Chapter 1: Cast upon Remnant
(Notes: Had this idea for a while now. Let's see how it goes for my first fic.)
Many thanks to Starhammer for the epic beta reading!
Morvunskar 4E 201.
The Last Dragonborn
"When I finally get my hands on that mage, I am going to hang him by his bootlace!" A young Dragonborn grumbled as he wiped off blots of blood onto the robes of a dead conjurer off his blade.
It was supposed to be his week off. Where did it go so wrong?
The journey into Ustengrav has sapped much fervour from the Dragonborn than he would like to admit.
The newly titled Dovahkiin was engaged in quest after quest, from slaying his first dragon to diving into ancient Nordic ruins to retrieve a piece of stone. The last few weeks have not been kind to him. At least the treasures yielded from his adventures allowed him to acquire a full set of steel plate armour, replacing the flimsy iron which was battered and dented beyond repair. There was also an enchanted steel sword of fiery soul trap, courtesy of Farengar Secret-Fire, the court wizard for Jarl Balgruuf himself. He also purchased a mighty Skyforge steel warhammer in the case of insufficient soul gems for his magical blade and a wide array of potions from Arcadia's Cauldron, ranging from Magicka restoration potions to various potent poisons. The Dragonborn, at that point in time, hardly utilised a bow (although he would not mind getting his hands on a crossbow). He found nocking arrows troublesome and thus relied heavily on destruction spells when it came to ranged adversaries.
For now, he focused on restocking his supplies and taking a much-deserved respite. After exiting Belethor's General Goods Store, procuring a heavy grey cloak to match his armour and to defy Skyrim's frosty weather itself, he decided it was best for him to crash at the Bannered Mare for the night as the city began to descend into darkness. It would also give him some time to think about meeting the mysterious individual who took the blasted horn, and he was going to give that jackass a piece of his mind. A drink would be nice for the time being.
That was his first mistake…
Returning to reality, the Dragonborn was wide-eyed under his helmet as he stared at the luminous portal before him.
"From what I recall, this… was not here when I first charged into the room," he muttered under his breath.
"And leaping through it without a second thought may not be wise either."
The hypocrisy of that sentence… he did spend an entire night going on a drunken spree of pranks across the whole of Skyrim, caressing the bare bosoms of the statue of Dibella all the way in Markarth, bartering a goat to giant, almost marrying a HAGRAVEN for the love of the divines and slaughtering close two dozen deadly mages in a ruined fort. Cleaning up the mess all by himself as well...and now he was at crossroads at a portal.
Even if he had to drag that Sam Guevenne from the depths of Oblivion by his gods' damned fingernail, he would make him compensate.
Gentle rolling streams, the early evening glow, the dimly-lit lanterns, all coalescing with the invigorating atmosphere, banishing every ounce of weariness from the Dragonborn. The ambience of this spiritual forest… feels otherworldly… feels as if an unseen force was draining him of his negativities… it feels… divine.
Following the lanterns, the Dragonborn soon found himself at a forest clearing, a table of revellers clearing indulging in celebration, either unaware or simply ignoring the armoured warrior. The Dragonborn darted his gaze around just in time to spot a familiar person in black.
The Dragonborn stormed towards the mage, readying a string of insults before the supposed Breton cut him off. "SAM! You-"
"You're here! I was beginning to think you might not make it." He pulled the Dragonborn in a brief embrace.
"What-actually… It was quite a trip. Where are we?" That was all the Dragonborn managed to splutter as he fully glanced upon the mysterious realm.
"I thought you might not remember your first trip here. You had a big night. I think you've definitely earned the staff!" Guevenne laughed as he expertly diverted the question.
"Well...I do have all the ingredients to repair it, suppose you want them." The Dragonborn suddenly remembered the bet as he reached into his satchel.
"Oh, the Hagraven feather and so on. You can throw all those out. You see... I really just needed something to encourage you to go out into the world and spread merriment. And you did just that! I haven't been so entertained in at least a hundred years." The mage openly guffawed. The Dragonborn could sense the genuine joy from the man but recoiled slightly at the last sentence.
"So...this was all just a prank?" The Dragonborn jabbered.
The other man recoiled, looking positively affronted. "Just a prank? Just a prank? The Daedric Lord of Debauchery does not deal in mere 'pranks'. This may have begun as a minor amusement, but it wasn't long before I realised you'd make a more interesting bearer of my not-quite-holy staff." In a flash of Daedric magic, Sam Guevenne was no more and in his place stood…
He was tall, taller than the average man. His eyes were as black as the abyss. Were eyes even a concept to them, to the Daedra?
The darkness was kind to his features, but somehow there was a brooding sense of evil beneath the surface and a hint of sulphur from Oblivion itself. Clad in the armour of evil incarnate, Daedric. And then he smiled at him, fangs and jagged teeth gleaming beneath the illumination of the palpitating skies. Sanguine.
"Why did you choose me?" The Dragonborn was still astonished at the presence of the Daedric pantheon.
"Let's be honest here. I don't always think through my decisions. But you... you're going places. Maybe a little influence from your old uncle Sanguine could help adjust your course a bit..." He may be a Daedra, but years later, the Dragonborn would recount that out of the fifteen others he would eventually meet, Sanguine was certainly the most impressionable (Except Sheogorath, maybe, but he is a madman).
"Thanks, I guess." The Dragonborn chose his words carefully. After all, it is common knowledge not to agitate the Daedra.
"My pleasure. But I think it's time for you to go. No fun keeping you locked up in here with the staff. Oh...and one last challenge, off you go!" With a flick of his finger, the prince sent the Dragonborn spiralling through a freestanding portal conjured behind him, yet a dreadful expression soon overwhelmed the features of the once grinning Daedric Prince. His gaunt eyes shrunk as the portal contorted and warped. Violent waves of energy engulfed the Last Dragonborn's physical body as he began glowing in a hue of black and white.
"SANGUINE!" The Dragonborn roared with all his might as unnatural forces threatened to latch onto him whilst a thousand voices roamed through his physical body as well as his ethereal form. The Daedric Prince looked upon the phenomenon in horrifying bafflement as magical might unknown even to him tore his newly-anointed champion from his domain, leaving nothing more than a burnt crater in its wake.
"Oblivion be damned!" Sanguine cursed out in exasperation. His jagged fist crashed deeply into the fertile soil. Just as sudden as was his lamentation, irate laughter soon overtook the Daedric Prince of Hedonism. His cackling rumbled the entirety of Misty Grove as his voidly eyes peered within the ancient abyss of his Daedric arts. A mad grin once again adorned the twisted features of the dark prince.
"And So… There Are Two More!"
The Dragonborn rubbed his aching head upon landing face-first after the accursed portal spat him out. "Ugh...where am I? This is the last time before I jump through any portals without thinking twice."
Having studied at the Arcane University in the City Isle of Cyrodiil for the majority of his youth as far as he can remember and most recently a rising prodigy in the College of Winterhold, it would be an insult to call him to be just an avid student in the schools of magic, yet he was unable to comprehend even the slightest idea of the previous happenings.
He tucked Sanguine Rose into his pocket dimension, a feat he had accomplished recently and was proving to be endlessly useful. The Dragonborn did an overall equipment check as he whipped out his map. Upon initial observation, it was a forest of some sort, a lush one as well. Perhaps he was in the Rift or somewhere in the Pine Forests in Falkreath? However, the surroundings feel...somewhat different. For all he knows, it could just be a plane of Oblivion simply conjured just to mess with him, plus he had no bearings to work with.
"Well, if I keep walking, I ought to reach a landmark or something." The Dragonborn mumbled.
A few hours flew by as the Dragonborn made his way past an endless array of trees with only the sound of nature and the clanking of his steel plate armour driving away the eerie silence. Grey clouds loomed over the crevices of the dense foliage as the Dragonborn continued his trek.
"Nothing so far, not even a single animal. Perhaps I should have diverted to a road...bah, it is probably getting late, I should make camp-" The Dragonborn's internal monologue was suddenly interrupted as, from his peripheral sight, he noticed thick black smoke on the horizon.
'Finally, something! But the smoke... it could be troublesome.' The Dragonborn found conflict stewing deep within himself. At least it is a sign, something he can work with. The Dovahkiin silently cursed as he broke out into a full sprint towards the smoke, eager to seek out its source.
"By the divines…" The Dragonborn was horrified as he meticulously weaved through the remnants of the destroyed settlement. His joy was short-lived upon discovering the town aflame, its people slaughtered, and its remains desecrated. The town was alien to him… the aesthetics of the buildings… or rather what was left of it, were constructed of sturdy stone, and their roofs lathered with tiles. Mayhap this town was once home to stonecutters as most village houses of Skyrim are of wood and thatch.
Originally, he wrote it off as a dragon attack, but after closer inspection of the various corpses, he made out several claw marks and bites. Feral werewolves? The attack was still fresh, the bodies had yet begun to rot, and the perpetrators had to be nearby. The Dragonborn cursed himself for not arriving earlier if he had been just a little faster… but now was not the time to lament. The people of this town will be avenged… no, they must be.
An inhuman screech rang from the other side of town, alerting the Dragonborn as he rapidly turned towards the direction.
Drawing his steel warhammer from his back, the Dragonborn ran with all his might, praying that where that monster was, survivors could very well be there.
Skidding around the corner, the Dragonborn found himself gazing upon two children huddled underneath the decrepit remains of a broken house. They were dirty, their bodies covered in soot and filth. However, what stuck out the most was a dim emanation that covered their entire bodies.
'They live, praise be!' the Dragonborn heaved a sigh of relief. The two children immediately took notice of the armoured stranger. A glimmer of hope shone in their eyes before returning to fear as the vile creature released another one of its putrid screams, causing both of the little ones to inch further back into the debris.
It was an enormous horse-like creature with a main equine body and a skinless top half of a human that was fused with it. Its forelegs were shaped like claws, and it had hooved hind legs that left a characteristic hoofprint. The humanoid body had long curved bone-white horns on its head, a mouth that looked almost sewn shut, and two long elastic arms, each with two clawed fingers. On the back of the human torso were boney spikes along its spine and a variety of weapons from previous battles stuck in it. The Dragonborn tightened his grip around his warhammer as a cold rage threatened to overtake him, he encountered his fair share of Daedra's, but this one... was the foulest so far.
Quickly reinforcing his body with Ironflesh, the Dovahkiin lobbed a few lesser firebolts at the creature, caking its lower body in the destructive fire.
"WULD!"
Whirlwind carried the Dragonborn forth in rapid momentum as he smashed into the creature, raining down a barrage of vengeful blows from his warhammer. His rage grew hot, rage towards the accursed creature before him, rage for the death of a village he never knew. Its twisted limbs began to flail wildly as it attempted to lay the Dragonborn low, howling its degenerate cries as it was struck over and over.
A swift contortion slipped under the Dragonborn's guard, sending him flying into the ruins of a shophouse, Ironflesh barely holding on as he jerked back into motion.
"Tch." spat the Dragonborn as he reinforced himself further with a layer of Stoneflesh, sparks of lightning soon crackling in his left hand. He looked towards the two younglings still huddled under the remains of the broken building, gazing at him for salvation. He would not fail them now.
Unleashing a torrent of lightning, the Dragonborn cried out for retribution as his chain-lightning grew fiercer by the second. Dark blue turned to an ominous purple as the abhorred creature bellowed in agony, its dark flesh charred and shredded under the force of the destruction magic. Soon after, its horse-like body gave way and wilted. The gaunt humanoid body slumped and twitched, perhaps an attempt to cling onto whatever energy that still sustained its miserable existence.
It heard the sound of blunt steel scraping against stone, fading crimson glaring into the black void of the human's helmet. The foul creature spluttered a weak gurgle as its killer drew near, its body dissipating as he came closer.
"Back to Oblivion, back to whence you came." The Dragonborn's voice was filled with venom and disgust. Finally, with a triumphant roar, the steel warhammer was brought crashing down, reducing its bone-white head into a black sludge.
Snapping back from his battle frenzy, the Dragonborn glanced frantically for the two children, fearful that he may have very possibly vaporised them with his chain lightning. Heaving another sigh of relief as the two were still under the ruined house, the girl's eyes practically gleaming with awe while the boy held a much more reserved expression. The Dragonborn approached them with the utmost caution; he was not ignorant to the fact that despite being Imperial from birth, at the age of two and twenty, he stood at a towering six feet eight. His heavy armour probably elevates him a little more, a useful tool to intimidate his foes. A woeful bane to low-hanging doorways, however.
Prudently, two armoured limbs extended to meet the children as they instinctively flinched at the gesture, fear once again threatening to seize their hearts as the stranger looked much scarier up close.
"I bid you no harm, children. Please, it is not safe here, lest more of these creatures would choose to reveal themselves." The Dragonborn soothed the wary duo.
It worked to a certain extent as the boy and girl relaxed slightly, allowing the Dragonborn to scoop them up. Although coated in dirt and filth, the girl bore a head full of ginger hair as she prodded curiously at his armour, straining her turquoise eyes into the slits of his helmet, quite a jovial one. The boy one held a more steady composure. Well, he was trying his best. The Dragonborn raised an eyebrow as he took notice of the unusual streak of pink amongst his jet-black hair. 'Dye most likely,' The Dovahkiin mused.
"Come now, let us go. I will get you to safety. I swear it." The Dragonborn spared a forlorn glance at a charred and mangled corpse not far, presumably either a parent of the boy or girl, as he struggled to not look.
With the two little ones in his arms, the Dragonborn decided it was best for them to return to the dense foliage. He could figure out what to do with them tomorrow. It has been quite a long day.
"This looks like a nice place to set up for the night. Come, sit down." The Dragonborn gestured at a fallen log as they reached a more secluded area of the forest.
"Are you a huntsman, mister?" The girl asked with much excitement in her voice.
"Huntsman? I doubt there is much game to hunt in these forests. Besides, most hunters would run at the sight of a Daedra...well...most people would." The Dragonborn replied dryly as he reached into his satchel to pull various camp supplies. A simple convection flame darted from the tip of his pinky, setting the campfire ablaze.
The girl's confusion was momentarily cut off as her jaw hung wide open upon seeing his Magicka being put to work.
"How did you do that? Is it like just now when you shot lightning from your hands?" She quickly blurted out, her eyes almost gleaming in excitement.
"It is probably fire dust, Nora. But I'm not sure about the lightning." The boy chipped in passively, although the Dovahkiin could tell he was just as curious.
Now it was the Dragonborn's turn to be muddled. How would pieces of dirt contribute to magic? The doom-driven hero allowed himself a small chuckle at the naivety of the children before continuing the conversation.
"Nora, eh? That is a pretty name. What about you, boy?" The Dragonborn turned towards the reserved child.
"Lie Ren." He spoke softly.
The Dragonborn nodded contently as if he knew already before reaching deeper into his satchel for more supplies. These two must be famished by now.
"What about you, mister? You haven't told us your name?" Nora chirped innocently.
The Dragonborn froze instantly upon the seemingly harmless question. From as early as he could remember, he had no name. His youth was mostly spent as a miserable street rat in Bravil, living off whatever scraps available. It was loneliness, is what he chose to believe. Even if the poorest beggar should have someone in their life, right? For he had none, to begin with. He does not even remember having parents. Strange, despite eventually miraculously earning a scholarship in the Arcane University, he was never privileged with a name. For most times, it was just 'You', 'Apprentice' or simply 'Student'. He never spoke much to his peers or professors despite being considered a prodigy at that time. It befuddled him even more just thinking about it, yet he still went with the flow.
"Um… mister, are you ok?" Nora murmured as the Dragonborn spaced out.
"I… uh. Well… you see." The Dragonborn fumbled with his words as he desperately thought of an answer.
"Ysmir! My name is Ysmir. Yes, it is my name." The Dovahkiin exclaimed suddenly, making the two children jump from their seats at the sudden declaration.
"Now, enough with the blabbering! You two must be starving!" The now named Ysmir expertly diverted the question, although he could still notice the peculiar expressions from the two little ones. 'Lie Ren,' Ysmir thought, 'That sounds Akaviri, or was it Tsaesci?' All of this boggled his mind greatly. None of this seemed right.
Around first light, Ysmir woke slightly earlier to begin packing the campsite. The fires of last night have since long been snuffed out as he noticed the two little ones still huddled underneath his massive cloak, which he draped over their sleeping forms. It irked the Dragonborn greatly as he was still scrambling in the dark with no sense of direction. He must find a passage back to Skyrim quickly. After a hearty breakfast of warm stew and bread, reheated from last night, the trio continued west.
Ysmir surveyed the terrain before him, a dark, expansive forest as far as the eye could see. Not that the scenery has changed much for the past few days. From Lie Ren, he learned that the two children hailed from the now derelict village known as Kuoyuri. Ren's father was a hunter of the land, whilst his mother remained mostly as a humble housewife and tutored the children of the village. He failed miserably at not betraying his emotions when he spoke of the attack. Tears adorned his face as he began choking on his words. The Dragonborn pulled the grieving child into a light embrace as Nora also did her best to comfort him. 'He loved them dearly… that is a good thing.' Ysmir silently thought. Too many times had he seen families torn apart, either by the gnashing teeth of feral monsters or the gluttony of men. He should have taken his time killing that black Daedra. For the past few days, the trio made use of the dense foliage to continue their journey west. The ubiquity of lush forests reminded Ysmir of the region of High Rock. However, the eerie presence of those black Daedra bothered him greatly. At times they came in the forms of wolves and bears, their cursed bodies lathered with bone white armour plates artificed with streaks of red cracks. Their most alarming feature was their hateful crimson eyes which blazed with ferocity when the Last Dragonborn struck them down. Ysmir diligently took down notes and made brief sketches of the black Daedra, including noting down their mysterious dissipation upon death. He was not entirely familiar with High Rock. However, he was certain creatures of such magnitude definitely do not stalk the region's wildlife with clockwork regularity. What surprised him the most was the fact that Ren and Nora did not panic and scramble upon the sight of these feral Daedric creatures, although fear was still present in their hearts. Perhaps they were familiar with these types of monsters?
As of now, he was teaching the two children tracking since the boy last night so fervently protested for Ysmir to teach him how to fight. Nora, not wanting to be left out, also advocated the same thing. Ysmir understood the reasons for the children's sudden diligence to wish to take up arms, 'Most would turn to sorrow and rage after grief. Ha, these two instead turned towards determination and resolution. These attitudes will get them far.' Ysmir allowed a slight smile to form under his steel plate helmet. They continued at a steady pace for the next hour before Ysmir held up a fisted hand as the two kids skidded to a halt.
"What do you see here, you two?" Ysmir said as he beckoned the duo to take a closer look at the tracks. There were about a dozen tiny prints scattered across the narrow dirt path, many of which are positioned messily and barely recognisable beneath the dense canopy.
"These are probably rabbit prints since they gallop around. The prints are also adjacent to each other." Ren remarked as he gently brushed his palm on the faint prints.
"The prints also resemble the letter 'U' since rabbits have long back feet!" Nora chipped in cheerily.
"Haha! Very good, you lot, now let us see if we snag one!" Ysmir smacked his hands together. He gazed back towards the treeline, suddenly feeling an odd chill on his nape. There it was, a lonely black raven staring right at him. Its crimson red eyes glared beadily as if it yearned to pierce his very soul. However, when the Dragonborn returned for another glance, the black bird was absent from its perch.
Night fell once more, and the merry trio found themselves setting up camp once more. Nora and Ren were proving themselves to be more avid for the past few days as they studiously learnt various sets of skills from Ysmir, ranging from survival to basic forms of fighting, mainly with a dagger since that is the only weapon their little arms could tolerate. Before they stopped for the night, Ysmir spotted gentle smoke in the general direction where the raven was sitting. Hopefully, this time it was an unmaimed village, and he could finally obtain directions back to Skyrim. Dense forests were gradually getting onto his nerves. Of course, he will make sure the two children get proper guardianship before he departs. The road that lay before him was not one that shows kindness to little children.
"Alright, you two, if my hunch is correct, we should reach a settlement by late morning, and we shall see getting you two some proper care." Evident worry began to show on Ren and Nora's face as the latter bit her lip solemnly.
"A-Are you going to leave us?" She squeaked. Ysmir sighed as his right hand trailed along with the right wing of his helmet. He had no shame in admitting that he had become sort of attached to the two lonesome children over the past few days when serving as their protector. However, deep inside, he knew the path of the Dragonborn was never something he would burden the young and innocent with. Ysmir rose from his seat lightly as he shifted beside the two, undoing the buckles of his steel plate helmet in the meantime. Ren and Nora's eyes bulged in surprise as it dawned on them that it was their first time actually seeing their saviour's face in the flesh.
"Your eyes… they are always changing colours…"To the Dragonborn's surprise, it was Ren who broke composure first.
"Hehe, it's brown! Oh, now it's silver!" Nora giggled. Ysmir also grinned as he thought back to the day. It was during one of the Illusion courses during a semester of his time at the Arcane University. It was an accident when a sloppy apprentice aimed his spell too high and ran it straight into his face across the room.
"Aye, that might be so… but look at this!" With a quick snap, an incandescent ball of light materialised from thin air and hovered towards Nora.
"Woah… it's warm… how did you do that?" Nora gasped as she tenderly caressed the light orb in her palms. Candlelight is a simple yet useful spell. The illuminations of the tiny orb could light up even the darkest of ancient crypts or even serve as a hand warmer during harsh wintry nights. Ysmir continued to smile as he placed a reassuring palm on their heads.
"Look, you two… are still young. I will not abandon both of you to the wolves in these troubling times. Heading to that settlement tomorrow is our best bet to get situated. What comes after… we can ponder about it on another day. Now get some rest. If we are lucky, we will make it by the late morning." Just as the Dragonborn finished, so did Candlelight fade. Although traces of reluctance still lingered on their expressions, the two children nodded as they returned to their stew.
'Aye, good kids they are. May Mara watch over them.' Ysmir mused as he cast invisible ward spells around the perimeter of the campsite.
Around noon the next day, the weary trio finally arrived at the gates of the said village. A town guardsman poked his head over the woodwork walls surrounding the majority of the village. Ysmir noticed a strange rectangular contraption slung over the guardsmen's shoulder.
"Good day, friends! Not every day, this humble town of ours gets visitors. What business do you have?" The guardsman maintained a friendly yet firm demeanour as he studied the Dragonborn and the two kids.
"We seek respite from the arduous road! I also have information about the demise of the village of Kuro… yuri. It was overrun by black Daedra. I have the only two survivors with me." The Dragonborn hailed back. The village name still resonated awkwardly in his tongue. The smile swiftly vanished from the guardsman's face, which was soon replaced with a mask of worry as he gripped the odd rectangular contraption tightly.
"Black what… brothers preserve us, the Grimm… you three better head on inside. The mayor should hear about this. I'll go get him." The guardsman nodded before darting from the ramparts.
It was a simple yet cosy town. The area was bright and colourful and filled with simple raised houses, which reminded him briefly of the architecture in Kuroyuri. It had roads paved with smooth stone throughout the whole town which was surrounded by simple yet sturdy wooden walls. The centre of the town features an open area with a small yet impressionable tree lathered with pink leaves where merchants set up a small marketplace. There were also many stores and shophouses situated in that area. Nora and Ren huddled closely under Ysmir's grey cloak as, despite the town's small population, they were getting quite the stares from the townsfolk. In all fairness, Ysmir is the only person in the vicinity decked out in full plate armour with a warhammer strapped onto his back, not to mention the various types of blades strapped to his waist and concealed beneath his cloak.
'A charming little town.' The Dragonborn mused.
After a brief moment, low voices and the trodding of feet caught Ysmir's attention as he turned around. It was the guard from before, and beside him stood a middle-aged man with greyish and black hair. He wore a red robe accented with gold, a necklace of green beads around his neck and a golden ornamental hairpiece.
"Ahh… you must be that armoured huntsman Frerich was speaking of. Oh, where are my manners? I believe an introduction is needed from me. I am Mayor Shōhei Tō, representative of this humble community of the continent of Anima." The man reached out a hand towards the Dragonborn.
"A pleasure Ysmir. Unfortunately, pleasantries will have to wait, for I bear grim news." Ysmir firmly grasped the man's palm in respect.
"I understand… is it true? Kuroyuri has fallen?" Tō questioned.
"Aye, to the gnashing jaws of those vile monsters. These two were the only ones I managed to save from the destruction." The Dragonborn sighed as Ren and Nora turned their gazes back to the ground.
"By all that is holy… this is terrible. I am sorry… all those people are gone. I… come, good sir, we shall discuss more of this in my residence. Frerich, double the guard for the month. We need to be cautious." There was evident grief present in the mayor's voice, yet he was able to hold firm for his people.
"This way, please, huntsman." Mayor Tō beckoned the armoured warrior to walk with him, and Ren and Nora trailed along.
'Huntsman? It seems poachers get an awful lot of respect in these parts?' Ysmir chuckled to himself before following.
Ysmir approached the low-level gate, fancy wrought iron in a grey stone wall. The house behind it is a simple country home, desirable for being in the centre of town. The front door, made of dark wood planks with black hinges spreading halfway across, had an oriental appeal the Dragonborn secretly enjoyed. Inside, it appears some renovation works had just been concluded, no expense spared - the charm of the country with every bit of amenities accessible.
"Pardon the mess, master huntsman. My wife has been feeling under the weather as of last week. I have allowed myself a little tardiness between my mayor-ly duties and taking care of her." Mayor Tō remarked as he brought out a teapot solid beneath his grip, with the warmth of the clay and the tea.
Ysmir nodded indignantly before turning around to see Nora and Ren making themselves comfortable. The two children dozed off rather quickly since the past week spent on the road has worn them out greatly.
"Please call me Ysmir." He simply stated as Tō led him into the living room. The Dragonborn's sharp eyes gazed over a few books stacked neatly on a nearby shelf, finding them quite curious since they seemed to involve more bizarre topics and lore.
"Ysmir… just Ysmir?" Tō wondered as he sat on an armchair. "All I can say is that you're the most unique guest I've had in a long time. I have seen quite a few huntsmen in the past" At this point, Ysmir sat down across from him, setting his sword and hammer beside his chair as he'd relaxed back. "However, never one well-armed such as yourself?"
"I assure you, mayor, that I am no cutthroat, just a simple wanderer that found himself in the wrong place, at the wrong time." Ysmir shook his head.
"Ah, I meant no offence Ysmir. However, the aforementioned presence of the Grimm is certainly worrying." Tō sighed as he sipped on his cup.
'Grimm? So this is what those Daedra are called… Perhaps this man is an expert on those creatures. ' The Dovahkiin silently pondered.
"Fear not, my friend. I have made an effort to slay every one of those miserable beings that crossed our path. However, their dissipation upon death is troubling for any further examination." Ysmir grumbled while the mayor sighed once more in agreement.
"Aye, that is the nature of the Grimm. They are endless no matter how many we put down…" Tō's voice trailed off.
About an hour or two went by as Ysmir detailed their journey for the past week. Mayor Tō listened attentively as he grew more sullen upon learning the eventual fate of Kuroyuri. The Dragonborn learned that the Mayor's little brother was a resident there, and the two were close from a young age. However, his mood did improve when Ysmir detailed his slaying of the creature now known as a Nucklavee.
"Hoho, that is definitely impressive! I heard one of those things requires the combined efforts of several huntsmen just to bring it down, and yet you slew it by yourself!" The Mayor exclaimed as he set his now empty cup down.
"Thank you for bringing this to my attention Ysmir. I pray the people of Kuroyuri to find peace now that their deaths have been avenged." Mayor Tō bowed his head in gratitude. "We are a small community and do not have much to give. However, your valour will not go unrewarded. If there is anything that I can do within my power, I am happy to help." He continued.
"There is actually… something you can do," Ysmir noted as he looked back to the still sleeping forms of Ren and Nora.
The day soon went by quickly as Ysmir and Tō discussed the appropriate stance on the two orphan's futures. They finally agreed on the two kids hitching a ride on a carriage going to a central town next week. This way, they will get proper tutelage from a decent orphanage. Mayor Tō also offered some basic supplies for Ysmir's journey further on and covered their stay in the local inn for the time being.
The Dovahkiin had every reason to rejoice at their given respite, but he soon found him nearly tearing his hair out upon examining the map given to him after settling down and putting Nora and Ren to bed in their room.
'What in oblivion is Anima? I do not recall there being a kingdom of Mistral existing? What is all this?' The Dragonborn was screaming internally as he read the maps over and over again. He was sure this was not some illusion trick. Perhaps the Mayor made an error? He should ask the man tomorrow morning. It was already late. Knowing that restoration magic could rejuvenate him back to full strength, Ysmir still decided to turn in for the night since it had been a while since he enjoyed a soft bed. Unbuckling his helmet, he decided to recount the madness of the past few weeks as he leaned out the wooden window frame…
The two moons of Nirn, Secunda and Masser, did not orbit the skies of the said realm. Amidst the starlight was the ever glow of a single shattered moon, within the black heavens, upon the clear night, its fragmented shards were a cruel awakening for the Last Dragonborn. He should have known better. He was marooned from the very beginning. That damn portal, those voices bickering amidst the void, visions of light and dark. He did not know or even was capable of knowing.
Perhaps he will not sleep after all…
Somewhere in Anima 4E 201.
The days have gone by in a flicker since Ysmir had come to the brutal realisation that he was stranded in a different existence. Blunt, it may be, but it was the first time that the Dragonborn felt lost and distraught in a long while. During this time, he kept mostly to himself, only chatting up with Ren and Nora during their training sessions or with Mayor Tō on brief matters regarding the village. At least the little town was cosy and comfortable enough for Ysmir to settle and get his bearings straight. Overall, his time alone allowed him to think about the encounter with Sanguine and the aftermath. Even though he distrusted the Daedra, he knew the last he saw Sanguine, the prince genuinely was surprised at the odd magical aura emitting from his own portal. He had little to gain by lying or trying to hinder him by marooning him in a different plane of existence. No matter what, he cannot stay here for long, for Alduin needs to die.
The mix of knocking at his door and the bright sunlight peeking through the window curtains would awake Ysmir, who'd mutter a bit to himself as he'd shift to sit up in bed.
"Damn… the first time I've overslept." Indeed it had been ages since he had such a comfortable bed, especially after the week of travelling he had done and the previous nights spent deep in research of the plane of existence he was currently in. Getting out of bed, he'd head for the door and peek outside to see that it was Ren and Nora all dressed up for the day.
"Good morning Ysmir!" Nora chirped ever so cheerfully.
"I hope we didn't disrupt your rest," Ren added in.
"Not at all. If anything, I needed a wake-up call." Ysmir shook his head.
"Did you have breakfast yet? We should get some." Ren pointed out as Nora leapt onto the bed.
"Pancakes!" She joyfully exclaimed.
Thinking for a moment, he'd nod in response. "Breakfast sounds nice."
Having slept into the late morning, Ysmir would get ready for his quick visit back to the Mayor's house to deliver the medicinal potions he promised in exchange for the supplies. Once changed into his day clothes, he gathered his steel plate armour and took the long walk to the blacksmith, getting the armour checked in for the smith. By the time he had all that sorted out and back at the local inn, it would already be late midday. All it took was a few quests to exterminate the lingering Grimm around the village. The local blacksmith promised him a set of studded brigandine under his plate armour. Yet the Last Dragonborn still insisted on reimbursing the smith regardless. However, Ysmir was more baffled by the man making a big deal of his payments in gold rather than the odd set of horns protruding from his temple.
Arriving back at the inn, he'd heard the clack of wooden swords and shuffling feet around the backyard, along with Frerich speaking out.
"Keep your footing. Never be still during an attack or being on the defensive!" Entering the backyard of the inn, Ysmir hung back to see the captain of the village guard drilling the two little ones, the man shifting and stepping about while Ren did his best to match his movements. The two were in the middle of a sparring duel, Ren matching Frerich's footwork quite well, just like how the Dragonborn taught him for the past few days, yet not flowing with his stabs and strikes like the experienced man. In the end, he overextended a strike, and the captain slipped up close, the blunt end of his practice sword pressed at his little neck. "And now your dead again." He chuckled, Ren, giving a small sigh before he and Nora noticed the Ysmir.
"Ysmir! You're back!" The two dashed over, giving him a sudden hug which caught him off guard. He was not really used to this kind of affection, making a mix of feelings come to mind.
"Heh, didn't think you missed me that much." He remarked once the two let him go.
"Well, you have been busy the whole day. We heard you went to slay Grimm!" Nora remarked.
"Well, I am here now." He looked towards Frerich, who returned a friendly grin.
"Good to see you again, Ysmir. Did you teach these two beforehand? It seems that they have the basics when it comes to sparring."
"More so with a dagger. They always watched how I trained during downtime or whilst I smite the creatures of the dark."
"That's right! He killed a Nuckelavee just by shooting lightning out of his hands! The smaller Grimm couldn't even touch him!" Nora blurted out in excitement.
"Hmm…I see." The guard captain paced around slightly as Ysmir walked more into the centre of the yard.
"I'd like to see for myself, though." Kicking up Ren's dropped practice sword, he caught it with one hand before throwing it to Ysmir. The Dragonborn hardly even flinched as he received the weapon by the grip, spinning it about in his grasp. A grin crossed Frerich's lips.
"Impressive. Very honed reflexes. Back in the day, when I was a huntsman, people still appreciated simple weapons!" The man's stance shifted to be side facing, one hand back at his hip and his sword arm out forward, holding the practice sword in a classic fencing style. The two men circled each other while Ren and Nora stood back some distance, an excited look in their eyes as the two men came to a halt.
Kicking his back foot, Frerich launched forward in swift momentum as he stabbed forth. Ysmir countered with a quick parry as his body turned, his sword arm twisting as he blocked a slash to his side. Both of them kept moving as Frerich pressed the offence while Ysmir focused on dodging or guarding in return. At times the Dragonborn had a window to counter, going in for a quick thrust which the captain barely blocked only to desperately slash upwards to clear some distance. Frerich was on guard now, realising Ysmir's blows had more strength than expected for such rapid attacks, yet he showed no signs of exhaustion or slowing down.
The roles have now switched as the Dragonborn initiated relentless pressure on the guard captain, who began to slow down gradually. He was getting tired by the second as he was solely putting effort on the defence now to just protect himself from the armoured warrior. At this point, the Dragonborn struck more aggressively, stepping forward as Frerich began to falter with his guard. Quickly he spun about, using the momentum to switch his practice sword into his left hand. By the time Frerich reacted to turn about for a guard to the right, he had realised his mistake as a calf kick brought him to his knees.
"Dead," Ysmir muttered as he laid the training sword to the side. Frerich was panting heavily, sweat on his brow and a surprised look in his eyes.
"By Oum, you are mighty! Even under all that armour, you are still faster than me!" He chuckled as Ysmir shifted back. Both glanced at Ren and Nora, who stood there gawking, seeming at a loss for words.
"I…how…I couldn't even keep track." Nora murmured in pure awe.
"And… that is how you duel properly!" Frerich stuck a finger in the air while he still attempted to catch his breath.
"Haha, very much so." Ysmir laughed as he gandered at the setting sun before turning towards the two children. "Alright, it is getting late. You two run along now and wash up. I will be there in a moment." Ren and Nora nodded before hurrying off back to the inn, no doubt eager to finally relax at the end of the day.
"Good kids, eh? They show great promise, y'know. Give 'em a few more years, and they will be well on their way to a combat school. Huntsmen of the next generation…" The proud look in the captain's eyes was soon replaced by a mask of sorrow. Ysmir went along with the conversation as he reached into his satchel, presenting him with a few pieces of bone-white plates.
"Here, the uh… Grimm has been squashed. Unfortunately, all I managed to gather were these scant few pieces of bone plates. They do not leave much behind." Ysmir remarked.
"Ah, splendid news! Folks in the town might just sleep better tonight because of you., I trust those Ursai weren't too much trouble to handle?"
"Other than their grotesque appearances, they fall easily." The two men shared a laugh as the captain pocketed the Grimm plates.
"Before I forget, here is the annotated map you requested. Lemme show you." Frerich said before yanking out the rolled-up parchment from his belt pouch. He held the map out as Ysmir peered over.
"Alright, so on foot, it should take around four days to get to Shion, three if you hurry. However… " The captain's finger traced alongside a faint stylus marking. "There is a hiking trail slightly eastward. Quite hilly and the occasional Grimm, but if you stick to that, you could definitely cut a day from the travelling. Annnd after you arrive at Shion, you could probably catch an airship to the capital city of Mistral."
Ysmir's eyes widened at the last remark. Propelled flight in Tamriel seems to be something of a pipe dream for certain inhabitants. Ysmir remembers skimming over certain Dwemer airship schematics in the University just to be baffled by the even simplest of drawings. Dwemer technology is much more complex than it is given credit for. It is not just a matter of replicating the machinery. There are very complex types of magic that the Dwemer used. These technologies are not well understood by the general population (even the experts are only scratching the surface of how things worked), and most consider using what the blasphemous Dwemer used to be taboo, considering their fate. If there is a working airship in the next town over, there is nothing in this world stopping him from seeing it. Perhaps if the denizens of this world are capable enough to work with such extensive technology, they might just be able to help him find a way back home.
"It seems I owe you, captain." Ysmir bowed his head in gratitude.
"You owe me nothing, Ysmir. If only more huntsmen were like you, looking after the people instead of hounding for personal glory… the world might have been a little brighter." The captain spoke in much gratitude, yet the Last Dragonborn would never grasp the true extent of his words.
For the rest of the evening, the Last Dragonborn decided to spend some quality time with Nora and Ren. Most of which included him just simply enjoying the antics of the two little rascals. Despite the stark contrast in personalities, these two complement each other very well in a wholesome sense. As of now, the two seem to be mesmerised with a children's storybook while they excitedly bounced up and down on the springy bed.
'The Story of the Seasons. By the Gods, these books have proper illustrations!' The Dovahkiin remarked as he continued shining a pair of parrying daggers, a final gift for the little ones before he departs tomorrow. An Orcish and Glass blade, each with their own sheaths, elegant little things they are, so different yet they serve a deadly purpose nonetheless. Probably not the most appropriate of gifts for children less than six summers, but if his younger years taught him anything, it's that the real world is a harsh and unforgiving place. However, it is always important for him to remember that every day can be beautiful if he wants it to be. Every day starts in the dark and ends in the dark, but in the middle, there is light. He wishes for them to see that light someday.
"Nora, Ren. Come here for a while." The Last Dragonborn gently waved the two kids over. He passed the glass one to Nora and the Orcish to Ren, with the former already fawning over the short blade.
"You know," The Last Dragonborn said when looking down, "Even though our time together was short... " He raised his head and put his hand on their shoulders. "Both of you are kindred souls."
Ren held up his hand for him to stop. "Are you really leaving tomorrow?."
"Yes," The Last said after a moment of hesitation.
"Why can't we come with you... please?" Nora pleaded.
Ysmir smiled, gave her a huge hug and said, "I wish it was that way as well. To whisk you away on a life of adventure, how exciting would that be?" The hope in her eyes slowly faded as he sighed once more, yet she held on tighter.
Ren looked to the ground for comfort. "Then... What happens to us?"
"The good mayor has already arranged passage for the two of you into a more stable guardianship… but what you truly wish is up to you."
"Please, we want you to stay..." His eyes were watering. The Dragonborn pulled Ren into an embrace. A faint sparkle glimmered in his palm as green illuminations wrapped around the two children. A touch of tranquillity washed over distressed minds as the lonesome guardian protector caressed their temples lightly.
"The road ahead for me will be difficult and… uncertain. May the gods damn me if I allow the two of you into harm's way. Go on and live life free, my joyful charges." His fingers twirled in repetition as the illusion spell faded.
"Will you come see us again?" Nora finally blurted out, trying to sound as hopeful as possible.
'Unlikely.'
"If the stars are kind, then… yes. We shall meet again. But for now, you should rest." Ysmir could only manage a comforting smile as he placed the two daggers upon the end table. After gently tucking the duo into their sheets, both Nora and Ren still cradled to his side. Sleep still eluded their minds. Perhaps they thought if they never closed their eyes, then their saviour would not go.
"A melody then, an ancient one, to bring some solace." The Last Dragonborn beamed, never fancying himself as a minstrel but a half-decent one he would like to think.
We tilled Skyrim's ground despite frozen toil.
We tended the Kwama beneath Morrowind's soil.
We hunted the Wamasu in Black Marsh's glades.
We three hearts had no need for blades.
Then they came from the seas, folded steel in their hands.
They burned down our homes and ravaged our lands.
Akaviri brought nothing but bloodshed and lies.
Our families were slain before our eyes.
With three separate people, they shared a cruel joke - A choice between death or the yoke.
But then our three people knew what must be done
To end the oppression, our three became one.
Forged by War, the Ebonheart rose.
And drove the Akaviri back to the sea.
When the enemies begged for the mercy, they lacked
Three voices as one shouted, "Blood for the Pact."
Forged by war, our story be told.
No shackles can hold us, whether Moonstone or Gold.
He awoke to the steady patter of rain upon the windows, droplets yet to scatter the nascent rays of the rising sun. The sound brought a calmness to mind, a soothing melody. With his eyes at rest, he pondered about a happy life for himself with blessed moments of solitude. Drift on calm seas, aimless as a child on a warm summer day, paddling, at ease with the fluidity of time. Soon he returned to reality. The song of the rain simmered down as he silently gathered his gear, wary to not wake Nora and Ren. He watched the world come into focus as his face was once again hidden behind his helmet. The twin daggers still sat crisscrossed on the bedside table. It was time for him to depart.
The good captain was already waiting by the time the Last Dragonborn made his way to the village gates. He still had that odd blocky contraption leaning against his shoulder as he gingerly caressed a travelling horse.
"Captain Frerich, I pray that I have not kept you waiting for long?" Ysmir said as he approached the guard captain.
"Ah, it's alright. I'm used to rising early. Here, the horse is yours, and the supplies are already in the saddlebag. It should be enough to keep you going for a few days." Frerich remarked before passing over the rears.
"Thank you for keeping your word, captain. I assume our other arrangement will be seen to fruition?"
"Of course, sir, the mayor has ensured it. Both will be ferried towards proper childcare services by the end of this week." The Last Dragonborn was told while he examined his new steed.
"Then the debt is fulfilled. I thank you and the good mayor once more." Ysmir clasped hands with the captain before saddling up.
"Ride well, Ysmir. May the brother gods watch over you." The captain waved.
'Brother gods? Hmph.' The Dragonborn mused.
PS: Would appreciate one more valiant soul for beta-ing if you like. Just hmu here. Until next time :)