Chapter One

Jokai, a young Breton clad in silver trimmed steel armor ran through the woods southern Skyrim. The trees a blur as the soldiers clad in black, riding horseback drew closer. Knowing he would soon be surrounded Jokai gripped the hilt of the longsword loosely mounted at his hip and ducked behind a tree. He stood there, breathing heavily, thinking back to earlier that day.

Earlier that day:

Jokai was only eighteen when the soldiers came to the small mountain village of Helgen where he lived, looking for the new dragonborn. There were mostly Nords in his village, but he watched from his window as the Imperial and Thalmor soldiers dragged whole families from their homes and loaded them into covered wagons. The soldiers went from house to house growing ever closer in their search. They were only a few houses away when Jokai's father burst into his room. Jokai jumped, startled, and quickly turned to face his father.

"Father, I thought you might be one of them." Jokai stuttered, his long silver hair falling in his face.

"Sorry." Jokai's father spoke as he dropped a heavy sack on the floor. "Get away from that window boy."

"But Father I was only watching."

His Father ignored him and spoke hastily, " Quick, put these on and run!" Jokai could see his father was quite upset.

"Father, what's the matter?" Jokai walked over and knelt beside the sack where he found the armor. "Is this mine?" He asked.

"Yes, it is. Now please hurry!" His father grew more and more frantic as they heard the soldiers taking the house next to their's.

Jokai began putting the armor on, "Father, what's going on?"

"Jokai, I hoped we would never have to have this conversation..."

"What conversation father?"

"You were not born to this family, Jokai." His father spoke swiftly as he helped him put the armor on. "You son, are dragonborn."

"But father, I feel just as human as you and mother."

"That's because you've yet to be trained." His father buckles the armor into place and reaches for the sword in the corner of Jokai's room.

"Yet to be trained?" Jokai asked, confused.

"Silence Jokai!" The soldiers were at their door. His mother was stalling them as Jokai's father quickly fastened the sword to Jokai's belt. "Listen to me Jokai, your mother and I will be imprisoned for harboring you. You must flee north, to the Lycan Wood, to the rebel's camp."

"But Father..."

"Go Jokai! Run!" His father pushed him out of the room, down the hall and out the back door. "Go!" The soldiers force their way into the home, dragging his mother behind them. "Mother!" Jokai yells drawing the attention of the soldiers, one of them yells, "There he is! Get 'em!" Jokai's father slams the door in front of Jokai and bars it shut. Jokai pounds on the door yelling for his parents hearing the noise of the struggle within. As the noise subsides Jokai, with tears in his eyes reluctantly turns to run for the forest. The last thing he heard was a soldier give the order to give chase.

Jokai snapped out of the memory, cursing himself for not doing more to protect his family. He could hear the soldiers' horses drawing closer before coming to a halt in a small clearing near the tree he had chosen for cover. One soldier however continued to charge. Jokai drew his sword, took a few deep breaths, and turned from behind the tree screaming, but the soldier, who was wielding a lance had struck a glancing blow on his shoulder plate. Jokai's sword went flying and he fell hard to the ground, the impact knocking the air from his lungs. He laid there, on the ground, trying to breath as the lance-man came around, bringing his white Imperial stallion to a trot. He halted his horse just above Jokai and removed his helmet, "Well, well, well. I thought you were supposed to be a mighty warrior. Trained in the way of the voice and all." The soldier and his men all laughed heartily.

The lance-man dismounted his horse and kicked Jokai in the ribs as he tried stammering to his feet. Jokai let out a grunt and a strained coughas he fell back to ground.

"Guess not." The lance-man chuckled.

"Captain, we shouldn't linger here long sir." A soldier spoke to the lance-man with concern.

"And why not?" The captain responded.

"Well, these woods sir, they're..."

"The Lycan's Wood, I know boy." The captain retorted, "Am I to be afraid of some of Hircine's dogs?"

"Well, no sir but..." Just then, a deep howl rang through the woods. The horses began to panic, the captain's horse took off running before he could grab hold of the reigns. Jokai was still laying on the ground, trying to catch his breath through his own growing state of panic. The captain was looking around as the howling stopped, and the woods went quiet again.

"See boys, just dogs, nothing..." The captain's words were cut short when a spear came flying from the shadows of the woods, piercing through his back just above back plate of his armor, coming out his sternum just beneath his breast plate and into the ground, dropping him to his knees. The other soldiers turned their horses and fled. Jokai managed to clamor back to a tree and set his back against it. He sat there staring at the captain, watching him choke up blood as he died. Jokai was still struggling to catch his breath, his vision was blurring, and all he could see was a large dark figure walking towards him. Just as the figure reached out to grab him, he blacked out.

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