In the end, it didn't matter what ideas I had. My body needed rest, and I was in so position to argue with it.

I stayed slumped against the tree, watching the clouds move and seeing the smoke stain the sky. The dragon might have been gone but the fires were obviously still raging. I had only seen the town briefly, but I could imagine the wooden walls wouldn't put up much resistance. I didn't know how to feel about it. I didn't want innocent people to die, but I had been freed from arrest. I was still alive. I had made it, and I didn't know the fate of the people who would have been happy for me to lose my head.

I pulled my knees to my chest, barely noticing the wound oozing at my hip. I was alone and I needed comfort and all I had were snow and rocks and trees.

Eventually, with the sun hanging low in the sky, I nodded off.

I found myself dreaming of muddled images. The dragon featured strongly, with guttural voices speaking in languages I didn't understand. I saw flashes of the ground exploding outward, with dark shadows pushing their way free. I heard screams and the roar of flames. I heard chanting, voices calling me without speaking my name.

And I felt so much crushing fear that it choked me.

"It can be overwhelming, can't it?"

The dragons and the flames and the fear vanished, replaced by a calming feeling similar to a cool hand on my forehead.

I was in that same stone room from my dreams, with the inscriptions on the wall. The same voice was speaking to me, invisible and undeterminable.

"Overwhelming is an understatement," I wrapped my arms around myself. Even in my dream, even with this presence trying to help me, I still felt unsteady. Unsure. "Was that my fate, to come here and almost die?"

A chuckle that sounded like windchimes came from all around me.

"No, Ma'hlia. Your fate goes beyond the events that transpired today. There are bigger plans in store for you. You are part of an expanding history."

I wandered round the walls, re-examining the motifs and trying to find an answer. Something in my gut told me they weren't linear, that they were ever changing, and I would only ever be shown what the voice wanted me to see. I searched for a sign of black scales and burning eyes and smoldering ruins.

"You are more curious than afraid," the voice sounded almost proud and I nodded. "The Gods knew what they were doing when they chose your soul."

"The Gods?" I stopped my searching, staring up at the ceiling instead. "The Gods sent me here and let me survive, while all those people died."

There was a long silence and I wondered if I had said the wrong thing. I didn't know what was the correct protocol when the Gods suddenly were sitting having a conversation with you. I was used to one sided prayers for a good harvest, for my family's good health, for a good season. I was never one to have a crisis of faith when there was no answer. That was my relationship with the Gods, I knew they were too busy to answer every call.

Except now they weren't.

"We cannot save everyone," the voice finally broke the silence. "If we were to intervene and save every soul, you would lose all free will. Be nothing but empty husks, puppets for any God to play with. Is this what you would prefer?"

I had a flash of that horrifying reality, then stared back at my feet, thoroughly chastised.

"Ma'hlia, you are woven into this by the strings of fate and they are not so easily cut. It is no easy burden to carry, but carry it you must. There is no more turning back for you."
I knew it to be true, even if I didn't want to admit it. It was like every fibre of my being was crying out in agreement. Maybe those were those pesky little fate strings.
I lifted my eyes, and there level with my head was now a stone replica of the dragon. The nightmare on wings, eyes glowing red as if it could truly see me even in my dreams. Would the Gods be enough to protect me from that?

"It will get easier, Ma'hlia," the voice sounded softer, as if it could read my thoughts. If the voice did belong to one of the Gods, it probably could. "You were chosen for a reason. You will not let us down."

Then I was blinking up at the break of dawn before I could ask any more questions.

Whatever the Gods had planned for me, they hadn't included healing or fixing anything for me while I slept. The tips of my fingers were numb from the cold and my clothes were soaked with snow where they weren't crusty with dried blood. My cloak had protected me from the worst of the elements, but I was still unable to stop shivering.

I forced myself to my feet, clinging to trees and rocks as I staggered forward. Swaying in place, I took stock of my injuries.

Yesterday's healing spells meant that the kicks to my side and my head only really felt like an echo of pain, but my joints were stiff and reluctant to let me move. Only the worst of my blisters remained at my wrists, angry and red but thankfully not burst or oozing. I wasn't brave enough or nimble enough to peel back the fabric of my skirt to check the wound at my hip or my thigh, but I could tell that it had at least stopped bleeding and now just throbbed with every step that I took.

A handful of ice cold water from a nearby stream was enough to parch my dry throat, but I knew I needed more than that. I was lost without my map, my food, my journal, even my spare non-bloodstained clothes. I could have been minutes or miles from the next town and even if it was close, who was to say it wouldn't be under attack too?

I was going to have to try and make it back to the burning ruins I came from.

The thought made my stomach churn, but I knew it was necessary. Not only to try and find or replace my supplies, but what if there were still survivors? I knew almost a full day must have passed since I woke up on that cart, but if I had survived maybe others had too.

I slowly made my way, snapping a sturdy branch off a nearby tree and using that to lean on as I shuffled forward. I wasn't sure whether pain or fear slowed me down more. The sun was higher in the sky by the time I made it back to the ruins of the outer wall. I looked around for another easier way in but mountains encased both sides of the walls and I sighed. Without the adrenaline to fuel me, this was going to be a lot harder to climb.

Eventually I made it over, coated in sweat and panting heavily.

Brushing dirt off my skirt, I glanced around the courtyard I'd landed in. The stone buildings next to me seemed to be still standing, and most of the fires were out. Just the faint flicker of embers and the occasional wisps of smoke were left. No bodies directly in my line of sight, which was promising. I picked my way through the broken stone, afraid to call out and break the silence.

I passed through a crumbled archway and there the real destruction was waiting for me.

Those wooden houses hadn't fared well. Roofs were collapsed in, walls shattered and littering the paths, scraps of fabric caught on splinters and fluttering in the breeze. Everything smelled like burning and I swallowed hard.

The first house was nothing but kindling, but the second still had occupants.

Curled up, barely human, features unrecognisable. But the smell of charred flesh unmistakable. I made it to the front door before I threw up, sobbing hoarsely.

After I wiped my mouth, I forced myself to keep going. I had survived, I had no right to fall apart here. I sent a silent apology to the strangers who had once called this place home and then kept walking.

The rest of the town was more of the same. Houses and their owners destroyed by fire. Almost nothing was salvageable, and anything that was felt wrong to take. How could I collect a bottle of mead when just the previous day someone had expected to drink it and relax by the hearth? Even the few chairs left standing in the Inn felt haunted and I didn't dare sit to rest.

Eventually I found myself standing by the block where I had knelt, sure I would die. The bloodstains were still there, almost black and blending in with the singed wood. Part of me felt the urge to destroy it, but I turned my back on it instead, investigating the tower that was still standing.

Part of the upper wall had been caved in but somehow the bottom floor seemed almost untouched and I stared in disbelief at the pile by the wall. My belongings lay there, unscathed, amongst unfamiliar swords and cloaks.

The soldiers who had seized us had obviously stashed our belongings here. Confiscated for them to pick through once they'd seperated our heads from our bodies. I couldn't even be angry at the thought, I was just so relieved to see my belongings.

Sitting on the floor, I went through my pack, pulling out fresh clothes, elixirs for my wounds and my water canteen that was blessedly full.

I spent the rest of the afternoon amongst the ghosts, cleaning my wounds and nibbling on nuts and slightly brown apples. The wound from the soldier in the forest was definitely going to scar, a hard, puckered line from my hip almost halfway to my knee. It had at least missed the ceremonial tattoos on the sides of my thigh and I thanked the Gods for small mercies. The elixir couldn't heal it completely, but the skin was starting to knit together and I knew it wouldn't split when I walked now and I'd narrowly missed infection.

Once I'd run out of water and felt like my I had my strength back, I knew I had to leave. There were no survivors here for me to help and my fate wasn't to stay lurking among the dead.

I left my torn, bloodstained clothes on the floor next to the seized weapons and other bags. It felt wrong to touch them, leave them for the next people who felt brave enough to face the corpses judgement.

Judging from the sun, it was still a few hours until complete darkness. Time enough for me to figure out where I would go next.

I left through a tall set of gates that were somehow still standing. It wasn't the same path that we'd come from, but looked like the road would be promising. I could see some kind of buildings in the mountains ahead and that felt like a good sign.

It was a quicker pace now I had a real road to follow and I'd gotten a chance to address my wounds. It wasn't the same as my previous travels - I still felt too on edge to stop and admire the scenery, but I did find time to harvest some berries to try and bulk my supplies back up. If I didn't find a town or some other travellers to trade with, I'd need to hunt soon. And my dagger was lost somewhere on the forest floor where I'd been attacked.

The sky turned a warm, rosy colour as I walked and I couldn't help but admire it. A river was winding through the trees ahead and for a moment it felt like I'd stepped into the dreams I'd had, months ago, long before I packed my bags. The visions that had followed me were now all around me, in reality.

Eventually, as I made my way away from the mountains, I saw roofs between the rocks. Another town, this one unburned and unbroken.

Relief mingled with anxiety in the pit of my stomach. Civilization could mean safety and rest or it could mean more soldiers. I wasn't sure if I could face another fight.

I made my way down to the riverside first, deciding to refill my canteen and keep an eye on the town gates. It wasn't completely walled in like the previous town, but I could see the platforms where guards would be stationed.

I sat on a rocky outcropping until the day gave way to twilight, sipping from my canteen and keeping an eye on the buildings ahead.

As the darkness crept in, torches were lit. I hadn't seen many people wandering around, but I spotted the guards as I assumed they changed shifts. Steel helmets and yellow capes. No red dragons sigils. I let out a shaky sigh of relief, and picked my way along the river towards the buildings.

I wasn't sure if I was ready to talk to the guards and explain where I'd come from, even if they weren't the same kind who'd arrested me. I tensed up as I passed through the gates but no outcry came and I let out a silent sigh of relief.

On the other side, I blinked and looked around. There was nobody on the street except a guard posted further up. It was dark, but it wasn't that late. Back home people would have still been out on the porch, chatting with their neighbours and watching the torchbugs light up the night.

A glance to my left, a little island outcropping with a mill, and I spotted someone doing exactly that. Sitting on a flat rock, staring at the water with bottles by his side. As he took a long swallow, the light caught his face and his features came into focus.

The blonde from the execution.

I stood and watched him drink for a few moments before he looked up and we made eye contact. He lowered his bottle.

"Hey, you're that cat."

I grimaced. Cat. Honestly, was this country so uncivilised that they didn't have a word for my people? It wasn't like I walked around calling them talking flesh sacks.
I didn't say anything though. The night was quiet and still and the memories of executions and dragons were still fresh. I wasn't sure I wanted a living, breathing reminder of how close I had been to death.

Yet when he waved me over my feet made a path across the pier and suddenly I was sitting next to him as he passed me a bottle of Ale.

"It's not the best tasting, but it helps. With trying to sleep, I mean," he said gruffly, not meeting my eye. "And forgetting."

I regarded his profile and then took a long swig.

We sat in silence for a while, passing the bottle back and forth until it was empty and then we just looked at the river flowing past.

"Did many others make it out with you?"

I hadn't expected to say anything, the question seemed to leap from my lips without my brain approving it and I cringed at the silence that followed my querie.

"A few," he said eventually. "Soldiers, mainly. But not many, and we scattered fairly quick. Ulfric made us split up, harder for those Imperial bastards to have us in chains again. And of course Tullius was well protected."

I squinted at him, lost again with what he was talking about. He caught the look on my face and chuckled.

"Sorry, I forgot they caught you crossing the border. You really have no idea who Ulfric is."

"Those soldiers, the ones in red... They mentioned his name, thought I was a spy," I said slowly, remembering what they discussed after attacking me. "I only just arrived, I've never been here before. I don't know anyone, except those soldiers and we didn't exactly stop to exchange names. Mine is Ma'hlia, by the way."

"Aye, not exactly the best welcome party for you," he chuckled again. "Well Ma'hlia, I'm Ralof. Those soldiers in red, they're the Imperial army. They call us rebels for following Ulfric Stormcloak, but he's the true High King of our country. He wants what's best for his people."

I nodded, not truly invested. I could tell he was passionate about what he was talking about and I let him ramble on about this Ulfric person for a while I focused on watching the water. Eventually Ralof seemed to run out of steam and he let out a sigh.

"Anyway, enough politics for tonight," he gave me a tired smile. "There'll be plenty of time for that. I'm sure they'll eventually realise some of their prisoners survived and want us back. I'm hoping to be back in Windhelm by then."

We chatted for a while longer and I pulled out my map, finding the city he'd mentioned up North. He told me of the bitter cold up there but insisted it was worth visiting. He also marked where we currently as well, telling me this was Riverwood and we'd come from what had once been Helgen.

Knowing where I was and where I could go made me feel a little less anxious about following the roads.

When he noticed me yawning, Ralof stood with a low groan. I imagined he was probably bruised and burned under his tunic too, but he still helped me to my feet. His hands were callused but warm in mine and I remembered how much I'd wanted to grip his hand when we faced the block. Now, he dropped it and clapped me on the back.

"Let me take you to the Inn. You'll get a warm meal and a comfortable bed there. You look like you need it."

We walked in silence there and then at the door, Ralof grasped my hand again and gave it a brief squeeze.

"I'd come in with you, but I'm trying to keep a low profile. Hoping nobody here recognises me and reports me to those Imperial dogs. I'm staying with my sister tonight and leaving at dawn before anyone can see me," he dropped my hand and I forced a tight smile. "Good luck on your travels Ma'hlia."

I didn't stay to watch him walk away, forcing myself inside to warmth and comfort.

There was still a fire crackling and a lone patron sitting drinking at a table in the corner. I immediately felt the tension leaving my shouders.

I could tell the Innkeeper who sold me my room for the night wasn't used to seeing Khajiit but at least he didn't ask any questions or even make any awkward small talk. I guessed in his line of work he could tell when people were too tired to talk.

He left me to my bed with a quiet goodnight and closed the door behind him. I stripped off, leaving my clothes in a puddle on the floor and burrowed into the furs and pillows. The last few days events caught up with me and I fell into a dreamless sleep almost instantly.

When I woke back up, I was once again staring down the blade of a sword.