Chapter 3: Road to Execution
The first thing he felt as he regained consciousness was the ache he felt in his head. Despite being awake he tiredly refused to open his eyes, and listened to the sounds around him while his mind filled in the gaps. He heard horse trotting and the sound of a cart's moving wheels. He then realised he could feel himself moving. 'Why am I here? Where are we going?' He wondered. 'What about Master?' His eyes snapped open suddenly. "Where is she?" He asked frenzied.
"Hey you! Quiet back there!" Someone shouted. Arliss turned to see that the voice belonged to a man in what looked like red leather armour sitting at the front. He recalled the earlier battle; understanding dawned on him. The newfound clarity was a boon, but he knew he was in a bad situation.
"You should calm down." Came the voice of another man. Arliss looked across to see an unconscious man leaning sideways towards the front. He wore rags, and had long, dark, disheveled hair which masked his face, and shrouded him in mystery. Next to this man was the one who spoke. He wore the same blue armor as the ones they tried to help earlier. He was tall, and hardy looking, with long fair hair, and bright blue eyes. "She's right next to you. That's her right?" The man motioned his head towards her as he spoke. Arliss turned to see he was right, the Arisen was resting unharmed on his shoulder. He breathed out a sigh of relief, that's when he heard low laughter from the man. "You must've been really out of it not to notice." He wore a smile but his eyes were solemn and downcast. "I get it though," He continued. "We're not exactly in a good situation."
Arliss mentally agreed with what he said but outwardly payed it no heed. "Thank you," he simply said to the man before attempting to wake the Arisen. He found it was quite the difficult task to wake someone with bound hands. "Master." He tried calling a few times to no avail. "Master." He called once more before being interrupted.
"Why do you call her Master?" The man asked curiously. "That's kinda strange. I've never heard anyone call someone that, not even Jarls." He said bluntly.
Arliss was taken aback. 'Wasn't he able to tell that we're a pair consisting of an Arisen and their Main Pawn?' He wondered confused before remembering where they were. 'There must not be Arisen in this world.' With this revelation he wasn't sure how to go about answering his question. 'Aught would she have me say?' He asked himself. Not knowing how to answer he instead opted to distract him by asking a question of his own. "Afore, when I asked of her whereabouts how knew you I was referring to her and not another?" He asked as casually and human-like as he could hoping it wasn't obvious he was trying to change the subject.
"You both stick out like a sore thumb." The man said bluntly, his face giving no indication of whether or not he was aware of the true nature of the question. Arliss wondered if his distraction was actually working. "Your clothes are foreign and different." The man continued speaking and Arliss took this as a sign that his distraction worked. "Anyway, it's not polite to change the subject when asked a question." Feeling like he had somehow failed the Arisen, Arliss cursed his inexperience at these kinds of things.
Pawns were often looked down upon by humans for being without wills and being emotionless. Humans would only associate with pawns when it was necessary, or if they wanted to take advantage of them in some way. As such; pawns were left with few chances to learn to interact, and get along with humans. 'It seems the experience I gained from the few humans who were willing to speak with me, and what I learned from the more knowledgeable pawns like Barnaby wasn't enough.' Arliss thought as he let his face go flat into a more pawn-like expression. 'Very well since I can't do this as a human, I'll do it as a pawn.' Pawns may be without wills and even allow themselves to be treated as dirt, however when it comes to a task especially for the sake of the Arisen they can become much more steadfast and determined than any human. Arliss had decided that it would be best not to say anything that may give them away without her consent, so he would have to not answer his question. In a clear, unwavering voice Arliss spoke. "Forgive me. I'll not say aught against my Master's will."
"Mmn?" A familiar voice pulled Arliss' attention away from the conversation. The Arisen stirred in her sleep and he called to her again. "Arliss," She said as she opened her eyes. "Arliss, what?" She mumbled not entirely awake.
"So your name's Arliss?" The same man asked. "I'm Ralof" He said friendily. The man called Ralof looked at the woman seated in front of him. "How about -" He began to ask before being interrupted by another man next to him.
"Will you be Quiet?!" The man yelled, waking up the still unconscious man and getting everyone's attention.
"Shut up back there!" The soldier at the reigns shouted at them, then turned back to the front.
The man noticing the attention he had garnered quickly averted his gaze downward. Ralof ignored him and turned his attention on the other man who had just awakened.
"Hey you, you're finally awake." He said to the now conscious man. "You were trying to cross the border right?" He asked.
"Yeah, I had just crossed over from Cyrodil not long before running into that Imperial ambush." The man answered.
"Just the same as us," Ralof said. "The Imperial ambush part anyway. Skyrim has always been my home." He continued. "Of course I can't speak for everyone here." Turning towards Arliss and the Arisen he then asked. "You're foreigners too right?"
"Yes, we're foreigners." Said the Arisen. She noticed that the others were looking at her and Arliss curiously, especially the man from Cyrodil, and a gagged man beside her who seemed to be observing them with great scrutiny. 'Are we really so out of place to stand out this much?' She wondered a bit nervously.
"I've been wondering, where are you from?" Ralof asked.
"Tis' a very far away place." She said. "I doubt you've heard of it." 'Because it doesn't exist in this world.' She thought to herself. She noticed that Ralof seemed disappointed that she didn't answer his question, then she noticed the man from Cyrodil was staring at her with an odd expression on his face. Twas a mixture of distrust and a knowing look which made her uneasy.
"What is it?" Arliss harshly asked the man when he noticed he was staring at the Arisen. The man was a bit surprised that he suddenly spoke to him in such a way. The Arisen was also taken aback by the cold tone of voice Arliss used. "Do you need something?" He continued coldly.
"Hey now, you might want to calm down." Ralof intervened. "What's with that tone?" He asked. "You're almost as bad as that thief over there." He said gesturing to the man next to him.
"Damn you Stormcloaks!" The thief yelled at Ralof, angry at the slight. "Skyrim was fine until you came along!" He continued. "Empire was nice and lazy. If they hadn't been looking for you I'd have stolen that horse and been halfway to Hammerfell." He looked past Ralof at the man from Cyrodil then glanced at the other two foreigners. "Not all of us are rebel scum!" Ralof's eyes narrowed into a cold, hard glare. "We shouldn't be here. It's you stormcloaks the Empire wants." He said directing his frustration at Ralof.
It was quiet a moment before Ralof spoke. "And what about you huh?" His voice was low but it held a hint of anger. "I may be a rebel, but you're just a damn thief." He practically spat the words at him; the horse thief recoiled away in response, and unnoticed by the others the man from Cyrodil flinched upon hearing his words. Ralof sighed. "It doesn't matter." He said defeated. "We're all brothers and sisters in binds now." He looked down solemnly at his hands which had rope tightly cutting into his flesh.
They all sat quietly, not uttering a word. The only sounds heard were the slow trotting of the horse and the wheels of the cart moving along the road to their destination. The silence brought out the gloom of the situation they were in, however it also allowed the Arisen time to take everything in.
She understood that the they had gotten themselves involved in a civil war by siding with the rebels also known as Stormcloaks against the Empire, and that they were now at the Empire's mercy. She also knew that the land they were in was called Skyrim, and that there was another nation by the border called Cyrodil. She recalled how the thief mentioned a place called Hammerfell. 'It must be another nation in this world.' She thought. 'Of course, it could also be a village or city.' She wondered what kinds of places skyrim held and how it would be important to learn their way around. 'We'll have to acquire a map when we escape.' Coming out of her thoughts the gloomy atmosphere reminded her of the situation they were in. 'If we escape.' She corrected herself with a sigh.
The silence was interrupted by the horse thief "What's wrong with him?" He asked Ralof while looking ahead at the man next to her who was gagged as well as bound. "Why is he gagged?" She, Arliss, and the Cyrodil man looked curiously at him.
'I've been wondering about that as well.' She thought as she observed the man next to her. 'Mayhaps, he's said aught the guards did not take kindly to?'
Ralof answered the question they were all wondering. "Watch your tongue! That man is Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King." Ralof's tone and the words he spoke carried such a weight that they were able to understand the situation upon hearing them.
'True High King?' Thought the Arisen. 'He must be important to the Rebellion.' Then realization struck. 'He's been captured with us so the place we're being taken to-'
"Ulfric? The Jarl of Windhelm?" The horse thief asked. "You're the leader of the Rebellion." He paused. "If they captured you-" He spoke slowly yet tensely as his mind pieced together the new information with the situation, then it dawned on him. "Oh Gods!" His voice was shrill as panic set in. "Where are they taking us?" He asked, his voice quivering and his body shaking.
Ralof answered. "I don't know where we're going, but Sovngarde awaits." He said slowly with a stoic expression. His voice was low and held sadness, however there was a hint something else as well.
"Sovngarde?" Arliss asked, not following.
The man from Cyrodil answered. "Sovngarde is the afterlife for us Nords, especially warriors." He said calmly. "When you think about it, getting executed isn't a bad price to pay to spend the rest of eternity in Shor's grand hall."
"No, you're mad!" The horse thief yelled. "That may be fine for you, but I'm not ready to die yet." He said terrified. He lowered his head and tried to calm himself. "This can't be happening. This isn't happening." His voice trembled as he invoked the names of his divines for help.
Arliss looked at the Arisen. She had a serious look on her face which couldn't be read. 'Not again.' Arliss thought. 'I won't let you die again.' He steeled his resolve, looking ahead with determination glinting in his eyes. "I'll not allow it to happen." He said in a low tone to himself quietly. The Arisen heard him speak and glanced at him curiously but said nothing.
The man from Cyrodil also noticed and said to him, "I suppose a Breton like yourself wouldn't understand."
"I'm not a Breton." Arliss said simply. "I'm a-" He stopped himself before he could finish the sentence. He mentally berated himself realizing what he said. 'T'would have been better if I had said naught.' He glanced at the Arisen and saw that she was looking at him worriedly. Arliss avoided her gaze and looked at the man instead.
The man smirked as if he knew something more than what was just said, then he spoke. "Really? You're sure you're not a Breton?" He asked while feigning ignorance. "You look kinda like a Breton, and seem the magic sort, so I figured you were." He continued. "If you're not a Breton, what are you?" He stared at Arliss and glanced at the Arisen curiously. They felt as if his gaze was looking through them. Finally he looked away towards the front at the road ahead. "Since we're all going to die anyway it doesn't matter." He said with a sigh. He watched the road ahead steadily, his eyes betrayed him with the sadness they held. "So, what about you? Where will you go when -" He paused. "Well you know."
Arliss turned to the Arisen, his eyes silently asking for guidance. Seeing his expression she thought a moment before she leaned in and whispered. "You can say aught of the Rift, but tell naught of Pawns, Arisen, our arrival, or aught from afore then."
He gave her a firm look afore answering the man. "My kind go to the Rift when we are killed." He was careful to avoid saying 'pawns' and 'return to the rift'.
"The Rift huh?" The man's lips lifted into the slightest smile a moment afore returning to it's somber state. "What's it like?"
Arliss recalled the Rift as he thought about how he should answer. "The Rift is exactly how it sounds." He said simply. The man furrowed his brow; his eyes flickered from the road to the mage. "In the Rift there is naught but the Rift itself and the others in it." He explained. 'We pawns also don't tend to speak to each other within the Rift either.' He thought but kept hidden as he continued describing it. "The Rift is dark, but to an extent you can see, although if you look ahead you can't see aught. When you're in the Rift you also feel naught."
The man from Cyrodil was confused. 'This guy talks weird.' He thought. 'What's aught, and naught, and why does he keep saying them?' He wondered. 'Must be how they speak at wherever they come from.' He concluded. There was also something else that was bothering him about the mage talking to him. 'The way he talks about the Rift in such detail with that face make it seem like he's speaking from experience, as if he's been there.' He felt a bit weirded out by this thought. "That doesn't sound like a good afterlife." He said to Arliss. "Do you get reincarnated after or what?"
"Reincarnated?" Arliss asked.
"Born into the world again." The man explained. "Some races believe it." He said with a shrug.
Arliss thought about it a bit. 'Pawns can't truly die, we simply return to the Rift until an Arisen calls us into the world with a Rift-stone.' He thought. 'Of course I can't say that.' After carefully considering his words he spoke up. "Yes, something like that." Luckily the man accepted the answer and didn't ask anything else.
The horse thief was still repeating the same words over and over in attempt to calm himself, but to no avail. Finally Ralof decided to say something to stop him. "Hey, what village are you from horse thief?" He asked.
Slowly the thief stopped, he paused a moment before he turned to Ralof. "Why do you care?" He asked coldly.
Ralof looked at him sadly. "A Nord's last thoughts should be of home." He spoke slowly, his low voice cutting through the cold and setting down heavily as a dead weight in their hearts.
The thief stared at him in shock and terror. "Rorikstead." He spoke so quietly Ralof had to strain his ears to hear. "I'm from Rorikstead." He raised his shaky voice, then his gaze drifted downward as his thoughts filled with home.
He watched the road ahead vigilantly, his gaze was unceasing. After a short while he spoke up. "Looks like the end of the line." The words of the Cyrodil man got their attention and they all turned to the front. The first thing they saw were grey stone walls surrounding a seemingly large settlement. The city appeared to be somewhat fortified and suited for military use. The gate was open, but it did not make the thick, towering walls of stone surrounding it any less imposing.
"It's Helgen." Said Ralof as he recognized the place. "I used to be sweet on a girl from here." As he reminisced a small bittersweet smile formed on his face. "I wonder if Velod is still making that mead with juniper berries mixed in." He looked at the fortified wall. "It's funny, when I was a boy Imperial walls and towers used to make me feel safe." As the cart approached the gate Ralof's eyes caught sight of something which caused him to scowl. "Look at him!" The others turned to look at the man he was glaring daggers at. "General Tullius of the Imperial Legion." He growled. "And it looks like the Thalmor are with him. Damn elves, I bet they had something to do with this."
'Elves?' The Arisen curiously pulled her attention from the General and observed the people called Thalmor. They were different from anyone she's seen before. They had a golden tint to their skin which made them appear almost as if they were glowing, as well as a unique facial structure with high prominent cheekbones, and long pointy ears the like she's only seen on a few pawns in the Rift. The Arisen was fascinated with this Thalmor race. 'I wonder what else exists in this world.'
The Imperial at the reigns suddenly pulled the horse to a stop. A female captain approached the cart issuing out orders to an Imperial soldier who had been speaking to the General.
"Why are we stopping?" The thief asked fearfully.
The man from Cyrodil rolled his eyes. "They plan on giving us Mead and Sweet-rolls." He said sarcastically before asking in a harsh voice. "What do you think?"
"This is it," Ralof muttered; his breathy voice almost went unheard. "Let's go, we shouldn't keep the Gods waiting for us."
The thief panicked. "No! Please wait! We're not Rebels!" He cried. "I fully support the Imperial Legion!" He loudly proclaimed. "I would never side with Rebel Scum! Death to the Stormcloaks!"
His words only brought him glares from the other captives around him. The man from Cyrodil was disgusted to be kinsman with such a coward and felt that he was a disgrace to the Nord race. The thief's cowardly mein reminded the Arisen of a certain person who once made a false accusation against her to avoid punishment after having been saved by her, as well as another coward who did the same for another reason. The worst glares though were from Ulfric and Ralof. "Face your death with some courage you damn thief!" Ralof harshly reprimanded.
They all got up and stepped out of the cart. They stood facing the female captain, and another Imperial soldier. "Step towards the block when we call your name, one at a time!" The captain called. Hearing her order the Imperial next to her pulled out a parchment. Ralof muttered something under his breath about the Empire and their lists.
The Imperial soldier stepped forward and began reading the names off the list. "Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm." He said slowly as he marked the name on his list. Ulfric closed his eyes and nodded as in acceptance before he walked to the block.
"It has been an honor, Jarl Ulfric." Ralof said to him as he passed by.
The Imperial froze when he saw the next name on the list. Slowly he rose his gaze and his voice. "Ralof of Riverwood." He called casually. Ralof stepped forward. For a moment their eyes met. Ralof looked ahead coldly as he walked to the block. The Imperial's eyes followed him with sadness and a bit of regret, before he returned to the list and called out the next name. "Lokir of Rorikstead."
"No! I'm not a Rebel!" The horse thief Lokir screamed. "Please listen to me!" His plea fell on deaf ears. "You can't do this." An imperial soldier stepped forward to take him by force. The soldier reached out his arm to grab him but Lokir evaded his grasp. "No!" He ran from the soldier and dashed past the captain.
"Halt!" Yelled the captain as he brushed past her nearly knocking her over. He ignored her and kept running.
As he ran towards freedom Lokir felt a strange sensation form in his chest and travel up into his throat before finally escaping from his lips. Realizing that freedom was within his grasp he let out a victorious laugh. "You're not gonna kill me!" He cried out triumphantly.
The captain glared angrily at the fleeing prisoner. "Archers!" She called out. Immediately Imperial archers aimed at Lokir. Without waiting for the captain to order them to fire they knocked arrows into their bows and let them fly. Their skilled marksmanship was clearly demonstrated as their arrows pierced his body, not a single arrow missed their mark. Lokir let out a final anguished cry before he fell dead. "Hmph." The captain turned to the rest of the prisoners. "Anyone else feel like running?" She asked with a smirk. The rest of the prisoners were silent. The spectacle they had just witnessed made it clear that escape would be a difficult feat to accomplish. Satisfied that the rest of the prisoners seemed deterred from the thought the captain turned to the one with the list. "Carry on Hadvar." She ordered.
Hadvar looked at the rest of the prisoners in confusion. He looked at the list and glanced between them a couple of times. "Wait." He pointed at Arliss, the Arisen, and the man from Cyrodil. "You three step forward." He ordered. The man and Arisen did as they were told while Arliss watched the Arisen before following her example. When the three stood before him Hadvar asked. "Who are you?"
The first to speak was the man from Cyrodil. He stood tall, and broad, and proud, his deep blue eyes shone bright with determination. "I am Kriger." He introduced himself proudly, his deep voice was unwavering. "I had just crossed the border from Cyrodil not long before."
"You picked a bad time to come home to Skyrim kinsman." Hadvar commented as he wrote on the list. He looked up from his writing at the other two prisoners. "Next!"
The eyes of those around were easily drawn to the two strangers who were left. They looked on curiously, at the two who were so obviously foreigners in their lands. Their clothes, and gear betrayed how out of place they were. The young man appeared to be a Breton, as he was a bit short, as Bretons tend to be. His light brown hair was short, and straight, and hung over a red and gold circlet. He wore a long, crimson, cloak over dark bottoms, and had a strange staff with what looked like a piece of a stone heart at the top. The young woman at his side stood close to his height, only being a head shorter than him. She had dark hair that hung above her shoulders, with bangs held up over a strange black pointed circlet. She wore an armored vest, which seemed surprisingly light, over chain hosen. On her arms were dark bracers. She had a shortbow on her back, and at her sides were two dark twin daggers in the shape of a dragons head. The two wore matching dark cloaks, and black over knee boots.
The Arisen straightened herself. She knew what she was about to say, but she knew not if it would work. Her bright, yet cold, hazel eyes met Hadvar's. Her eyes shining in defiance, she raised her voice in answer. "I am the Arisen." Her tone and bearing held an air of authority. 'I know I told myself if such things existed in this world I would not associate with them, but right now this is all I can do.' She thought to herself as she relied on the title 'Arisen'. "My name is Silvana."
He watched the Arisen closely. He knew not how to answer so he would watch and follow her example. She stood defiantly and loudly proclaimed herself to be the Arisen. 'Since she called herself Arisen there should be nothing wrong with me calling myself a pawn.' Arliss thought. When she had finished her introduction he wasted no time in answering. "I am the Arisen's Main Pawn." He said with some pride. He bowed slightly, and were his hands free he would raise his hand to show his glowing scar. "This pawn is called Arliss." He said raising his head.
"We hail from Gransys." Said Silvana.
'Arisen, pawn, Gransys?' He contemplated those words and their possible meaning. The demeanor of the woman Silvana, especially regarding the way she told them of her title 'Arisen' was one of command and importance. 'She must have been a leader of some sort in the world of Gransys.' He concluded before thinking about the mage who followed her. Arliss had called himself her 'pawn' and even made a distinction by referring to himself as 'main'. 'What kind of title is pawn or main pawn?' He wondered, but even as he pondered it the words were too unfamiliar for him to guess. 'They're not from this world so whatever titles they may have in Gransys won't be of any use to them here.' Kriger thought as he recalled the sky earlier. He then observed the confused Imperial who looked like he was trying to recall if he's ever heard of such a place or title, finally Hadvar gave up and wrote on his list.
"I've never heard of Gransys or such titles before." Hadvar told them before turning to the woman next to him. "Captain, what should we do? They're not on the list."
She looked at them with derision. "Forget the list. They go to the block."
"By your orders Captain." Hadvar turned to the three sympathetically. "I'm sorry." He apologized. Turning to Kriger he said. "At least you'll die here, in your homeland." He then turned to Arliss and Silvana. "We'll try to make sure your remains get returned to Gransys, wherever it is." The Captain began walking towards the block. "Follow the Captain." Wordlessly they did as they were told.
Kriger easily followed first, bravely. He had meant what he said earlier in the cart. 'Execution is a small price to pay to spend eternity in Sovngarde.'
Silvana was only slightly hesitant. She was disappointed that her freedom from the Seneschal's Throne lasted so shortly, but she was not afraid of death, she had already killed herself once before after all. She knew her pain would not last, but the same could not be said of Arliss. He would be forced to watch her die a second time, then he would be killed and would return to the Rift, possibly forever. 'Would he blame himself?' She wondered sadly. She recalled a few of the pawns she met in the Everfall who lost their Masters and spent their eternities blaming themselves and regretting their mistakes. 'I don't want that for Arliss.' She thought. "Arliss" She whispered. "Listen to my final commands."
"Master?" Arliss whispered confused and worried.
"Don't do anything to try to save me, and no matter what happens to me promise me you won't blame yourself." Arliss was shocked upon hearing her orders. "And If you can, try to live." He tried to form a response but could not. "Promise me Arliss."
He felt as if his throat had closed up but forced himself to speak. "I promise." He followed her command and said the words she wanted to hear even though what she asked of him went against every fiber of his being. 'Will I really have to do naught, and watch her die again?' He asked himself.
End of Chapter 3: Road to Execution
Sorry it took so long it was a long chapter. I'm also sorry about ending the chapter there, I wanted to take it further but it was taking a while, and I wanted to get something out for the few of you who like my story.
Special Thanks!
Thank you RavenNox for your advice, I will do my best to keep things balanced. You're also right about the magic.
Thank you Primrose 14 for your feedback, I will try my best to improve. Concrete examples would also be greatly appreciated!
Note: I know that some things may be strange. Things like tis, t'would and aught are purposefully used because I'm trying to emulate the way they speak in Dragon's Dogma. That kind of speech will mostly be used by Silvana and Arliss and it will make them stand out more compared to the folks in Skyrim who speak more normally.
P.S. For anyone wondering; Dragon's Dogma is an Action RPG made by Capcom in 2012 for Xbox 360 and PS3. It has also been re-released on steam, X-box One, PS4, and now it's also on Nintendo Switch.
Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed my story!