Edric I

The wind hit me in the face making it itch where the stubble was growing in as I looked over the city. It was a city with a rich history but in recent times it had become a pit for Skyrim's worst people. Not everyone who lived within the walls or the territory it governed were bad people, but times were growing harder and people flocked to the city for protection and safety. Bandits had taken the country side and hinterlands and a serial killer stalked the streets claiming women at random as his victim. All while the Jarl sat in his palace fighting a war that had not even started.

I had been raised in the stony cold walls of Windhelm all of my life. I had never known my mother; she had died giving birth to me. I was raised by my father the Jarl of Windhelm. Father had told stories to me about how his mother was just a drunken night when he returned to his city after the Markarth Incident. Ulfric had never been much a father. He had never really come back to Eastmarch after the war.

Being born as the son of the Jarl had its own perks. I had been well taught by the court mage in all manners of histories, sciences, religion, and politics. I was an eager student of history and religion which only made my father say, "Good, science is for the mages and math was for a steward."

Yet there were downfalls to being the Jarl's son. My parents were not wed when I was conceived, nor had they married when I was brought into this world. Therefore, I was not the legitimate heir to my father's seat. Should my father die without naming an heir the Thanes of the court would elect the next Jarl. They could choose from their number, or place anyone they wanted on the throne.

Being a bastard in Skyrim was not a bad thing by most cases. Courtship as seen in Cyrodiil had no place in the frozen northern land. Many families started with two people finding comfort and warmth in each other's beds at night and one thing lead to another and an amulet of Mara would be given. Only the Jarls and their courts cared for a last name. Unless you were from a noble family then you would have to earn your last name by doing something for your lord. The problem in my place was that I carried no surname, only the name given to me by my father: Edric. Nothing would tie me to Ulfric other than similar sounding names. He told me I would earn my last name if I wanted to be his son. For this I have been shunned by most of the nobility, the common folk do not see me as a bastard but as my lord father's son.

Although my future was uncertain I was trained to take his place. "If you earn my name I do not want to be ashamed to call you my own." Ulfric had told him when he was old enough to lift a sword. Now twenty, I had received the best training my lord would provide for me. I know not if the best was what I received, I just know I took in everything I could manage. Yrsarald taught me how to fight with either hand or both. I was trained to use a bow as proficiently as any Wood Elf. I could shoot an arrow through an apple that had been thrown in the air. I was taught how to use a shield for defense and as an offensive weapon.

All this training would be for when the war my father planned for happened. The Elves would come from their isles and their woods and attack .It was all I have ever heard. That or the half men would come from their cliffs and attack. I was trained to lead men into battle in his name, not carry out his name.

Yrsarald broke my thoughts, "Boy, come when have something to talk over with your father." I followed him off the walls of the Palace.

My father had his court called to order. The thanes of Eastmarch had all gathered together already when we entered.

"A courier came from Solitude today." Ulfric announced. "The Emperor will be here in a month. He is touring the Nine Holds in celebration of the High King marrying the Count of Bruma's daughter at the end of his tour."

The assembled gentry began murmur to themselves about what was to come.

"I expect you to each get your holdfasts in order and be ready to meet back here with a tenth of your profits as a tribute to Titus Mede II. His heir apparent Tullius Mede will be with him. Edric, you are to meet with Tullius and lead him through a ride of the Hold. Take a group of guards with you as an honor guard. You may pick these men out of the city guard. Galmar, I expect the Dunmer riots to be put down and your brother to be kept at home where he can't start more." Ulfric droned on and on through his orders to each person so I retreated to my room in the upper floors and picked up the book I had been going through, The Knights of the Nine.

"You have an issue with leading Tullius through the Hold?" Ulfric walked into the room without a moment hesitation.

"No, my lord." I stood to speak to him, bowing my head. "I just thought you were through with me and dismissed myself." I immediately knew what I had done wrong.

A hand slapped the back of my head pretty hard.

"You are not to leave your lord before being dismissed. How am I supposed to present you before an Emperor or you yourself one day if you can't learn this." He did not yell. If he yelled the Thu'um would be laced within his voice. It was dangerous for people who could Shout to shout.

"I am sorry, my lord. I meant no disrespect." I lowered my head further in shame.

"Pick your head up boy, I am sending you with Tullius for a reason. Aye, he is many years your elder and I doubt you would have little to talk about, but you day he will rule the Empire and you might rule Eastmarch. When the Elves come he will need you. I would think it wise to build up trust in you now."

I continued to stare at my father. I was not allowed to even acknowledge him as such.

"Now then, there is more to that meeting that you missed." Ulfric continued. "The Silver-Bloods have sent word that the Reachmen have been rising up again. This time they are calling themselves the Forsworn. They have been raiding the hills and preying on the roads all through the Reach."

He paused for a minute to catch his breath. He was older than he looked. He would have been my age when he fought in the Great War twenty five years ago.

"I am going to Solitude when the Emperor finishes his tour to petition him as well as the High King to raise up a militia and put down these terrorists. Should I be given the go ahead I will have you leading a small band of soldiers."

"Yes my Lord." I hoped that we were finished.

"Lastly, I have inquired with Jarl Ravencrone about you being a potential suitor to her daughter." He smiled.

With that my head tilted up. I had no experience with women. While I had seen the camp followers and tavern wenches that many men spent the night with I could not bring myself to sire a bastard with one of these women like my father did before me. My mother may have been one of those women and I knew not what my future held. How could I raise a child or how could the woman?

"She told me if I make you my legitimate heir she would pay the dowry price. She has a son not much younger than you, but that daughter is your age and the Ravencrone's are an old family."

I was crestfallen I did not see him making me his heir anytime soon.

"If you lead well against the Reachmen I will make you my son." He looked at me. His cold blue eyes searched into my own.

"Yes my lord. I will serve you and make you proud." I dipped my head again in respect and with that he left.

That night I slept little. Dreams of battle with small Nords with pointy ears crept into each dream until something worse came into my thoughts. I saw brothers fighting each other, Skyrim's snow turned red, Windhelm had armies marching outside its ancient and proud walls. I saw smoke and fire rising up from camps all over the kingdom.

In this dream I saw Ulfric sitting on his throne with a wicked, angry crown placed upon his head, and a young Nord around my age handing him a ceremonial axe. That axe declared war. Death and disease soon followed while my father sat on his seat giving speeches.

I woke with a start and attempted to sleep again with little success. This dream came in the form of fire. Shadows would descend across the open plains on women, children, livestock, any who dared the open spaces. I saw the stony hall of the Graybeards where I visited once as a child. I was plagued with these dreams all through the night.

Finally I had my last dream. Golden ships came ashore on Skyrim northern border. I saw the pines trees of Falkreath and Riften burn while Nordic men were fighting in the north. A dragon was suffering in the south. It was curled up lying bleeding in the ruins of a city, while a bear was surrounded by golden spears. Every time the bear moved one way the spears would push him in the opposite direction. The bear was pushed to the dragon, but they were crippled and half-starved and began to fight each other.