side to the ground. Several of Morthal's guards ran over to help him up. He waived them off as he crawled away from the carcass.

Jerien looked at her friend and realized that maybe their relationship had been backwards. She had assumed that he was the one that needed looking after, someone who she could mentor and teach. She was the Dragonborn after all. Of course, she was the mightier warrior, right? Her thoughts were cut short as the dragon began to shimmer with the familiar golden glow. Its flesh peeled off and disintegrated before everyone's eyes as it began to shine with the soft radiance Jerien began to associate with Akatosh and her birthright. She walked towards the skeleton as the floating ball of fire drifted towards her. She breathed in the searing air into her lungs. The heat didn't seem to affect her like it did the first time. The flames surrounded her and lifted her just slightly off the ground. She wondered if her own soul was getting heavier with each dragon soul she absorbed or if this was just a minor or younger dragon and didn't have the same essence as its brother. She turned back towards the guards as the warmth died away.

"You, you took its very soul!" A guard said. It was the same sentry that she had spoken with earlier in the day. "I never would have believed it if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes. You're Dragonborn! You're here to save us!" The other guards looked at her with wide eyes and gaping mouths.

"Yes, I am Dragonborn, and I took its soul," she said nodding her head. "But the real hero of the day is right there. Erik from Rorikstead…Erik the Dragon Slayer."

The guards back away and gave her a wide berth as she walked over to Erik and began to heal his wounds. He had a gash on his head that had turned the left side of his face and neck bright red and sticky. "That was pretty foolish to remove your helmet. It could've taken your head off. You might not be so lucky next time."

"Yeah, but I couldn't see very well with it on so I chose sight over protection." He smiled wide and said, "Did you see me?"

She laughed at his statement. "Oh that was you on top of the dragon? I hadn't noticed. I was too busy stabbing it in the chest. By the way, how's yours? You seem to be breathing a little rough."

"I think I might have a broken rib or two. It got a couple lucky blows in." Erik said as he shifted in his armor. "This cuirass wasn't made to take a direct hit from a dragon horn. I might need to invest something better, steel or glass maybe"

"I saw a blacksmiths forge as I was running through town. I'm pretty sure he would give you a good deal on something made to your specifics, you know, since you helped save the town and all. Make sure you invest in a good helm too. I know you have a hard, thick skull, but the flesh covering it isn't as tough." She said as she reached down and helped Erik back to his feet. He grunted as he stood. Jeriens' hand began to glow as she reached towards his chest, but he waived her away.

"I'll be ok. I just need a couple healing potions." He nodded towards a young Nord woman that was walking towards them. She was very petite and fair, her strawberry blonde hair hanging over her shoulder in a loose braid. She wore simple and well-worn clothing but it did nothing to hide her modest beauty. She held a potion bottle in each hand as she walked up to Erik.

"My grandmother bade me to bring these to you Dragon Slayer. She said you would be needing them." She blushed when she handed him the bottles and their hands touched.

"Thank you. These are greatly appreciated." He stared after her as she walked away. She took a quick look over her shoulder and smiled before continuing on her way. "Are we going to stay and recuperate for a while?" he asked Jerien. "I mean, we should stay and make sure the town will be ok, right?"

The Nord woman smiled and chuckled to herself. "Yes, I think you've earned a rest. And if the inn is still in one piece, I'll buy you an ale."

Erik drank the healing potions as they walked back over the bridge towards town. They passed several townsfolk crossing the bridge that were on their way to gawk at the monstrous skeleton that was lying on the remains of their lumber mill. An official looking guard came up to them as they were heading up the steps to the Moorside Inn. "Jarl Idgrod Ravencrone bids you welcome to our town and requests an audience with you. I have been sent to escort you to Highmoon Hall. Follow me please."

Erik and Jerien exchanged looks and shrugged their shoulders as they followed the guard as he led them back through the town. Morthal seemed to have survived the attack with most of the buildings still standing. Jerien saw a couple women light some outdoor sconces and start sweeping the dirt and snow off of their front walkways as if it were just an everyday thing and that a dragon didn't just almost destroy their town and people. The resilience of Skyrim's people impressed her.

The guard led them up to a building in the center of town that had huge thick banners with a curved, three pronged crest on them. The sentries on either side of two large doors stood aside and opened them for the trio.

It was dark inside the longhouse and the air was perfumed with a thick woodsy scent. A long open fire pit led to a small raised platform. Upon it sat a woman rubbing her temples as she stared at the fire. She was finely dressed in dark leathers inlaid with gold embroidery. Her brow was furrowed as if she were looking intently at something and she seemed to have an air of wisdom that hung around her. Her salt and pepper hair was in one long braid that trailed down past her knees.

She seemed to be in her own world and didn't notice when Jerien and Erik walked up to her. She didn't seem at all concerned that two strangers had come into the room and were mere yards from her, but the large muscular Nord to her left was. He wore similar dark leather armor and slung across his back was a huge battle axe. Jerien was positive that her hands would not have been able to touch should she try and hug the giant brute. He stepped forward and uncrossed his arms as the pair got closer to his liege. His eyes seemed to be following every move they made as well as any and all movement in the longhouse.

Jerien sized him up quickly and decided that he was not one to be trifled with so she stepped a pace back until the body guard gave her a slight nod and re-crossed is arms.

"So you are the ones that aided my men in slaying the dragon." The woman's dark eyes lingered on Jerien before they slowly moved to Erik. She inhaled deeply and sluggishly blinked her eyes. "Life has brought you to Morthal and to me. What purpose this serves, we will no doubt see. Welcome."

"Thank you, Jarl Ravencrone. I'm glad we were here and able to help." Jerien said to her as she bowed her head.

The Jarl's gaze went back to the Nord woman and she slowly closed her eyes. "The divines sometimes reveal things to me. It is a gift, though not everyone understands this." She opened her eyes and stared directly into Jeriens. "They see you. They see what might happen and what will happen. They say the choice is yours to make." She laid back in the chair and drowsily closed her eyes again.

Jerien and Erik stood awkwardly and looked at each other. She looked at the Jarls' body guard and he only stared back, giving no indication on what they should do. A slender brown haired Nord walked up to them and motioned for them to follow him. He led them away from the apparently sleeping Jarl back towards the main doors.

"You'll have to excuse Jarl Idgrod. Her visions take a lot out of her and she tires quickly. It bothers some of her subjects when this happens, but there's no reason to be alarmed. I am Aslfur, the Jarls steward. If you have any other business with the Jarl, I ask that you speak with me first."

"We will. Thank you." Jerien said. She and Erik turned to leave when Aslfur stopped them.

"You have done Morthal a great service Dragonborn. Please, take this as a thank you. And know that you and your companion are always welcome here." He handed the Nord woman a bag of coins and walked back over to where Jarl Idgrod was dozing in her throne. He gently woke her and guided her to a bed room off to their left. Jerien wondered how much of the rule of this hold was done by the Jarl and how much was taken care of by her steward. She bounced the bag of septims in her hand and decided if they were able to hand out coin like this, it didn't matter.

"Come along companion, let's get that ale." Jerien said as they exited the longhouse and began to walk back to the inn. She handed the bag of coins to Erik. He gave her a confused and surprised look as he took it. "You've earned it." She said as he put her arm around his shoulder. "You're also buying all my drinks tonight too."

Chapter 18:

Morning came early the next day. Too early. Jerien had to force her eyes to open and then quickly shut them due to it causing a headache to instantly tear across her skull. She tried to pull the covers over her head but they were stuck under a heavy figure lying in the bed next to her. She tugged harder and the figure grunted. After a few minutes more of fighting with the fabric, she was able to free enough to cover her nakedness. The figure rolled over and smiled at her. It was the Jarls giant bodyguard.

"Mmmm … Good morning Dragonborn." He was smiling from ear to ear.

"Morning … uh…." Jerien realized she couldn't remember his name. She also couldn't remember even meeting him last night. Or actually, anything about last night after her fifth ale.

"Gorm." He said. "Even though you kept calling me Grom." His laugh was deep and low like thunder, and Jerien remembered why she invited him into her room last night.

"Oh, I'm sorry Gorm. I … uh, I might have … drank a little, a little too much last night." A red face Jerien said.

He laughed again, "It's ok. You can call me whatever you'd like Dragonborn." He reached over and caressed her cheek with his huge hand. "And you can call on me whenever you'd like also. I know you have an important quest to finish for the Greybeards, but, once that's completed … I hope that you will visit Morthal, and me, again." Gorm rose out of the bed and began to put on his dark leather armor. Jerien realized that her first impression of him was correct. Even naked, she wouldn't have been able to wrap her arms around him. He turned and caught her watching him dress and her blush deepened. She pulled the sheet over her head. "Bashful now are we?" He asked. He laughed again as he opened the door and left.