Do you ever have those moments… where you wish you were never born? Oblivion, or even where you wish you weren't even conceived or thought of. Maybe your parents never met. Maybe they died young.

I don't mean to start this off morbidly, because I tend to not be much of a dour person. But recently these thoughts have been entering my head. Sometimes it feels like no matter how hard you work to carve your own path, you eventually wander back to the predestined way.

Maybe I'm disillusioned with the grandeur that comes from being a hero. I've been paraded around as one since I was a child. As I stare down this whalebone bridge in the realm of the dead, I wonder, why was it me who was chosen? Why the Dunmer with the heart of gold? Which of my parents was the Dragon? Oh, right, I'm Sodrius Tedayn, the Last Dragonborn, Sixth of the Tedayn Heroes, and this is how I killed a god.

I am a descendant of five other heroes, greatness flowed in my bloodline just as much as the ash from the Red Mountain did. At least that's what my older sister said. My eyes slowly opened, my head ringing as the bright light from the sun seared my eyes. I was being jostled around, and my hands were tied with rope. I had been in this situation enough times to recognize just where I was. A prison cart. They were bringing us to jail, wherever that is.

My eyes finally adjusted to the light and I saw the people on the cart with me. All Nords. Great. One was blonde and dressed in a makeshift leather cuirass with piercing blue eyes and a strong jawline. The other one was dark haired, pale, and caked with dirt. His eyes were sunken and he looked deathly thin, probably living meal to meal. The last was another blonde man, his hair long and in clothes that I reckon would be very well maintained, if it weren't for the fact that he was tied up with the rest of us. Unlike us though, he was gagged.

I don't know what I walked into, but something doesn't feel right about this situation.

"Hey you, you're finally awake." The blonde muttered, "You were trying to cross the border, right? Walked right into that Imperial ambush, same as us, and that thief over there."

"Damn you Stormcloaks. Skyrim was fine until you came along. The Empire was nice and lazy. If they hadn't been looking for you, I could've stolen that horse and be halfway to Hammerfell." The horse thief bit, and then looked over at me, eyes wild, "You there. You and me - we shouldn't be here. It's these Stormcloaks the Empire wants."

"We're all brothers and sisters in binds now, thief."

I don't know why, but I couldn't speak. My throat was sore, my body screaming in pain. The rest of the journey to the small town was a blur. I barely remember anything, to this day. Not even what I was thinking at the moment. The only thing that brought me out of my own head was the sudden stop of the wagon.

"Wait… Why are they stopping?" The horse thief asked, frantically looking around.

The talkative Nord scoffed, "What do you think? End of the line."

The other man began panicking, he was hyperventilating, "No! Wait, we're not rebels!"

"Face your death with some courage, thief."

"You've got to tell them! We weren't with you, this is a mistake!"

The man was ignored. I didn't really have anything to say. It didn't matter. Maybe Daynlea was wrong. I wasn't destined for anything except for death at the hands of our oppressors. The Morrowind way.

"Head towards the block when we call your name." The Imperial captain commanded, "One at a time!"

"The Empire loves their damn lists…" The blonde muttered.

With venom in his voice the dark haired man with the list spoke, "Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm."

The man in question, the noble looking one stepped up. His posture was tall and he had a commanding presence. Even as he was on the verge of execution.

"It has been an honor, Jarl Ulfric!" The blonde man announced. A few of the other rebels cheered as well.

"Ralof of Riverwood."

Ralof, the name of the one next to me, walked towards the line starting near the block. He looked like he did not regret a single thing. A man with conviction. That I could respect. Too bad we'd both be dead within the hour. The horse thief in front of me was getting anxious. Antsy. He was looking around trying to find any way possible to get out of this.

Alas for him, it was not his lucky day.

"Lokir of Rorikstead."

Lokir stepped forward, shaking and on the verge of tears, "No! I'm not a rebel! You can't do this!"

He looked in the eyes of the Imperial Legion members for sympathy, and found nothing. SO the horse thief did as he knew best, and ran. He took off running up the street hoping beyond hope that he could make it to the gates and escape.

"Halt!"

He did not stop. It looked like he couldn't even if he wanted to. He was determined to not die today. Ironically, if he had just waited a few more minutes he would've probably survived. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

"Archers!"

At the captain's orders, three people drew bows and peppered the cowardly thief with arrows. He landed on the street with a thud. Blood oozing out of each wound on his now freshly dead body. She turned her head back towards the rest of us, an aggravated look in her eye.

"Anyone else feel like running?" She ground out through clenched teeth.

Nobody answered her question. The truth was, nobody felt like they had a chance of survival either way. It didn't matter. At that, she nodded in satisfaction and turned towards the carts once more.

The man, though, looked confused. He kept glancing at the list and then back at me before he finally spoke.

"Wait… you there. Step forward."

I did so, almost on autopilot.

"Who are you?"

Despite the situation I found myself in, I really didn't want to answer the question. Maybe that would be setting in the reality of the situation. Maybe it was a form of trying to keep anonymity if I somehow managed to escape. Ha, unlikely. I was gonna die here. So what would it matter if some Nord knew who I was? It didn't change the fact that I didn't have any family for him to send my remains back to.

I looked him in the eyes, my blood red piercing into his blue.

"Sodrius Tedayn of Ald'ruhn." I said proudly.

Or about as proudly as I could muster dressed in rags and tied up.

"Another refugee, huh?" He sounded genuinely sad, as he wrote my name on the list, "The gods really have abandoned your people Dark Elf. What should we do, he's not on the list?"

The captain glared at me long and hard, and apparently I came up lacking, "Forget the list, Hadvar. He goes to the block."

"By your orders, captain." Hadvar looked conflicted, as he turned his head back to me, "I'm sorry. We'll make sure your remains are sent to Morrowind. Follow the captain, prisoner."

So I did. She walked past the line of rebels and stood with the other members of the legion, as I walked in between Ralof and another Stormcloak. She nodded at an older Imperial man dressed in very decorated armor. He stepped up to Ulfric and glared, crossing his arms in disappointment.

"Ulfric Stormcloak. Some here in Helgen call you a hero. But a hero doesn't use a power like the Voice to murder his king and usurp his throne." By the end, I could tell the man was struggling to keep his composure. It got worse when Ulfric just grunted, "You started this war, plunged Skyrim into chaos. Now the Empire is going to put you down, and restore the peace!"

This all seemed very much… a show. Like they were trying to prove something. Or send a message. As the Imperial general finished his verbal dressing down of the Stormcloak leader, a loud bestial roar echoed throughout the mountains. Everybody turned to look at it. Most people were cautious. I stared in the distance, the roar sounded… familiar. I don't know how to describe it. Like it was something I had been waiting my whole life to hear.

"What was that?" Hadvar muttered.

The general glanced towards Hadvar, "It's nothing. Carry on."

"Yes, General Tullius." The captain said, stepping forward as Tullius stepped back, "Give them their last rites."

A priestess nodded and raised her hands towards the sky, "As we commend your souls into Aetherius, blessings of the Eight Divines upon you, for you are the salt an-"

The man on my right grunted and stepped up towards the block. Fool.

"For the love of Talos, shut up and let's get this over with."

The priestess seemed less than impressed, but stepped back, "As you wish."

The arrogant Stormcloak glared at the headsman, "C'mon. I haven't got all morning."

His knee was kicked, rather roughly, by the captain, causing him to go face first into the block. Where the headsman slowly began raising his hefty axe.

"My ancestors are smiling at me, Imperials. Can you say the same?" Strangely enough, he sounded content with how he was going to die.

Shortly after his declaration his head was removed from his shoulders. Many of the Stormcloaks began jeering and throwing insults at the members of the Legion. Ulfric looked like he was almost smug. The captain kicked the corpse of the arrogant man aside as she looked around at the surrounding prisoners.

Her eyes, obviously, landed on me.

"Next, the Dark Elf!"

As I stood there baffled, another roar shook the mountains. Everyone turned towards it. Hadvar went up in between Tullius and the captain and muttered something.

"I said, next prisoner!" The captain ordered.

Hadvar tried to be comforting, but it didn't really work. I still stood tall as I walked towards the executioner's block. Ignoring the captain, I knelt and put my head on the block of my own free will. No use delaying the inevitable at this point.

I pointedly ignore the head of the Stormcloak sitting in the basket on the other side of the block and glare up at the headsman. Who slowly raised his axe and was about to behead me when another roared sounded off.

Landing on the tower was a large black dragon. Looking like an incarnate of death and 's landing quite literally shook the tower and the ground beneath it, knocking many of the people standing nearby on their ass, including the headsman. The dragon opened its mouth, ignoring the arrows being shot at it and seeming to revel in the panic and fear, and a simple three word phrase came from its mouth.

"JIID SO DAAN!"

A storm cloud appeared in the sky, and meteors began falling. Slamming into the tower as the beast jumped off and began flying. The tower tipped towards me and then everything went dark.


A/N: This has no relation to Dragon From Ash, the name is just very similar and there may be similar plot threads, such as the Dragonborn being Dunmer. I don't actually know how much is the same because I've never read it. I just like Dunmer. I only know about it because I saw it in passing, and read the description. Anyway, this will story will feature a harem because something about the Dragonborn with a harem just feels right. I have a few members down, and they are the ones who will appear in the story description. If I decide on anybody else, I will let you know. Just keep in mind just because they appear in the description doesn't mean they will immediately appear in the story, and there might be someone who doesn't appear who will show up before the ones in the pairing. I plan on this going through the main story AND MAYBE a couple faction stories, I don't know which ones yet. This is going to be a series, Dawnguard and Dragonborn will be in the next entries. Sorry Serana stans, she's not gonna be important for a long time, but she will probably be in the harem so there's that. Anyway, thanks for reading and leave a review and all that jazz. So long and goodnight!