The light was blindingly bright, forcing Clear to blink several times until her heightened sight re-adjusted itself to daylight after the long hours spent in the rocky caverns. She was never one for the Northern Provinces, but the small Wood Elf's breath caught in her throat at the scenery before them.
They were at the top of a sloping hill, surrounded by tall pine trees and snow covered shrubbery that littered the earth. Beautiful mountain peaks disappeared into the clouds in the horizon, casing light sun rays down upon the landscape below them as a lone eagle cast a small shadow upon the glittering snow as it flew overhead.
Clear was almost taken to tears by the beauty of it all. She had seen many things in her long life from the magnificent beauty of the Falinesti to the simple mushroom trees of the Arcadian Isles, but this...this was something else. It was beautiful, but it was by no means pretty, like Cyrodiil. The land of Skyrim was painfully harsh and cold, leaving no room for the weak, surviving though the fittest, with a constant struggle to remain. The landscape told of the history of the Nords and of their lifestyle, each mountain holding a memory of being climbed, each tree told of a different winter...that, in itself, was beauty alone.
Just before she could take another step forward, Ralof tackled her and pinned her down the ground amongst the bushes, placing a large hand over her mouth.
"Wait!" He hissed as she started to struggle against him. The elf froze as she heard that familiar echoing roar, as the beast flew over head and into the distance.
"There he goes; looks like he's gone for good, this time." Ralof said, frowning at the skies whilst helping the small elf to her feet.
"No way to know if anyone else made it out alive, but this place is going to be swarming with Imperials soon enough, we'd better clear out of here." The blonde Nord summarised as they walked in unison down the snowy track, away from the nightmare of Helgen. Clear quietly followed besides him.
"My sister, Gerdur, runs the mill in Riverwood, just up the road. I'm sure she'll help you out." Ralof was saying and the elf nodded her head to show that she acknowledged him, but her mind was on other things as they walked steadily down the track, both weary from their wounds.
Where would she go now? She knew her lore well, but with the evident return of the dragons to Tamriel, what did that mean? What did that mean for her? Clear hated to admit it to herself, as she fell slightly behind step with her large Nordic companion, that she was tired. She was tired of the constant trials and prophecies, tired of the expectations and power thrown upon her shoulders, tired of the endless loss... yet nobody knew.
Emerald orbs studied the large powerful back of the blonde Nord in front of her. He had no idea who she was. What she was capable of. What she had done. Was it better that way?
"You know you should go to Windhelm and join the fight to free Skyrim." Ralof's deep voice broke her out of her thoughts, making Clear step up to walk once again besides him.
"You've seen the true face of the Empire here today." He continued, face hard as he stared down the route they traversed. 'That is where you are deeply wrong, dear Ralof.' The crimson elf thought as she walked besides him.
She had done so much for the Empire over the ages she had spent in this world. She had fought their battles, spilt their blood honoured their creed...but whatever side she fought for, both thought their own to be true.
The Empire wasn't evil. Yet neither were the Stormcloaks. Or the Dark Brotherhood for that matter... all factions function on a creed they deem true. So who is to say what is wrong and what is right?
Only the Divines hold that power.
"...If anyone will know what the coming of the Dragons means, it's Ulfric." Ralof continued, oblivious to her thoughts.
"You really think I should join up with Ulfric Stormcloak?" Clear sighed, speaking for the first time during their walk.
"Damn right. You don't have to be a Nord to fight for Skyrim's freedom." Ralof told her deeply, obviously passionate about his cause.
"You think Ulfric knows where that Dragon came from?" The elf asked softly, thin eyebrow rose at the Nord besides her, who blushed ever to slightly at the sceptical remark.
"Well, maybe not. Dragon's haven't been seen here in Skyrim for an age or more. But wherever that dragon came from, whatever it wants, Ulfric will get to the bottom of it. You can count on that. Besides, you have your own score to settle with the Empire now, and that dragon." He ended his speech with a hopeful look in his eye as he stared down at her.
'Your war is tiny.' Clear thought silently. Small scuffles and rebellions will mean nothing in the large scheme of things, it takes one as old as her to realise that.
"I'll have to think about it." She said softly, not wanting to put the man down too harshly after the kindness he had shown her.
"Yeah. Sure. I understand. No need to make decisions right now." He said abruptly, turning his head away so she couldn't see his face. "But I know that after you think about what you saw today, you'll realize that Skyrim disserves to be free."
They continued down the dirt track in silence and soon came to a glittering blue stream that was backed by enormous snowy mountains that seemed to reach for the heavens. Clear could spot something on the top of the mountain, old stonework, ruins it looked like. Ralof soon confirmed her thoughts.
"See that ruin up there? Bleak Falls Barrow. I never understood how my sister could stand living in the shadow of that place. I guess you get used to it."
Clear took another good look at the ruins, they intrigued her immensely, and she silently made note that she would visit them one day.
The path started to slope downwards, following the crystal like stream that was flowing in a spray of rapids. The elf could see silverfish swimming below the surface of the water, following peacefully with the current as the water gushed downwards.
Then she stopped.
Ralof walked right into the back of her but before he could open his mouth, the elf had drawn her magnificent bow and loosed and arrow into the hills to the left of them. An agonizing cry could be heard and the two remaining wolves leapt out of their cover.
Cursing, Ralof sluggishly drew his sword but the larger of the two wolves was quicker. She went to draw another arrow but her hands grasped at thin air. Quick as the speed of light, the elf drew her blade and jumped in front of Ralof meeting barred teeth and foul breath with her ebony blade.
The force of the dark animals leap made her lose her footing and fall to the ground. Teeth were on her neck in an instant and the elf grabbed fistfuls of the beast's fur and tried to yank him away from her exposed throat. All she could do was wait for Ralof to finish the other wolf and end her own.
The wolf went limp against her once it met with the Nord's blade and Clear pushed it off her with haste. With a quick nod of thanks to her companion, she set off down the road with a brisker trot than before.
Soon they came to Riverwood, a small village made of wood and stone with the stream they followed, now a river, which ran parallel to the village. It was small and quaint, with chickens running free roam and the sound of chopping wood in the background. Clear noted the large smile that adorned Ralof's features as they walked under the wooden gates and into the village, his home.
"A Dragon, I saw a Dragon!" An old woman's voice shouts from the house behind her as Nord and Elf walked though the village.
"What is it now Mother?" Another Nord's voice sounded this one a lot more adolescent than Ralof's deep tones.
"It was as big as the mountain and as black as night! It flew right over the Barrow!" The older woman screeched frantically.
"Dragon's now is it? Please Mother, if you keep on like this everyone in town will think you have gone crazy." The young Nord said.
'Naive fool.' Clear thought to herself and Ralof led her towards the Mill.
A child's shout of: "Uncle Ralof!" broke her thoughts.
A young boy ran up to them and leapt at the Nord besides her shouting, "Can I see your axe?" and "What's Ulfric really like!?"
Ralof let out a hearty laugh and monkey scrubbed the child's messy straw hair.
"Hush now, go and watch the South Road and see if any Imperials come nearby." A sharp female voice said to the boy as Ralof put him down.
"Go now Frodnar, do what your mother says." Ralof ordered, laughing as the child ran off with a shaggy dog that was bigger than him, bounding after him.
Clear turned to study the woman. She was tall and slim with blonde hair and hard features. She was a worker and it was evident on her strong features. It was obvious she and Ralof were siblings; they had the same sky blue eyes, although Gerdur's were darkened somewhat by a glint of un-trust.
"Clear, this is my sister Gerdur." The blonde woman nodded curtly.
"Gerdur, this is Clear, she escaped Helgen with me." Ralof said in a way of introduction, stepping back slightly to see how the women would get on.
"What can you tell me about Riverwood?" Clear began carefully, watching the woman's every reaction.
"It's my mill. Some fella's think it's my town too, but it 'aint. The Jarl of Whiterun owns the land and the town. I just pay the taxes." Gerdur's face seemed to lighten slightly when talking about her home, Clear noted.
"Is there somewhere where I can buy fresh supplies?" The elf asked again, watching the other woman's face sharpen at her question.
"And by 'supplies' I suppose you mean weapons and armour?" Gerdur snapped, but then seemed to calm herself after a pointed look her brother shot her.
"Alvor can help you out, he's our blacksmith. Here's the key to our house, stay as long as you like. If there's anything you need, just let me know." Gerdur said, her age showing though her sky blue eyes. "But what is this all about, what are you two doing here?"
"A dragon attacked Helgen and destroyed it. Ralof and I escaped together." The elf stated softly, carefully measuring Gerdur's reaction.
"A dragon? In Helgen? It can't be...although...it would explain what I saw earlier...flying down the valley from the south...I thought I might have just been seeing things." The blonde woman mused with a frown, more to herself than the two of them.
"It was a dragon, Ralof will tell you the same thing." Said man nodded from behind the elf.
"I don't know why, but I actually believe you. You've got the look of someone who has just seen a dragon. Things just go from bad to worse. First the war and now dragons...what is this world coming to?" Gerdur threw her hands up in despair.
"The Jarl needs to know if there is a dragon on the loose. Riverwood is defenceless...we need to get word to jarl Balgruf in Whiterun, to send whatever troops he can. If you do this for me, I'll be in your debt!" Gerdur said urgently, her eyes boring into the elf's.
Clear nodded her head slightly and the woman visibly relaxed.
Once Gerdur and Ralof had finished catching up, the Nord pulled Clear to the side with a great smile on his face.
"I told you my sister would help us out."
"How do I get to Whiterun from here?" Clear asked, smiling slightly.
"Just head North, you can't miss it. It's the capital of Whiterun hold. Jarl Balgruf still hasn't declared one side or another, so at least you won't have to run into any Imperials along the way." He snickered darkly, but then his features turned sad as he looked down on the elf.
"You're leaving, aren't you." It wasn't a question.
Clear sighed. "Yes, I am."
" Will I ever see you again, little elf?" The man asked in his deep voice, a sad knowing in his eyes. That look broke her heart. Like so many times before.
"Maybe, only the Divines may know, Ralof." She said softly. Clear was never any good at goodbyes.
"You'll come to Windhelm sometime though? To help free Skyrim?" He looked hopefully at her, but she shook her head.
"I have my own battles to fight Ralof, I am sorry."
"Oh, well I'm going to rest up here a bit before returning to Windhelm. Be careful." With one last sad look, Ralof disappeared within his sister's house, leaving Clear alone.
In the end, she was always alone.
That night she disappeared into the wilderness to find a place to sleep, preferring the night sky rather than a thatched roof to sleep under.
The next day she spent some time helping Alvor with the forge and chopping wood for Gerdur. Ralof left in the afternoon. Clear stayed in the shadows and watched him leave.
It was better not to become attached. She had to remind herself.
Finally she made enough coin from Alvor to be able to buy some leather armour from him. Clear was thankful to be rid of the oversized Stormcloak armour and finally laced up in something that was warm. With her blade sharpened and stocked up on Iron arrows, the last thing to do was to trade some pelts she had collected.
Walking into the Riverwood Trader, she was met by raised voices.
"Well one of us has to do something!" A pale skinned, dark haired woman shouted from across the shop.
"I said no! No adventurers, no theatrics, no thief-chasing!" A tanned man with short dark cropped hair shouted back from behind the shop counter, irritation evident on his face.
"Well what are you going to do then, huh? Let's hear it!" The woman screeched back in anger.
"We are done talking about this! Oh, a customer, sorry you had to hear that." The man apologized, shooting a death glare at the woman he was just arguing with.
"My name is Lucan and I own the Riverwood Trader with my sister Camilla here." He gestured towards the dark-haired woman who was still quite evidently fuming.
"Clear." The elf said in a way of introduction. "Did something happen?"
The man, Lucan, grumbled at the question.
"Um, yes...we had a bit of a break in. But still have plenty to sell. Robbers were only after one thing. An ornament, solid gold in the shape of a dragon claw." He said reluctantly, still shooting glares at his sister.
After a moment's thought, Clear answered with, "I could help you get the claw back."
Lucan and Camilla were taken aback for a moment.
"You could? I've got some coin coming in from my last shipment. It's yours if you can bring my claw back. Now, if you're going to get those thieves, you should head to Bleak Falls Barrow, northeast of town." The trader explained excitedly to the small elf.
"No you don't have to go, do you?" Lucan turned and said to his sister smugly.
"Oh really? Well I think your new helper here needs a guide." Camilla stated, equally as smug.
"Wha-no...Oh, by the Eight, fine. But only to the edge of town!" Lucan relented in despair.
"We have to go through town and across the bridge to get to Bleak Falls Barrow. You can see it from here though, the mountain just over the buildings." Camilla chatted happily as she let the elven woman out of the shop and into town.
Clear soon drowned her ranting out. For some reason the elf felt uneasy. She felt trapped, even though she was in the vast open wilderness of Skyrim. Something was still not right.
She longed to be free, like the lone eagle that was passing overhead, casting a shadow upon the snow. She needed to be free.
So she flew.
She ghosted up the mountain side so silent that her enemies did not see her leaping down from a tree branch until her dagger was in their necks.
Red stained white.
Grey filled her vision.
Before her loomed the ancient and beautiful ruins of Bleak Falls Barrow.
Cautiously, the small elf slipped inside the ruins, making sure she was not followed. After embedding two of her arrows in the bandits inside, Clear took the time to study her surroundings. The interior of the Barrow was a massive high ceiling cavern with light shining though in rays from the top. Small snowflakes from outside drifted peacefully down to the ground and Clear held out her hand to catch one.
It was a tiny thing, the snowflake, so fragile and dainty. Clear sighed.
She pushed on.
After solving a series of puzzles, the elf soon found herself in a long corridor filled with suffocating spider webs. She tensed, sword ready, when she heard a voice up ahead of her.
"Is...is someone coming? Is that you Harhnir? Bjorn? Soling?"
Clear rounded a corner to see a skinny looking Altmer entangled in a spider web, eyes wide with a panicked look on his face. Before she could study him further, a pair of pincers were upon her. With one slash of her sword, the spidery best met its demise in a shower of blood and lay still on the snow-covered floor.
"You! Over here!" He shouted. Ever cautious, Clear moved forward slowly.
"You did it, you killed it! Now cut me down before anything else shows up!" The captive demanded, as if he had the upper hand over her. Clear knew his type. He was one of the bandits.
"Where is the Golden Claw?" She asked icily, on guard.
"Yes, the Claw, I know how it works. The Claw, the markings, the door in the Hall of Stories. I know they all fit together! Help me down and I'll show you! You won't believe the power the Nord's have hidden there!" He exclaimed in a persuasive and impatient tone.
"Hand over the Claw first." The crimson elf ordered forcibly, not trusting this stranger one bit.
"Does it look like I can move? You have to cut me down first!" The bandit said sarcastically, and without word, Claire moved forward and severed his binds.
Mistake.
The bandit made a run for it, but Clear's arrows were faster.
'Fool.' The elf thought, stepping over his body to shoot down numerous Draugr, whom she hadn't fought since her days spent in Solstheim what seemed like an age ago.
After taking a sample of some glowing mushrooms that attracted her attention, the elf found herself in what she could only guess was the 'Hall of Stories' the previous bandit was talking about. There was a large stone slab table cluttered with weapons in the centre of the hall with runes and carvings littering the walls all around. But it was the door that caught the elf's attention.
At the end of the hall was a massive circular, solid gold door, with three inner rings and symbols adorning it. At the foot of the door was a dead bandit and upon closer inspection, Clear relieved the Golden Claw from the body's possession.
Now she had a choice. She had the Claw, she had done as asked. She should head back to Riverwood Trader. However, the big, golden, mysterious door intrigued her. Her curiosity was sparked.
'I'm sure Lucan won't mind me borrowing the Claw for an extra few hours.' Clear thought with a smirk as she paired the symbols on the claw to the door.
Bear.
Moth.
Owl.
The door activated and opened up to a new cavern, just as big as the first cavern to the Barrow. A flurry of bats emerged out of the door, forcing Clear to shield her face, but when she dropped her hands, something throbbed inside her.
She doubled over in pain...but it wasn't pain. It didn't hurt as such; it felt almost familiar, as another throb of something coursed through her, clenching her heart, making her ears ring.
The small elf felt herself being drawn to something on the back wall. There were scratch marks, it was blurry...something blue.
The sound of rushing wind echoed in her ears, tangled in her hair...overwhelming her.
FORCE!
The word, its meaning, its potential and its history consumed her whole being. Filling her with the word, with a hazed knowledge of the word, but she did not yet understand it.
All off a sudden the sensation was gone.
Clear rubbed her eyes, shocked. She was the other side of the cavern now, with no memory of walking across. The elf looked at the back wall for the first time properly. It was covered in scratch marks, but not just any old scratch marks, they looked organized – as if they were meant to be there.
Quickly memorizing the patterns to log in her journal later, Clear moved up onto the stone platform before the waterfall.
Suddenly, a sickening crack filled her ears and steel was upon her flesh. Wincing as her blood splashed on the stone ground, Claire quickly parried her foe. It was a larger than normal Draugr, that was garbed in a strange gown and donned a rusting crown. The elf quickly figured that this most likely was not your run of the mill draugr.
Ignoring the pain in her arm, the elf leapt at the thing with a ferocious battle cry, showering it with a flurry of her ebony blade. However, her movements were becoming sluggish and the beast was gaining the upper hand. She had to end the fight quick if she wanted to win.
With one last surge of strength, the small elf leapt once more at the beast and with a fatal stroke, severed head from body.
Clear sank to the floor. Quickly, the elf ripped some fabric off her clothes and expertly wrapped her bloodied arm up to stem the blood flow. Then seconds later, her head collided with the stone.
...
The elf felt awful as she dragged herself down the mountain to Riverwood. She was just plain exhausted and confused with her whole situation. What were these sensations she kept on having? Was it anything to do with the Dragons? Why did every historical event have to involver her...again?
She did not know. What she did know though, was that she picked up a rather odd looking stone tablet with those same strange scratch marks on it before leaving the Barrow. The small elf had a feeling that it may be important to her in the days to come.
Finally, Clear forced herself though the doors of the Trader and composed herself as much as possible.
"I have the Golden Claw." She told the expectant trader, watching his eyes light up in relief.
"You found it? Haha! Strange...it's smaller than I remember. Funny thing, eh?" He sounded nervous, but Clear dismissed it, really not caring at the moment.
"I shall never forget what you have done for me and my sister." Lucan said gratefully as he handed over 400 gold, turning away from her to chat excitedly to his sister.
Clear took this as her queue to leave.
Tired and bloodied, the small crimson haired elf set up camp on the outskirts of Riverwood. After washing in the freezing stream to rid herself of the stench of death and blood, she curled up in her roll with one thought in mind as she drifted off to sleep.
Tomorrow she would head for Whiterun.