Chapter One:

The Prisoner

Twenty Years Later…

"You have got to be kidding me…"

I ran faster, my legs already burning worse than Kvatch a few hundred years ago. I had to get away, or I'd be dead for sure. Behind me, Thalmor charged, their blades raised and their arrows nocked into their bows. Their armour was shinier than I remembered, which probably meant that they were reinforcements. That also meant that they weren't as tired as I was.

I started my climb, ignoring the road. From rock to rock, I leapt, sometimes sliding because of the cold and cutting my hands or my legs. The Jerall Mountains were just as merciless as an Imperial prison would be.

"Stop! Murderer!" one of the Thalmor ordered as loudly as he could.

I looked back and stuck my tongue out at him childishly. "I'm not a murderer, you idiot! Maybe if you guys didn't go after Imperials all the time, you'd see that!"

I continued to climb, the Thalmor speeding up behind me. They wouldn't have permission to cross the border, so if I could just get into Skyrim...

I made it to the top of one of the mountains, completely out of breath, my body begging for rest. A part of me just wanted to lie down in the snow and let the Thalmor catch me, but I knew I'd never see sunlight again if they did.

I cursed my luck, and the person I'd thought was my friend. If only I hadn't trusted him, I wouldn't be here... I cursed again, but started forward, slogging through the snow with difficulty, the wind threatening to carry me off the mountain, and the snow painfully stinging my face with tiny icicles.

"She's here!" a Thalmor yelled.

They caught up! I doubled my efforts, rubbing my hands furiously on my arms. I was so close to the border, I could practically feel the invisible line dividing Cyrodiil from Skyrim.

"Stop there, criminal!"

I continued forward. "Kiss my frozen ass!"

I looked back as I reached the edge of the mountain. A Thalmor had grabbed a rock from where he believed the border to be and lobbed it at me with all his might. Too frozen to move any further, it hit me in the face, over my left eye. I stumbled to the side and threw my arms out to stop myself from falling, but there wasn't anything for me to grab. I fell from the mountain. Unable to scream, I reached out and tried to grab the nearest jutting rock, which only cut my hands further, but I managed to slow myself down enough so that, when I hit the rocky mountain, I was comically bouncing down.

I didn't know exactly when I'd blacked out, but when I came to, I was lying down in a wagon as it bounced along.

Aw, hell... Did the Thalmor catch me? I groaned as I felt the binds on my wrists. Well, so much for my brilliant plan to flee to Skyrim—.

"Hey, are you awake?" The voice was that of an Argonian, and it was incredibly familiar to me. I really hoped it was who I thought it was.

I moved my head until I saw him. Dark green skin, red face paint, and it looked like he'd gotten a few scars on the left side of his face; it was my best friend, Hides-His-Heart. Well, his nickname was Milos. I hoped that he still went by it.

"Milos?" I asked.

"I figured it was you," Milos said with a smile, showing off his lizard fangs. "You always know how to make me laugh."

"Make you laugh...?" I repeated.

"Well, you were bouncing down the Jerall Mountains. For a minute, the Stormcloaks and the Imperials stopped fighting just to laugh at your unconscious body."

I rubbed my head and found dried blood around my eye. Right. The rock. I made it into Skyrim, so why...?

"Milos, what's going on?"

His yellow eyes darkened. "They think that you and I are with the Stormcloaks. They captured me near Riften, and then they got you at the Pale Pass."

I lifted my head off of Milos' and sat up as straight as my aching muscles would allow. A blonde Nord sitting across from me, with a goatee and dirt plastered all over his face, examined me expertly with his eyes. He was wearing a blue uniform over his chainmail that I'd never seen before, but in the other wagons, there were more people in his same uniform.

"Hey, you!" the blonde man said when my gaze had drifted from him. "Finally awake? You were trying to cross the border, right? Walked right into that Imperial ambush, same as us! And that thief over there!"

I looked to the other people in our wagon. Sitting beside the blonde man was a dark-haired Nord, his eyes darting around from one wagon to the next. Seated beside Milos was another Nord in fine garments, his mouth bound as well as his hands.

"Damn you Stormcloaks!" the thief spat. "Skyrim was fine until you came along! Empire was nice and lazy. If they hadn't been looking for you, I'd have stolen that horse and been halfway to Hammerfell!" The thief looked at me, his eyes finally focusing. "You there! You and me; we shouldn't be here! It's these Stormcloaks the Empire wants!"

The blonde Nord sighed. "We're all brothers and sisters in binds now, thief."

The Imperial soldier driving the wagon groaned. "Shut-up back there!"

The dark-haired Nord snorted distastefully, and then looked at the other blonde Nord sitting across from him. "What's wrong with him, huh?"

"Watch your tongue!" the other Nord snapped. "You're speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King!"

The dark-haired Nord's eyes widened. "Ulfric? The Jarl of Windhelm? You're the leader of the rebellion! If they've captured you..." The dark-haired Nord tensed and started to shake slightly. "Oh Gods! Where are they taking us?"

The blonde Nord hung his head. "I don't know where we're going, but Sovngarde awaits."

"No, this can't be happening! This isn't happening!"

"Hey, what village are you from, horse-thief?"

"Why do you care?" the dark-haired Nord grumbled as he fidgeted.

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

I hung my head. So, they were going to execute Ulfric and his Stormcloaks. That meant that Milos and I would be following them. Milos nudged me gently with his shoulder, so I did my best to smile for him.

"Rorikstead," the thief finally said. "I'm... I'm from Rorikstead."

"General Tullius, sir!" an Imperial soldier called from atop the gates of the village we were being led to. "The headsman is waiting!"

"Good!" an Imperial man called back. "Let's get this over with." General Tullius was riding at the head of the caravan, wearing golden armour similar to the kind that the rest of his soldiers were wearing. He looked old, but he also looked like he'd stick a blade in your eye if you crossed him.

"Shor, Mara, Dibella, Kynareth, Akatosh...!" The thief put his bound hands against his forehead. "Divines, please help me!"

We passed the gates into the village. While our wagons went one way, General Tullius veered off the path to chat with a waiting Thalmor, who sat tall on his steed. I unconsciously bowed my head to avoid his attention, much like I had whenever I encountered a Thalmor back in Cyrodiil.

"Look at him!" the blonde Nord spat. "General Tullius, the military governor! And it looks like the Thalmor are with him! Damn elves... I bet they had something to do with this!" The Nord's voice grew soft all of a sudden. "This is Helgen. I used to be sweet on a girl from here. I wonder if Vilod is still making that mead with juniper berries mixed in...?" The Nord snorted. "Funny. When I was a boy, Imperial walls and towers used to make me feel so safe..."

I looked up at one of the towers we were circling. It had definitely seen better days. What am I doing? I'm distracting myself too much. It's just death. No biggy. I gulped anyways. I wasn't very good at reassuring myself.

"Who are they, daddy?" a little boy asked as he sat cross-legged on his porch. "Where are they going?"

"You need to go inside, Haming," the boy's father said.

"Why? I wanna watch the soldiers!" the boy, Haming, argued.

"Inside the house!" his father ordered. "Now!"

The boy hesitated, and then stood up. "Yes, papa..."

"Get those prisoners out of the carts!" an Imperial woman in armour yelled. "Move it!"

"Why're we stopping?" the horse-thief exclaimed.

"Why do you think?" the blonde Nord replied, shaking his head. "End of the line."

The wagon stopped by a wall near the tower I'd examined before. Milos growled beside me, but it was low enough to just rumble in his throat. I knew him long enough to know that he was annoyed about something.

"Let's go," the blonde Nord said. "Shouldn't keep the Gods waiting for us."

"No, wait!" the horse-thief exclaimed, shaking his head furiously from side-to-side. "We're not rebels!"

The soldiers ignored him. When we jumped off the back of the wagon, the blonde Nord nudged him. "Face your death with some courage, thief!"

"You've got to tell them!" He grabbed one of the blonde Nord's arms. "We weren't with you! This is a mistake!"

The blonde Nord, butted his head against the dark-haired Nord's. The horse-thief released him and stepped back, rubbing his head.

"Step towards the block when we call your name!" the armoured Imperial woman instructed. "One at a time!"

The blonde Nord sighed. "Empire loves their damned lists..."

Milos snorted at that. I remembered when we were young, Milos was one of the few slaves taken in to the orphanage in Anvil. I could probably guess where he wanted the Empire to shove those lists.

"Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm," read a Nord man in an Imperial uniform.

Ulfric stepped towards the block, glaring at the Imperial woman and the Nord beside her.

"It has been an honor, Jarl Ulfric," the blonde Nord said as Ulfric passed by us.

"Ralof of Riverwood," the Nord man continued.

Wordlessly, the blonde Nord, Ralof, walked towards the block. The Nord man and Ralof locked gazes for a moment, but then he went back to his list. I wondered briefly if they knew each other.

"Lokir of Rorikstead."

"No!" the horse-thief, Lokir, exclaimed. "I'm not a rebel! You can't do this!"

Lokir started running the way we'd come. "Halt!" the Imperial woman yelled.

"You're not gonna kill me!" Lokir called back, almost gleefully.

"Archers!" The Imperial woman pointed to Lokir and dropped her hand. Some soldiers loosed arrows on Lokir, and he was hit once in the ankle, and twice in the back. He was dead when he hit the ground. "Anyone else feel like running?" the Imperial asked darkly.

The Nord man looked down at his list and then back up at Milos and I. "Wait..." he muttered, and then raised his voice. "You there! Step forward." Milos and I looked at each other, shrugged, and approached the man together. "Who... are you?"

"Hides-His-Heart of Helstrom," Milos announced, holding his head up proudly and boring his eyes into the young Nord.

I followed Milos' example. "Taryn Greystone of Anvil."

The Nord frowned and looked to the Imperial woman. "Captain, what should we do? They're not on the list."

The woman took one look at us and sneered. "Forget the list," she said. "They go to the block."

"By your orders, Captain." The Nord man placed his quill in his book's spine and closed it. "I'm sorry," he said to us. "We'll make sure your remains are returned to Black Marsh and Cyrodiil."

Yeah, well, the Thalmor will probably try to arrest my remains...

The Nord motioned to his Captain with his head. "Follow the Captain, prisoners."

The Captain walked towards the block, so we followed, playfully elbowing each other along the way. Anything to get us smiling when we died. We stood just to the right and a bit behind Ulfric Stormcloak, who was preoccupied with General Tullius.

"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." Ulfric's eyes narrowed and he grunted something, but it was illegible because of the cloth tied around his mouth. "You started this war! Plunged Skyrim into chaos! And now the Empire is going to put you down, and restore the peace!"

A sound cut through the mountains surrounding Helgen. Low and menacing, I found it shook me to my very bones. Everyone else seemed rather unaffected by it though.

"What was that?" an Imperial soldier asked.

General Tullius waved it off. "It's nothing. Carry on."

"Yes, General Tullius!" the Imperial Captain said, saluting. She turned to a priest standing near the headsman. "Give them their last rites."

The priest held her hands out. "As we commend your souls to Aetherius, blessings of the Eight Divines upon you—!"

"Oh, for the love of Talos!" one of the Stormcloaks groaned as he stepped up to the block. "Just shut-up, and let's get this over with!"

The Imperial Captain glared at him. "As you wish."

"C'mon!" he goaded. "I haven't got all morning!"

The Imperial pushed him forward so he was on his knees, then put her foot in-between his shoulder blades and pushed his neck onto the block.

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

The headsman raised the axe above his head, and slammed it down, right onto the Nord's neck. Blood spurted from the stump on his body as his head lolled into the box at the block's base. The Imperial Captain kicked his body to the side, making a sound of distaste on the way.

"You Imperial bastards!" a Nord woman in Stormcloak regalia shouted.

"Justice!" a man yelled in answer.

"Death to the Stormcloaks!" a woman added.

Ralof smiled. "As fearless in death as he was in life."

"Next, the Imperial!" the Captain called.

I smiled at Milos one last time as I approached the block, but shivered when I heard the roar in the distance again. Goosebumps spread quickly across my arms to prove that I didn't imagine my shiver.

"There it is again..." the Imperial with the list murmured. "Did you hear that?"

"I said, 'Next prisoner'!" the Captain said.

The man cleared his throat. "To the block prisoner. Nice and easy."

I continued forward and faced the block. Like with the man before me, the Captain forced me onto my knees and put her foot on my back. I faced the headsman, not wishing to look into the box that the Stormcloak's head was in, because I was sure that its dead eyes would be staring at me.

The headsman brought up his axe just as another roar sounded. I saw a black shape move across the sky, and my eyes widened.

"What in Oblivion is that?" General Tullius exclaimed.

"Sentries! What do you see?" the Captain called.

As the headsman's axe was above his head, the monster landed on top of the tower and shook the ground. Black scales, darker than the night; eyes redder than blood; it was a Dragon.

"Dragon!" the female Stormcloak yelled.

The Dragon opened its mouth and seemed to shout something at us, and the next thing I knew, fire was falling from the skies. It shouted at us again, this time tossing me away from the block and into Milos. He caught me, but fell on his backside as he did so.

"C'mon!" Ralof yelled at us. "The Gods won't give us another chance!"

We followed him into a tower opposite the one that the Dragon was perched on. Slamming the door behind us, Milos and I looked at each other in disbelief. A Dragon. A real Dragon!

Ulfric and Ralof exchanged a few words before Ralof beckoned Milos and I up the steps of the tower. We followed and saw another Stormcloak, and as we approached, the Dragon broke through the wall of the tower. It stuck its massive head inside and breathed fire at the Stormcloak. The smell of burning flesh filled our nostrils and his screams made me cover my ears. The Dragon removed its head from the tower and took flight again, burning the houses and anything else it wished.

"Jump!" Ralof instructed.

I looked through the hole in the wall and saw a burning house beneath us. "You're not serious—?"

"Jump!" Ralof repeated, this time at a yell.

I took a running leap, my arms and legs flailing in the air to keep me on track, and rolled as soon as I hit the floor of the house. The force of my landing broke the wooden beams, and I landed on my back on the first floor. I groaned, but wasted no time in getting up. Milos leaped after me, landing close to the place I'd fallen, but he didn't fall himself. He jumped down gently and joined me.

Milos and I ran out of the burning house and stopped when we saw the Nord who'd held the list.

"Haming!" the Nord soldier yelled. "Get over here!"

The boy ran over to the Nord just as the Dragon landed where the boy had been. The Dragon breathed fire at them, but the Nord and the boy got away in time and took shelter behind a house, where a Nord man was.

"Still alive prisoner?" the Nord man said. "Keep close if you want to stay that way!" He looked to the other Nord man. "Gunnar, take care of the boy! I need to find General Tullius and join the defense."

"Gods guide you, Hadvar!" Gunnar said, nodding to him.

Milos and I followed Hadvar behind a burning house close to a wall. I looked up and saw the Dragon circling above us. I shivered again, despite the intense heat.

"Stay close to the wall!" Hadvar ordered.

We hugged the wall just as the Dragon landed above us. A claw on its wing was close enough to me that, if I had stuck my head out, the claw wound certainly cut my face. The Dragon roared, spewing fire from its maw, and then took off again.

"Quickly! Follow me!" Hadvar yelled.

I followed him closely as we ran up some steps and into another burning house. The Dragon flew above us, its eyes glinting at the chaos.

"Kel drey ni viik!" the Dragon thundered above us. "The Elder Scroll did not defeat me!"

I gasped and took a step back. Milos ran into me head-on and swore. "Taryn! Hurry! Keep running!"

"Did you hear that?" I exclaimed. "It spoke!"

"What're you talking about?" The house exploded. Milos pushed me towards where Hadvar was. "Run!"

I listened and ran after Hadvar, my heart thundering in my chest. The Dragon spoke! I heard it!

We passed General Tullius, who immediately ordered Hadvar to get out of Helgen. Hadvar didn't like the order, I could tell, but followed it nonetheless. We ran past another gate and to a keep, where Ralof crossed in front of us.

"Ralof!" Hadvar yelled. "You damn traitor! Out of my way!"

"We're escaping, Hadvar!" Ralof retorted. "You're not stopping us this time!"

"Fine. I hope the Dragon takes you all to Sovngarde!"

Ralof ran past us and to one of the doors. Hadvar went to another door. Milos and I only had to glance at each other before we knew who we were following. Hadvar opened the door for us and then closed it as soon as we were inside. We took a moment to ourselves, despite the sound of battle outside, and just took a breather.

"Looks like we're the only ones who made it," Hadvar gasped as he leaned against the door. "Was that really a Dragon? The bringers of the End Times?" Hadvar stepped forward. "We should keep moving. Come here; let me see if I can get those bindings off."

Milos' bindings were cut first, followed by mine. I rubbed my wrists and flexed my fingers gratefully.

"There you go. Take a look around; there should be plenty of gear to choose from. I'm going to see if I can find something for these burns."

I saw Milos immediately set to work to finding some gear, and I took that chance to lie down on one of the beds. By the Nine... I thought wearily. What's happening?