I walked to the ledge of the stone shelf of the mountain we had been in for countless hours, closed my eyes, and took a deep breath of fresh forest air. To finally be rid of that centuries-old dust!

"Is that Ilinalta?" Ralof's voice came from behind me as he and Faendal approached the edge.

I opened my eyes and looked out at the sun-kissed lake below us, surrounded by beautiful forest. On the water were fishing boats, and on the other side, what appeared to be buildings when squinting.

Faendal replied, "Yes, looks like we're on the southern side. There's Oakwood," he pointed.

Oakwood? I turned to him, then back to the buildings across the water.

Before I could even ask, Ralof looked over the edge and pointed out a path, "We can follow the bank North to Riverwood."

Faendal nodded, "On it," and led us down the rocks.

It was not the simple pathway I would have hoped for with my sore limbs and back, but at least we were going downhill. With each stone we dropped down, the air warmed and the foliage increased. Finally on grassy dirt, we found a passthrough trail leading alongside the bank of the lake. Ralof kicked off his boots, waded in to his shins, and then, after rinsing his hands, cupped water in his hands and doused his face.

Faendal sat at the bank and chuckled, "Are you going to take your annual bath, Nord?"

Ralof snorted while wiping the water from his eyes and mouth, "A bath would be great. I don't remember when I last bathed."

Damn, neither do I. I looked down at my boots and wriggled my toes which felt grimey just thinking about it. I removed my boots and stepped into the water, but then jolted back - THAT WATER IS FREEZING! HOW DID HE JUST WALK IN HERE LIKE- oh. Right.

I slowly submerged my foot through the cold and joined the Nord. I could feel the sweat and grime coming off my toes…until they started to numb. I also rinsed my hands and splashed my face, breathing heavily after from the shock of cold.

"You two have heard of warm baths, right?" Faendal's voice came from behind us. "Heat the water over the hearth…pour into your tub…."

I looked down at my numbing toes at a loss. Ralof scoffed, "You can keep your bucket, elf. This is the bathtub of a Nord."

Faendal chuckled and stood, "Well, lets go. I would like to get back to town before sundown."

I stepped out of the water and winced as I stepped on a rock. I dried my feet on my cloak as best as possible, turned my boots upside-down to get out any dirt, then slipped and strapped them on. Faendal led the way along the trail, and the lake became river. The path twisted in and out of the forest. Upon a bluff, I saw what appeared to be an old Oblivion gate, cracked and ruined with moss and green growing around it on an island in the river. I stopped to admire it.

"The forest." I heard Faendal mutter. I turned and saw him and Ralof walking off the trail into the foliage. I looked to the trail and the river and back to the backs of my companions.

"Guys? Where are you-" I said before I heard a voice in my head.

Turn to the forest, hut, hut.

Turn to me, hut, hut.

Cabin in the woods, hut, hut.

Childhood dream, hut, hut.

I felt my legs move as my eyes became fixated on the forest.

"The forest."


I can't believe it's finally that time of year! My friends and I are going to the cabin! It had been so long since we were last here! I'm so excited.

My best friends Ralof and Faendal led the way, laughing and talking about all the past times we were here! The cabin is the best!

I can't wait to see Mother. She is the best! She makes the best-

A dark canine form lept up in front of me through the bright surroundings, taking me to the ground. I held it away as best as possible, confused as to where it even came from or how I got here while r̷e̵a̴c̶h̵i̵n̵g̴ f̴̛̯ỏ̸̳r̸̐͜ t̸̰͌̋h̵̽̀͜ẹ̶͙̆́ ḑ̵̛͖̞ả̷̺͍ǵ̵͖̮ǧ̵̗̭̿ë̶͙̘́̓͜r̶̤̈́͗͠ a̴̮̅̀t̸̲̝̰͛̚͠ m̴͖̮̫͛͑ÿ̴̧̢́͛͜ b̷̧͖̼͖̳͇̄̌e̸͖̮̲͘ĺ̶̮̩͕̳̙̣̉t̵̹͇̪̤͛̃̌̆͠.̶̹̮̱̗͑̍͋̐

Damn it…That wolf didn't ruin everything, did it?

Hold on a second. I can probably fix this…

My loving mutt bounded up to me, jumped on me, and started giving me kisses. I laughed and laughed as his tongue tickled my face, and I gave him neck scratches. His collar fell off, so I reached down where it fell and put it back on him. He stopped licking me and smiled with pride as b̷̢͒̏̿͛l̶̯̏̉o̷̫̝͙̿o̸̝̝͇̪̲̭̾̓͋͆d̴̨̊ ran down his panting tongue. He came to my side and finally allowed me to get up. I continued walking, but he stayed ̵̢̛̤̮͇̦̱̽͐́̂ͅl̸̢̛̛̛͕̮̝̦̞̐͋̆͊̈̏ͅỵ̷̱͇͖̙̻̒̌̾i̴̡̭̲̣͇͈͎͙̬̇͂̀̿̿̍n̵̺͒͛̈́̍͗͆̓̉g̵̰͒͂̍̽͛̊̕͝ ̸̢̺̫̙́̃̍̌͆͆̀͐͘ț̵̡͙̩̜̳̫̓͌͝͠h̸̖̐̃ė̶̡̢̱̇̍͒́́̾̆̕̚r̵̙̹̤̬̙͐͐̒͑̊̌̎͗̇̕͜ḛ̷͇̖̗̤̝̼̥̫̅̒͊ͅ ̶̟͋̿̿̿̈́̈́̉́̕͝ḑ̸͎̹͓͐̔̇̈́̅̄̈́͠e̵̢̘̦̫̥͖͍͎̮̤̓̇̎͊̏͊̏͂̃͒ą̴̤̰͍̳̯̜̅͋͆͆̄̔̔̀̆ḑ̸̩̯͋͋͑͛̂̈́̕͝.̶͙̈́̅̅̑͂ , begging to be carried. I came over and picked him up, to which he showered me in b̶̨̹̳͇̘͙͕̜̝͍͒͒̐͛͊̚l̴̪̮̘̙͒̄̀̃̄̓̿̿̂͐̚o̶̢̹͈̓̑̑̒̔̅̋̕ŏ̶̮̯̹͛̏d̶̪̖̯̟͑̀̓̇̓͠ once again. Faendal and Ralof looked back at us, happy to see us both and just as excited as we were to get to the cabin, so we hurried on our way.

I couldn't believe it. We finally made it! The cabin was as beautiful as always. We opened the door and descended to the cellar where we would usually stay. We all removed our traveling clothes and laughed and chatted about our plans for tomorrow - it had been a long journey, after all. It was great to be finally at the cabin. Ralof, Faendal, and I lay on the bedrolls Mother had prepared for us, and my loving mutt curled up next to me. I can't wait for tomorrow!


I groggily opened my eyes. The stone room I was in was dimly lit with a torch and a candle. I shook my head to clear my vision and tried to move, but I winced from pain and felt a weight on my chest. I ignited Flames in my hand and nearly gagged. On top of me was a stiff dead wolf with my Steel Dagger through its neck, and I was covered in its dried blood.

I pushed it off and sat up from the sack and straw I was lying on. Where the hell am I? I looked around the room and noticed Ralof and Faendal still sleeping in their underwear. I was about to call to them but heard creaking from the boards above us. Not knowing who or what was coming, I fell back down, pretending to be still sleeping.

The trapdoor to the basement creaked open, and something began climbing down the ladder next to me, creaking bone. I peeked through an eye and nearly screamed as a Skeleton reached its bony arms towards me, but luckily I was too scared to make a sound. I went limp in fear, and it grabbed me and slung me over its shoulder. I opened my eyes as it began climbing back up the ladder. Where is this thing taking me? Should I fight it? What do I do?

My fear kept me still as the skeleton carried me through a much more decrepit cabin than the vision showed. There were holes in the walls and ceiling, and many alchemy ingredients strewn about. The skeleton exited took me outside past a garden and around to the back, where my horror only increased. A figure in a blue robe and hood stood there in the twilight glow, casting incantations upon what appeared to be a crude altar with soul gems and glyphs around the center. The figure turned away to what appeared to be tools, and the skeleton flipped me on the table.

The skeleton turned and seemed to be heading back to the shack, so my eyes fixed on the figure. A familiar voice in my head at the trail filled the air as she began her chant, raising an Iron Dagger to the air.

It's now or never. I carefully stood on the altar and ignited Flames. The figure began to turn around, still speaking her incantation, and I pounced, leading with Flames, bringing us both to the ground. The woman screamed in shock, stopping the chant and dropping the Dagger. I focused the Flames on her face with one hand and repeatedly plunged the Iron Dagger into her abdomen after scrambling with my other hand to retrieve it. I finally stopped, short of breath, as I ran out of Magicka to find a charred limp corpse beneath me. I took some deep breaths and looked around. The altar was no longer glowing, and I couldn't hear the movement of the skeleton. The wind brought a chill to my exposed skin, so I grunted to my feet and hurried back to the basement. I shook Ralof awake.

"What…where are we?" Ralof muttered, rubbing his head.

"I…I don't know some cabin in the woods. We went off the trail," I explained as I began to shake Faendal.

Ralof groaned and rose, looking around. Faendal muttered something groggily and then shot upright.

"Where is our gear?" Ralof took the torch off the wall, looked around, and scoffed upon seeing the dead wolf. "And what in Oblivion is this thing doing here?"

I stood, "We took our gear off. It's already dark out, so I don't know if it's still here."

"It's dark out there?" Faendal stood, wiping his eyes. "How long have we been down here?"

"How the fuck should I know?" I shrugged at him.

"Here! Our gear is here!" Ralof began pulling some equipment out from under an enchanting table. He placed back the torch as we got dressed. "Do we need to fight our way out?" Ralof lifted back up the torch. "We can wait for someone to come down here and ambush."

"No, I took care of it, we were gonna be the subject of some kind of ritual I think." I rolled my shoulders at the weight of the Dragonstone. "Some witch or something."

Ralof scoured a nearby dresser, finding what appeared to be an unfinished letter. "Trolls blood! This is a witch's coven! This letter here is written for some lass named 'Helgi' to join her here…someone by the name of 'Anise!'"

Faendal rushed past us to the ladder. "If it's clear, let's get out of here. I'm not looking to stay any longer than we need to - and we don't need to."

"Agreed." I climbed up the ladder behind Faendal, followed by Ralof, torch in hand.

"Where's this witch?" Ralof said sternly.

"Dead, here." I led my companions behind the cabin to the altar, where, thank God, Anise's body still lay burnt and very dead.

Ralof nodded repeatedly and led us away. "I figured since it's your thing to burn things, but I wanted to make sure the body was burnt and not going anywhere. Especially this close to Riverwood."

Ralof's new torch led us through the dark forest until we reached the trail from before. There was a fork in the path, one leading to the abandoned watchtower we had cleared and one down along the river's rushing water. Descending past some stone, we finally came into view of the torch and campfire light of Riverwood, to which I sighed in relief. The trek hadn't gotten easier with time.

We continued North on the West bank of the river and found ourselves at the doused campfire and bridge that had started this journey. We slowed our pace crossing the bridge.

"It is good to be back," Faendal sighed. "Although we really should have turned back earlier. Wouldn't have needed to face that horrifying...ancestor of Ralof's and gotten kidnapped by a witch's coven."

"But how would you have gotten these amazing stories to tell the boo?" I smirked. "Although I…we had to. The Jarl himself requested the Dragonstone. As for the witch, no one saw that coming."

"I'm looking forward to an ale and warm meal after this," Ralof muttered. "I hope Gerdur isn't too worried, we were out pretty long."

The mention of food made my stomach gurgle. Man, I can go for some of Gerdur's steak and eggs.

At the fencing of Riverwood, Faendal turned to us, "It's a bit late to stop in with the Valerius'…shall we meet there in the morning?"

"Yeah! That sounds perfect." I replied.

"Alright, I'll head back home if you need me. We can split the coin once we get those older ones valued by Lucan." Faendal turned away and headed home.

Shit, I still need to share my goods with these people. I scowled. I'm not counting the necklace and the potions.

Ralof and I once again found ourselves in the alley we used when we left. No villagers were outside, and the campfire was out. I guess it's THAT late.

Ralof and I slowed as we approached the front door of Gerdur's. Ralof produced a key from his pouch and opened the door. The hearth was already just ashes, and the house was filled with snores. Ralof removed his cloak, and I removed my bag and cloak and placed it carefully on the floor. Ralof passed me some bread that I immediately ravenously dug into as he retrieved the bedrolls and some ale bottles. As I laid out the bedroll, he whispered to me as he put fresh wood in the fire, "Can you start the fire? I'm just trying to get to sleep." I nodded and gave it a quick spurt of Flames, which caught and burned brightly and warmly. I removed my boots and the cork on the bottle of my ale and saw Ralof's extended arm, his bottle also open. I smiled and gave it a clink with mine, and we drank.

Ralof removed his boots and laid back in his roll, having downed the ale in one chug. "Goodnight, Guy."

I rose my bottle and replied, "'Night Ralof."

I stared at the dancing flames as I sipped on my ale. I actually survived. I smiled to myself, but my smile faded as I thought of the next hardship…a dragon. There's no way I'm ready…I doubt even Ralof could do much against one. I sighed and took another sip.

I pulled my backpack to me and looked inside. The Dragonstone shone in the flicker of flame, the loot from Bleak Falls, old and new coins sat on top next to the Golden Claw. Next to it was the shape of a bent book. My eyes narrowed, and I pulled it out. The tan cover was crested with the flaming hand symbol of Destruction. The Sparks Tome from Helgen! I opened the bent cover and surveyed the damage. The text was still there, but the ink had run slightly on the ruffled pages that the potions had doused. I could still make out the words and turned my back to the fireplace to get better light.

Spell Tome: Sparks

Novice Destruction

Concentration Spells

Lightning: What is it?

Aiming Your Spells

I stared at the Table of Contents for a moment. I already know Flames and Healing. How hard can it be?

I turned to the Lightning: What is it? Section, there were some symbols that I had no idea the purpose of or how to read, so I skipped them to the text.

Every amateur or apprentice mage has done it: the miscasting of a lightning or shock spell. It recoils upon the caster, and the cry is known well from the instructors of the School of Julianos to the College of Winterhold. It brings to mind the thoughts you might have had as a child watching a thunderstorm from the windows: Lightning - what is it?

After much study in the texts of mages before me and my own practice, allow me to explain. Like Flame and Frost, Shock is an expression of magical power that takes the form of a natural force. Shock is, in fact, an inherent property of fibrous matter, stimulated by friction into sparks, like those you may have given a sibling after rubbing your feet on the rug. This also explains the lightning seen in storms, as the clouds in the sky resemble sheep's wool and fluffy fur. When the storms cause friction, lightning is born.

When a practitioner of the School of Julianos or a mage of the College casts a Shock spell, what is happening? As you will see in your future studies of Mysticism and class lecture in the Arcanium, the reality of Mundus is a tapestry woven of strands of matter and Magicka flowing from Aetherius through Magnus and the constellations. A shock spell channels and manipulates Magicka through the local warp and weft of this tapestry, agitating its fibers and consuming the Magicka in its path. This generates the visible sparking seen in shock spells, which coalesces into magical lightning.

Understanding the elemental force you are using is instrumental in casting any of its family of spells. With the understanding of the principles of Destruction and Concentration spells, you are nearly ready to attempt to cast your Novice spell. Still, you do not be hasty as you must learn to aim your spell, lest you become one of the many learners to misfire and shock yourself or your peers.

I closed the tome there. I ain't no bitch.

I ignited Flames in my left hand and my right as a guide, then began to concentrate, thinking of the theory I had just read. The properties of Destruction…the requirement of concentration, and the stimulation of the Magicka in the fibers of the "tapestry" of reality. I concentrated hard, trying to form the spell in my hand, shutting my eyes. I opened my eyes, and in my right hand, I found…nothing.

I grunted and sat up. Maybe if I already have a spell there, it will be easier? I ignited Flames in my right hand and focused on the properties from Flame burning Magicka for fuel to Lightning: the friction and stimulation of the Magicka in the air. A tiny spark arced from out of the flame and hit my hand, making me cry out as the tome had warned, taking a bit of Magicka from my pool. After checking that no one woke, I sat back up, excited to continue my experiment.

After some time, the ball of Flame began to change to a ball of Shock. Excited, I lost my concentration and once again shocked myself and sent an arc flying past my head, connecting with the metal of the cooking spit. Ralof stirred in his sleep but didn't rise.

I turned back to my hand and focused more. Eventually, the ball of Shock finally formed in my hand, to which I smiled in glee while making sure to keep my focus. I picked up the kettle from next to the hearth and placed it in front of me. I held my hand in front of me and prepared to unleash the spell, thinking of the Magicka in the air on the path to the pot. Nothing was coming out, so I stopped, but the Shock magic bit my hand once again. I shook it, frustrated, and put my hand in front of me, thinking of nothing but sending those arcs through the air and blasting the kettle away, similar to my thoughts of Flames. Sure enough, the arcs of Shock came flying from my hand, connecting with the kettle and sending it flying against the support beam of the wall in front of me. I stopped the spell and ducked down as it glanced off and spun on the stone floor. Ralof bolted up, Ancient Nord War Axe's enchantment glowing, and I heard the stirring of the rest of the family on the other side of the house.

Ralof looked around, surveying the situation. He eyed the kettle and then turned to me. "What in Oblivion were you doing? At this hour?" he hissed, returning his axe to his side.

"Uh…" I looked at the kettle, which luckily had no markings showing, then back to Ralof. "Saucing?"

"What?" Ralof narrowed his eyes as he sat back on the bedroll, then grabbed another log and threw it in the nearly depleted fire.

"Trying to cook," I got up and placed back the kettle. "I…I was hungry and couldn't sleep."

"Have some bread or cheese, there's plenty on the table," he muttered, rolling into his bedroll. "Gerdur will cook in the morning."

I turned to the table and looked at the bread, and my stomach grumbled. Sure, why not? I've earned it! I gleefully chewed on the cold but tasty bread and cheese as I roughly reignited Sparks in my hand.

When I finally finished the bread, I noticed the sky starting to glow through the windows high on the walls, so I tucked into the bedroll to catch what sleeping time there still was, a smile still stamped on my face.