Ciri awoke to the smell of freshly cooked breakfast. From downstairs, she heard Brynjar and another unfamiliar voice conversing. She crept to the space above the kitchen hall to eavesdrop on them.

"The Emperor is slow to move. He knows our forces aren't ready," said the stranger's voice. Ciri took a peek at the stranger, who was heavily armored and sported an elaborate cloak. By the looks of it, he was a military leader.

"No they aren't. Both Skyrim and the Empire are still weakened from the Civil War. We need more time. And a lot of it," Brynjar responded.

"No worries. Ambassador Omindal remains in the Imperial City, clearly still convinced Septimus won't actually act."

"Good then. As long as Omindal doesn't suspect anything, which buys us more time."

"We still need allies though. The Empire will need the support of the provinces. That means Hammerfell, High Rock, and Morrowind as well."

"We'll get to that. For now we just need to bind our time until-, oh good morning Ciri," Brynjar noticed Ciri's presence as she walked into the hall. The stranger also turned to acknowledge Ciri. "Sit down, help yourself to some breakfast."

Ciri sat across from the stranger and began piling her plate with bacon and bread. "You gonna introduce me to your friend?"

"Right. Ahem, Ciri, this is General Tarquinius Mede, brother of Emperor Septimus Mede, and commander of the Imperial armies. General, this is Ciri a…friend of mine,"

General Tarquinius grinned at Ciri. "Really? Just friends? Are you sure about that?"

Ciri frowned. "Are you implying that we're in a relationship? 'Cause if you are, you're sadly mistaken."

The General sniggered. "No, I'm not. It's just that…this little…situation is, well, unique, at best," Tarquinius saw Brynjar blush mildly. "Well, best I be on my way. I still need to talk with High King Balgruuf and General Tulius."

The General and Brynjar both stood up. "Will you be needing any supplies for the trip?"

Tarquinius shook his head. "No, but thank you. I believe my provisions should prove sufficient. Farewell, Dragonborn." Tarquinius shook Brynjar's hand and went out the door. Brynjar returned to his seat across from Ciri.

"Dragonborn? What's that, a nickname or something?" Ciri asked as she grabbed another piece of bread.

"It's more of a…title really,"

Ciri smiled with interest. "Care to explain?"

"Not now, it's a story that would take at least a day," Brynjar poured himself some dark mead.

"Well it's a good thing it's still morning and we've got practically all day," Ciri reached for the same mead.

Brynjar sighed. He quickly downed his drink. "Well, where do I start? Hmm, OK. Thousands of years ago, mankind was enslaved by the elves. The elves used magic to summon foul creatures from other realms to help keep them in power. A priestess of Akatosh, the divine god of time and dragons, prayed to him for liberation. Akatosh answered by giving the priestess, St. Alessia, his own blood, which he promised would seal shut the gates to the evil realm as long as her descendants kept it. The blood was placed in a jewel, called the Amulet of Kings. It is still worn by every emperor to this day."

Ciri shook her head. "What's all that got to do with the name 'Dragonborn?"

"Because the line of emperors is called the Dragonborn Rulers, but the title is false. A Dragonborn is a mortal with the body of a mortal, but soul of a dragon."

"And what exactly is special about that?"

Brynjar sighed. "Before anything existed on Tamriel, there were dragons. They are the children of Akatosh, the Dragon-God of time, and that makes them immortal. They have an innate understanding of nature and can bend it to their use just by talking."

Ciri looked confused. "So, you're saying that fire-breathing beasts ruled this world?"

"In a way, yes. Like I said, their language was so powerful they could control nature and elements, so early men worshipped them as gods. This is where things get somewhat confusing. Akatosh's first-born and the most powerful dragon, Alduin, had the responsibility of ending one world to give rise to the next. However, Alduin instead seized power over men, demanding their worship. So Kyne, the goddess of the skies and nature gave man the ability to fight the dragon overlords using the dragon language, called the Thu'um. Men waged war against the dragons and eventually won, driving dragons to extinction. From then on, Akatosh chose to bless certain individuals with dragon blood, with the ability to learn the Thu'um in an instant. Anyone born with the dragon blood is almost always destined to change history, to be a great leader of some sort, from Reman Cyrodiil to Tiber Septim."

"OK, so you are one of these Dragonborn? You don't appear to be all that important to me."

"Oh but I am. See here's the catch. As punishment for Alduin's treachery, Akatosh sent him forward in time, destined to be defeated by the Dragonborn of that era. That just so happened to be me. Not to mention Alduin was not the only dragon to return; they all did. See, I'm the only Dragonborn to have actually seen and killed a dragon."

Ciri smirked. "So that makes you special somehow?"

Brynjar frowned. "Well, I don't usually boast about this type of thing, but yeah, it kinda does," Brynjar downed another tankard. "Well, I think that's enough about myself. Why don't you tell me about where you're from, huh? Think I deserve to know about who's staying in my house."

Ciri was a bit caught off guard. She'd never had to explain the semantics of her world to someone not from there. "Hmm…I'm not sure where to start really,"

Brynjar chimed in. "For starters, you could tell me about your family, then maybe how you got here."

"Right. In my world…I'm someone fairly important too. Don't give me that look, let me explain. My biological father is the emperor of a very powerful nation that nearly covers the continent we live on. But I wasn't raised by him due to some… complicated issues. Instead, my father is a witcher, someone who kills monsters and protects people from them. He raised me, taught me to fight, and various witcher skills. My biological mother, she died in a storm after I was born. Because I knew Geralt, he introduced me to his lover at the time, a sorceress named Yennefer. She taught me the Elder speech and some magic and how to control my abilities."

Brynjar leaned in, suddenly interested. "Abilities? Like what?"

"Well for example, I can travel at the speed of light. I can also travel between worlds with ease."

Brynjar stared at Ciri a moment before busting out in laughter. "Travel? At the speed of light? Haha! You really are a jester Ciri!"

Ciri's face turned red. "I'd would show, but I'd put your life in great danger if I did,"

Brynjar snorted. "Oh really? Just what danger would you bring? The speed of light patrol? Haha!"

Ciri grew angrier, fist clenching under the table. "No, the Wild Hunt, elves who can travel between worlds and find me like a hound sniffs out its prey. They want my blood."

"Despite the absurdity of all this, that would explain how you practically fell out of the sky. So this… Wild Hunt. They want you for your blood? Why exactly?"

"There's a prophecy about the end of all the worlds: the White Frost. An unending winter will destroy all life in the universe, and only Elder Blood can stop it. My blood, that is. So the Wild Hunt wants me so that I can stop the oncoming apocalypse."

Brynjar stroked his chin. "As outlandish as it may seem, I actually believe you. I've seen so many things just here in Tamriel, I don't find it difficult to believe that something just as absurd as anywhere else. But, this begs the question: how do you plan on getting back home?"

"I guess I don't really know. The best I can hope for is that my mentor, Avallac'h, will come for me."

Brynjar wiped his face with a cloth and smiled his infectious smile. "Well until then, you're welcome to stay here Ciri."

Ciri smiled back. "Thank you. I won't forget your kindness." Ciri blushed a little as she realized she was staring. She looked down, already knowing that his friendship was certainly going to be an interesting one.