Chapter 2

A particularly rough patch of road jolted Saqho-yol awake. It was about mid to early morning by the smell of the air. She sat up and looked around. She had no idea where they were.

"Hey, you," Ralof said, "You're finally awake."

Saqho-yol nodded ruefully.

"You were trying to cross the border, right? Walked right into that Imperial ambush, same as us, and that thief over there."

Oh, the irony... she thought.

From her right, the thief in question said, "Damn you Stormcloaks. Skyrim was fine until you came along. Empire was nice and lazy. If they hadn't been looking for you, I could've stolen that horse and been halfway to Hammerfell."

Saqho-yol snorted a laugh and raised her eyebrow at the man.

"You there," he continued, "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" Ralof spat.

The driver apparently gotten over his grudge in the night. "Shut up back there!"

Saqho-yol rolled her eyes. "Make us." She muttered.

"And what's wrong with him, huh?" The thief said, nodding at the guy in the fur cloak, sitting next to Saho-yol.

"Watch your tongue," Ralof hissed, "You're speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King."

The thief looked just as surprised as Saqho-yol felt.

"Ulfric? The Jarl of Windhelm? You're the leader of the rebellion." he said.

She got a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. The thief gave voice to her thoughts.

"But if they've captured you... Oh gods, where are they taking us?"

Ralof sighed. "I don't know where we're going, but Sovngarde awaits."

Saqho-yol hung her head. "Damn." She muttered.

"No, this isn't happening, this can't be happening!" the thief looked around wildly.

"Quit your whining. It IS happening, unfortunately." Saqho-yol said. The carts were coming into view of a town wall. She felt like she should know where they were, but she'd never been to Skyrim in her life.

In a kinder voice, Ralof asked, "Hey, what village are you from, horse thief?"

"Why do you care?"

"A Nord's last thoughts should be of home."

The thief paused for a few seconds, and then said, "Rorikstead. I'm...I'm from Rorikstead."

"I'm not a Nord," Saqho-yol added into the conversation for once, "But I'm from Skaven, in Hammerfell."

From somewhere down the road, an Imperial soldier shouted, "General Tullius, sir! The headsman is waiting!"

The voice that was apparently this General replied, "Good. Let's get this over with."

"Bastard." Saqho-yol muttered.

The thief picked that, of all times, to start praying.

"Shor, Mara, Dibella, Kynareth, Akatosh. Divines, please help me."

Saqho-yol looked over and snorted.

"Talos guard us." she said quietly.

As they came through the gate, a man in Imperial livery, saddled up on a horse came into view. He was talking with what must have been an Altmer.

"Look at him, General Tullius the Military Governer," Ralof spat the name like it was a curse. "And it looks like the Thalmor are with him. Damn elves. I bet they had something to do with this."

Saqho-yol spat neatly over the side of the cart. "Thalmor, eh? Gods damn them and the Aldmeri Dominion."

Ralof looked at her with eyebrows raised.

"I've had more than my fair share of difficulties with their uptight asses already." She said. "They need to keep their noses out of Hammerfell's business."

Ralof nodded in appreciation, but didn't say anything. She looked around again, at the houses and flags.

"Where are we, anyway?" She asked.

"This is Helgen." Ralof said.

"Figures." She muttered, remembering that she was going to come through here anyway on her way to Morrowind.

Ralof continued with a smirk., "I used to be sweet on a girl from here. Wonder if Vilod is still making that mead with juniper berries mixed in. Funny, when I was a boy, Imperial walls and towers used to make me feel so safe."

Saqho-yol smiled sadly at his nostalgia. "Agreed."

From a nearby house, Saqho-yol heard a young boy talking, or, arguing, with his father about the soldiers. She wasn't sure if her were talking about the Imperials, or the Stormcloaks.

"They always want to be soldiers when they grow up." She said softly.

The first cart was called to a stop, and another Imperial, a woman with a commanding, if rather arrogant sounding, voice, ordered the prisoners out of the carts.

The thief, always keen on the moment, asked, "Why are we stopping?"

Saqho-yol glared at him, but Ralof supplied the answer. "Why do you think? End of the line."

Nobody moved for a few moments. Saqho-yol watched the prisoners on the first cart slowly making their way off.

"Let's go," Ralof said, somehow proudly, "Shouldn't keep the gods waiting for us."

Saqho-yol stood with the others, her knees and thighs protesting at having been sitting down for so long. The thief, however, wasn't going to go quietly.

"No! Wait! We're not rebels!"

"You are now," She muttered at him.

"Face your death with some courage, thief" Ralof said from behind her. She chuckled rather wickedly.

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

The woman who'd spoken before, the arrogant one, stood next to an Imperial with a clipboard.

"Step towards the block when we call your name. One at a time." she said.

"Sir, yes, sir." Saqho-yol said with a smirk.

Ralof snorted a laugh. "Empire loves their damned lists."

"Ulfric Stormcloak. Jarl of Windhelm." Said the guy with the clipboard. Ulfric walked proudly past the Captain and the list reader.

"It has been an honor, Jarl Ulfric." Ralof said.

"Ralof of Riverwood."

Saqho-yol watched as Ralof followed the Jarl toward the chopping block. "It's been a pleasure knowing you, Ralof." She said quietly. Ralof smiled sadly over his shoulder.

"Lokir of Rorikstead."

The thief stepped up to the Captain, desperation pitching his voice.

"No, I'm not a rebel. You can't do this!"

Lokir ran straight past the Captain as she yelled, "Halt!" Saqho-yol shook her head with a small smirk as she called the archers to the ready. Lokir the horse thief met the fate of a coward, an arrow in the back.

"Appropriate." She said, with an arched eyebrow.

"Anyone else feel like running?" the Captain stared directly at Saqho-yol. She kept her face in the same petulant, sarcastic expression. If she was going to go out, she was at least going to give the bastards a piece of her mind.

"No, sir. I feel like staying right here."

The woman glared at her, eye twitching slightly. The guy next to her looked up from his clipboard.

"Wait. You there. Step forward."

Saqho-yol's eyes never left the Captain's as she stepped up politely to the list reader.

"Who are you?" he asked.

"Saqho-yol of Hammerfell. Great Grand-daughter of Ven'Aak, Champion of Cyrodiil."

The Captain looked vaguely surprised at this, but the list reader wasn't even listening to the last part.

"What are you doing here, Redguard? You a sellsword? A sailor from Stros M'kai?"

Saqho-yol's eyebrow twitched at the ignorance.

"Captain. What should we do? She's not on the list."

Apparently, not even relation to a legend preceded her. The Captain glared at her, and then turned to the list reader.

"Forget the list. She goes to the block." She was practically smirking.

"By your orders, Captain."

The list reader turned back to Saqho-yol. "I'm sorry. I'll make sure your ashes are returned to Hammerfell. Follow the captain, prisoner."

Prisoner. The word grated on every nerve as she spat at the Captain's feet before following her. She ended up standing next to the brown-haired Nord from the front cart. The one from Cyrodiil. Before she could say anything to him, General Tullius started speaking.

"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."

Excuse me, he did what?

"You started this war, plunged Skyrim into chaos, and now the Empire is going to put you down, and restore the peace."

Out of nowhere, some kind of roar echoed off the mountains. It sounded almost like a large metal bar sliding against a stone. Saqho-yol looked to the sky, but she couldn't see anything over the guard tower in front of them.

Somehow, the list reader was on the same thought stream as she was.

"What was that?"

General Tullius crossed his arms and stood taller. He still looked shaken.

"It's nothing. Carry on."

"Yes, General Tullius." The Captain sounded arrogant as ever. Turning to a priestess, she said, "Give them their last rites."

It sunk in, then, that this was really the end of the line. Saqho-yol mentally prayed to Akatosh to save her the way he'd saved Ven'Aak.

"As we commend your souls to Aetherius, blessings of the Eight Divines upon you, for y-"

"For the love of Talos, shut up and let's get this over with!" The brown hair beside her interrupted.

The priestess stopped her recitation and lowered her hands. "As you wish."

The soldier stood in front of the block for a few seconds, and then shouted, "Come on, I haven't got all morning."

The Captain guided him to his knees with her hand, and then pushed his chest into the block with her foot. Even as she did, the brown-hair kept up his jabs at the guards.

"My ancestors are smiling at me, Imperials. Can you say the same?"

Saqho-yol thought about it. In all honesty, she wasn't sure if Van'Aak would be proud that she was facing her death with courage – at least more than Lokir had – or if she'd be rolling in her grave because she'd gotten caught with a band of Stormcloaks, and the leader of their rebellion.

As the ax came down on his head, Saqho-yol looked away, and whispered, "At least you died with your ancestors, Nord of Ven'Aak's home."

Around her, she heard various shouts and curses at the Imperials. She looked up at Ralof, who said, "As fearless in death, as he was in life."

"Next," called the Captain, "the Redguard!"

Saqho-yol looked up sharply, her mind playing the same phrase over and over again. Akatosh, save me. Then, another roar echoed through Helgen. Whatever was making it, it was getting closer.

"There it is again," said the list reader, "Did you hear that?"

Saqho-yol was about to answer, but the Captain interrupted. "I said, next prisoner!"

The list reader gave her a small pat on the shoulder. "To the block, prisoner. Nice and easy."

"Nice and easy my ass." She spat, but she went. She felt the Captain's hand on her back, and then her foot as her chest was rammed into the stone chopping block. She stared up at the executioner, and, with what she figured was her last breath, muttered, "Kogaan, Akatosh."

Just then, something huge, and blacker than the headsman's mask flew over the mountain.

"What in Oblivion is that?" Tullius shouted. Saqho-yol wasn't even paying attention to what the guards were shouting anymore. The headsman was knocked to the ground by the shockwave, when a dragon landed on the guard tower.

It roared, no, it shouted. Saqho-yol could barely make out words. Then, the force of the dragon's speech hit her like a sledgehammer, and she rolled away from the block. Her vision blurred, and her limbs wouldn't function. Her mind was reeling. Had Akatosh really answered her?

She heard words again, but they weren't coming from the dragon. It was Ralof.

"Come on, the gods won't give us another chance!"

Saqho-yol stumbled to her feet and found Ralof's shape amongst the general bur. He headed for the keep, and she stumbled blindly after him. Once inside, she stopped and let her vision adjust.

"Jarl Ulfric! What is that thing? Could the legends be true?"

"Legends don't burn down villages." Ulfric sounded a bit huskier than usual.

The dragon roared again. Yol... part of my name?

"We need to move. Now!" Ulfric shouted.

Ralof looked at her and nodded to the stairs that she'd neglected to notice. "Up through the tower, let's go!"

She could barely hear him over the crashing outside, but followed Ralof up the stairs. The top was, unfortunately, blocked by a cave-in from the roof. The Stormcloak working on them was saying something about clearing a few more, when the dragon slammed it's enormous head through the wall.

"Toor... Shul!"

Flames burst into the room, and Saqho-yol ducked to avoid being toasted. She could almost understand the words. Almost. She looked up and out of the wall, into the blood-red eyes of the dragon, before it took off, away from the tower.

Ralof ran up beside her and pointed to a charred husk of a building.

"See the inn on the other side? Jump through the roof and keep going."

Saqho-yol gave him a look of consternation. "Through there? But the dragon-"

"Go!" He interrupted, "We'll follow when we can!"

Saqho-yol nodded, stepped back a few paces, and launched her self out of the window. She landed with a thunk on the floorboards, and grunted at the hard landing. Still, adrenaline kicked in and she bolted for a hole in the floor. She fell through, and looked around. An Imperial Soldier was protecting some townsfolk as best he could. One was a kid. She was about to run up and help the boy, but her hand binds and the dragon that had just landed on the other side made her run instead over to the older man.

"Yol, toor, shul!" The dragon shouted flame and nearly singed the soldier as he bolted for them.

"Still alive, prisoner?" It was the list reader. "Keep close to me if you want to stay that way."

She really didn't have much of a choice in the matter, he was trained to fight and her hands were still bound up in ropes.

Hadvar was talking to the older man with the boy. "I have to find General Tullius and join the defense."

"Gods guide you, Hadvar." said the old man. So that was his name.

Hadvar took off around the corner, and Saqho-yol followed as best she could. She kept one eye on the Imperial and one eye on the ground so as not to trip. They ran over a small bridge, and Hadvar shouted, "Stay close to the wall!"

She did, but she had been paying no attention. Suddenly, a loud crash echoed above them, and Saqho-yol froze in place. The tip of the dragon's wing was about a hair's breadth from her nose.

"Toor, shul!" Flame blasted a few guards still shooting arrows.

The dragon took off again, the wind from the downdraft of it's wings blasting Saqho-yol almost to her knees.

"Quickly, follow me!" Hadvar shouted. She clambered after him, nearly tripping as she went. She didn't pay much attention to the clamor that was going on around her. At one point, someone shouted, "Die, dragon!" almost in her ear. Then they came through an arch, and there was Ralof.

"Ralof! You damned traitor. Out of my way!" Saqho-yol ran past Hadvar, bumping him with her shoulder as she went, and stood proudly, but in a fighting stance, next to Ralof.

"We're escaping, Hadvar. You're not stopping us this time." He said with a smirk.

"Fine. I hope that dragon takes you all to Sovngarde." Hadvar cursed.

"It was nice knowing you too, list reader." Saqho-yol spat, just as the dragon flew over them.

Ralof ducked slightly. "You! Come on! Into the keep!" She followed without comment. The dragon was right on top of them now. It hovered, just before she ran into the keep, and it spoke to her.

"Zu'u Alduin! Yol..." And she dashed through the doors.

Ralof immediately went for a downed companion of his. Saqho-yol stumbled after him. Shocked. Alduin... that's his name. Alduin. She thought.

Ralof stood up and looked around at her. "Looks like we're the only ones who made it. That thing was a dragon, no doubt. Just like the children's stories and the legends. Harbingers of the end times."

Saqho-yol looked at him sharply, but he just shook his head.

"We'd better get moving. Come here, let me see if I can get those bindings off."

She stepped closer and held out her wrists. Carefully, Ralof took an iron dagger and sliced the ropes. Saqho-yol flexed her hands and her wrists. Being tied up for so long had her shoulders and elbows aching, and her wrists were red from where the ropes had chaffed.

"There you go." Ralof said. "May as well take Gunjar's gear, he won't be needing it any more."

Saqho-yol carefully stripped Gunjar's dead body of armor and weapons. It wasn't much, but Sahqo-yol thanked the Nine that none of it was badly damaged.

"Alright. Get that armor on, and give that ax a few swings. I'm going to see if I can find some way out of here." Ralof said, examining a door.

There was an ax, and while it was a weapon, it was not one she was used to. The armor was serviceable enough. A bit beat up, and a lot of fur, but, it fit, the belt locking in the last notch.

"Gods, I'm small. How do I look?" She said, brandishing the foreign weapon to the best of her ability. Ralof snickered, but nodded, and turned his attention back to the gate.

"This one's locked. Let's see about that gate." Ralof said, turning his attention to the barred gate across the room. Saqho-yol holstered the ax and went to inspect it with him. As she looked through the gate, voices came. No, just one. A stern, arrogant –

"Imperials! Take cover." Ralof hissed.

The two of them ducked next to the door, on either side. Sahqo-yol pulled out the ax and held it with both hands. From the other side of the gate, clanking footsteps approached.

"Let's get this gate open." Came the voice of the Captain. A couple of clanking sounds followed.

Saqho-yol was staying as quiet as possible. Unfortunately, the moss growing in the stone wall was tickling her nose, and she kept trying not to sniff. She didn't have long to wait though. The gate slid into the floor, and the Captain stepped into the room.

All the rage from the near-execution filled her, and Saqho-yol leaped forward. The ax she wielded buried itself in the Captain's left shoulder. Ralof took the soldiers behind her, and Saqho-yol finished the Captain with a blade to the helmet. Ralof finished off the soldiers, while Saqho-yol took the Captain's sword.

"Not so tough now, are you?" She hissed.

"Maybe one of these Imperials have the key." Ralof said, crouching to search the pockets of the two fallen. Saqho-yol found it on the Captain, and showed it to Ralof triumphantly.

"Did you find the key? Let's see if it unlocks that door." He ran to the other door, and Saqho-yol followed. The key fit the lock perfectly, and the door swung open with a shrill creak.

"That's it. Come on, let's get out of here before that dragon brings the whole tower down on our heads." Ralof took off down the hallway that led left of the door. Saqho-yol followed. They went down a flight of stairs and turned a corner, just as the dragon made a pass over the tower, and a huge section of the ceiling caved in front of them. The reverberations shook them, and Saqho-yol stumbled back.

"Damn." Ralof jogged over to the wreckage. "That dragon doesn't give up easy."

"Through here then." Saqho-yol said, and opened a door in the left of the passageway. There were voices coming from inside, and Saqho-yol charged in, sword drawn. Ralof was right behind her.

After a quick break to loot the room, the two of them continued on through two torture chambers, an cavern with Imperials stationed in it, over a wooden – and then broken by a cave-in – bridge, and a long cavernous tunnel with a small stream running through it. Then, a large room covered in nothing but spider silk and cobwebs. They dispatched the frostbite spiders with ease, if not a bit of girly shrieking. At least from Saqho-yol.

"I hate those things. To many eyes, you know?" Was Ralof's only comment.

In another cavern, Ralof stopped and crouched. In a patch of sunlight was a bear. Ralof handed Saqho-yol a bow and some arrows, and she killed the bear with one shot.

"Sneaking is over-rated, eh?" He said.

"Nah. Just seeing if I inherited any skill from the last adventurer in my family."

Just up ahead was a bluish light. Ralof beamed when he saw it, and they both bolted for the exit.

The fresh, cool air was wonderful, and Saqho-yol hadn't realized how much she'd hated the dank, dusky air of the caverns. She breathed deeply once, and the Ralof told her to duck. She looked up, and Alduin soared overhead. She watched him go for a few seconds, and then Ralof straightened up.

"Looks like it's gone for good this time." He said. Saqho-yol nodded in reply.

"There's no way to tell if anyone else made it out alive," Ralof continued, "And this place is going to be swarming with Imperials soon enough. So we best clear out of here." He started walking down the road, and Saqho-yol trudged after him. The day was starting to catch up with her.

"Where are we headed?" She asked.

"My sister, Gerdur, runs a mill in Riverwood just up the road." And with that, they started a sedate jog down a long and winding path to Riverwood. Along the way, Ralof pointed out several landmarks, the Guardian Stones – Saqho-yol was blessed by the thief, same as Ven'Aak – and Bleak Falls barrow. He chatted along easily enough, carrying most, if not all, of the conversation.

When they got to Riverwood, Saqho-yol was about ready to collapse. After a long but kind chat with Gerdur, she was allowed into her house, where she immediately sat down at the table, and began to write again.

Morndas, 17th of Last Seed, Riverwood, Nightfall

Words cannot express how grateful I am to still be able to write in this. The past two days have been the most harrowing of my life thus far, even surpassing the day my mother died.

The Stormcloaks I was staying with got attacked the morning of the 15th by Imperials. I had almost escaped, but they caught me too. I gave in. What else was there to do? Fortunately, they let me keep the small bag with this and my charcoals in it. Apparently it didn't count as valuable or a weapon. Either way, they imprisoned me and the Stormcloaks, and took us to Helgen.

I was not two seconds away from losing my head when a dragon, apparently named Alduin, appeared out of nowhere and started torching the place. In the confusion, Ralof and I managed to escape through the keep. Ironically enough, I now owe my life to Alduin as much as to Ralof. Gods, what a sight he was. Huge and black as the night sky, with eyes like fire.

Ralof tells me that Jarl Ulfric of Windhelm might know where Alduin came from. He also has just asked me to consider joining the Stormcloak rebellion. Apparently, you don't have to be a Nord to fight for freedom. Given that I owe him one, I am considering it.

The strangest thing happened though, and I can't stop thinking about it. I said, "Kogaan Akatosh" just before Alduin appeared. Was that my doing? What did I even say? I have a feeling this will be chasing itself around in my head for years.

Saqho-Yol