And believe me, I am still alive. Doing science and stuff...

Deeply sorry for the delay guys. Life got in the way. I don't think I've ever felt as bad because of school in my life as I've had these last few months. Every single part of my mind that controlled my writing seemed to be frozen solid because of how much I was lagging behind. I'm not joking, sending a simple e-mail took me five days. Five. Days. I'm not even exaggerating.

But now, my Summer break is going strong and I've been on a vacation in Wales for ten days that finally let my mind wind down a bit. Which gave me three nights straight of nightmares, unfortunately. Minding the fact that I don't usually have nightmares more than once every few years, I think that speaks for itself of just how bad I've been feeling lately...

On the plus side, I'm no longer stressed out of my mind and can finally write again. Finally.

And there was much rejoicing.

On a different note, I managed to re-write a large part of the last chapter a while ago, and I gotta say, the improvement is significant. It's all been up and fixed for a few months now so you can read it any time if you haven't already. You might also have noticed that I actually fixed a proper cover picture now. Made from scratch by yours truly! Turned out pretty good if I dare say so myself. Might modify it a bit, though... What say you guys?

Journey of a Lilmothiit
Chapter 5: Rise from the Ashes

There was a noticeable change in the air the next day. The faint smile on Naruto's lips no longer appeared to be as strained as before and Haming seemed to have regained a spark of life, even if he never seemed to voluntarily stray further than a few feet away from his older brother, and while Inorra's eyes had previously seemed dull and lifeless a small spark seemed to have ignited there somewhere. It seemed, somehow, that life was still possible.

Hadvar took a little longer to perk up, but the moment they stepped inside Riverwood and saw the town untouched, it was as if a great weight had lifted from his shoulders. No dragon had attacked his home town. Well, so far, at least. They weren't naïve enough to believe that it would never happen, but at least now they could make sure they'd be prepared if and when it would strike.

The rag-tag quartet stayed with Hadvar's uncle Alvor and his family for the day. After Hadvar had told them what happened, Alvor and his family were quick to offer the small party a place to stay for as long as they wished.

However, Naruto knew that they couldn't afford to stay for long. If one dragon was on the loose, what was there to say that there wasn't more? Even more so since the dragon in question was Alduin. The name itself was menacing enough, but Kurama had actually been in a talkative mood for once in a while, and according to him, that pitch-black menace just so happened to be the king of dragonkind. In addition, it seemed that the dragons were intimately connected to Akatosh (or Alkosh, as Kurama kept calling him) and had therefore souls that existed outside of the bonds of time. This would supposedly mean that they could come back to life, truly come back to life, with the right means.

There was no doubt that if there was anyone who had those means at their disposal, that someone would be Alduin.

In conclusion, dragons were returning full-force, and Naruto felt that the very damn least he could do was to warn people of the coming danger. The young man had intended to head to Whiterun anyway and this simply gave him one more reason to do so.

Despite all this, alerting Whiterun was not quite at the forefront of his mind at this time.

The whole Helgen incident had not only torn up new wounds, but had also dragged up certain issues that he'd honestly been trying to avoid for a rather long time now. Home. He'd just lost one, but what about his other home? What of his real home? What about Konoha? Sure, his training trip wasn't even supposed to be over yet since less than two years had passed so far, but now that he had been forcibly blocked off for an unspecified time, the distance became that much more apparent.

Torolf and his family had given him a new home in Helgen, and it had helped him greatly to cope with his unexpected isolation, but now that that new home had been burned to the ground there wasn't much left to shield him from the pain of being cut off. He missed home, so very, very much. He missed his friends, his old streets, he missed his old sensei. All three of them. He missed his team. His team...

Sasuke...

Well, that damn bastard mucking it all up didn't exactly make it better, did he? Although, he supposed that when it really got down to it, Orochimaru was the one who really mucked it all up. They were this close to get him to open up properly, and then...

Funny. That had been the first time his mind had brought that bastard up in months. Perhaps getting away from it all was doing him some good, in the end.

With a sigh, the young shinobi stood up and walked outside. He really needed to clear his head, this was getting him nowhere.

Meanwhile, Haming was encountering trouble elsewhere. He had encountered two other children in the small village, Frodnar and Dorthe, who had heard of the Helgen incident and in typical childlike curiosity, had been very eager to hear about it all. Since Dorthe was Alvor's daughter she'd heard about the refugees earlier than most and since Haming was the closest to their age, it was only natural that they would ask him for the full story.

They were only children, little kids who couldn't even comprehend just what the now orphaned child had gone through, so how were they to understand how he felt when they begged him to tell them, begged him to reopen so very fresh, so immensely deep emotional wounds? Haming didn't want to. He didn't want to remember the way his mother had screamed in terror as the beast had turned to her, didn't want to remember how his father smiled so sadly at him when he had shielded him from the dragon's flames, didn't want to remember the look of hopelessness on his brother's face when he couldn't do anything to stop it all. Didn't want to remember.

Didn't want to remember at all.

But who could blame Dorthe and Frodnar for being curious? They were children; curiosity was in their nature, and when word was out about an actual, live dragon, what child wouldn't want to hear the story? Better yet, from someone who had been there! To them, it was awesome. Fantastic. Cool. A story. Unreal.

How could they comprehend the pain? The terror and despair? They were just kids.

And so, they kept asking him. Did it breathe fire? Did it have big teeth? What about its claws? How big was it? Did it fly? Did it breathe fire?

It was then that a furry hand grasped his shoulder, but not the one he was used to. Not his brother. It was the cat. Inorra. She gave him a small, sympathetic smile and just told him that his brother was in the study. With a weak but grateful smile he ran off, seeking his brother's soothing presence. He wouldn't disturb, his brother was busy, but right now, he needed familiarity more than anything.

Behind him, Inorra smiled to herself as she begun to tell the kids a rather heavily edited version of the events that occurred the previous day, much to the joy of the little ones. She wasn't usually this friendly with people, but she'd always had a soft spot for kids.

She barely had time to finish her tale before Haming rushed out again, panic shining painfully bright in his eyes.

"He's gone! I- I can't find him!"

Not all effects from Naruto's turning were even nearly as obvious as his more... cosmetic changes. Some were much more subtle. Perhaps the most prominent of these was that he no longer had a headache. It wasn't something he had been actively aware that he had in the first place, but now that it was gone, he couldn't remember a time he hadn't had it there, pulsing in the background.

As with everything else, there was a good reason for this. Like Kurama had been saying from the very start, Naruto's mind had been hard-wired for the body of a Lilmothiit from the very day he'd first been conceived. In layman's terms, this meant that he'd had the brain of a Lilmothiit while the rest of his body had been that of a human. This had naturally led to some grave motorical issues, but also to his constant headache. Why? Because his cranium was the wrong shape.

Now, normally, this would have been lethal or at the very least gravely crippling, but dumb luck was something that had followed Naruto like a lost puppy throughout his entire life. Apparently, the difference in size and shape was just small enough for Naruto not to be permanently crippled, and the rest was taken care of by the ever-handy Uzumaki resilience. The final result was something of the mental equivalent of living your entire life wearing shoes just a single size too small. Not enough to permanently damage your foot, but enough to noticeably hamper your performance. And when you finally get shoes your actual size, you're going to notice the difference.

Now that his cranium finally fit his brain as it should, Naruto found it much easier to focus, to see connections and to draw conclusions. His memory seemed much more easily accessible, too. He didn't just magically 'know' things that he did not before, but he found that what he did know was much more easily available. In short, thinking was no longer a struggle for our young hero. He didn't really know why this was, only that he didn't have that damn headache anymore, and that was enough for him.

In a situation like his, this was very much appreciated, because until the very day before, his first priority had been to find a way to get home as soon as he could, or at the very least contact his sensei, but now he found his priorities... jumbled.

He'd grown attached to this land, he figured. Getting home was still important, and his loyalty still stood firmly with Konoha, so his duty dictated that he should find a way to at least contact the village first and foremost. However, ever since the Helgen incident, as people already had begun to call it, his sense of justice declared that he couldn't go home yet; he had to do something about the dragons first. But what? What could he do?

What should he do? He would alert Whiterun regardless, but what afterwards?

He had to contact his home, of course. That had to come first. He was a soldier. A genin. A private. He was not to make choices, because it was not his place to do so. He wanted to, he wanted to so dearly, but even he had to

follow the code of conduct at times like these...

But this was here. This was now. Dragons were attacking. It was tangible. Reachable. He could act here and now. Contacting home was something abstract, and the process was something unknown, while the dragons were right in front of him, within arm's reach.

Yet even so...

He really needed to get a message through. It went miles against protocol to do something so drastic as fighting an invasion against an obviously superior enemy in a faraway land without at the very damn least informing his superiors. A report, a distress call or at the very least a message just to tell them that he was still alive and relatively well, as well as the situation at hand. But how? He'd already tried summoning the toads, but that didn't work, and all of his sealing equipment had been destroyed in the transfer.

Perhaps the Kelle would give him answers? One of them brought him here, so logically, another would bring him back, right?

And yet, what said that he'd end up on his home world when and if he actually got hold of one? Or for that matter, his time? He knew enough about jikû-kan theory to realise that there were way too many factors involved to just open one of those scrolls and expect to return from whence he came...

Naal sossedov mu fent daal... There was more to this than he knew, he realised, and the dragons were clearly involved, but how? What exactly did they have to do with him?

This whole issue was making him dizzy. The whole situation he'd somehow found himself in was simply overwhelming and Naruto had no idea how to even begin to tackle it. As helpful as Kurama had been in matters of getting back on his feet, that damn Youma clammed up tighter than a miser's purse whenever topics came up that actually mattered. He still knew nothing about the people he supposedly belonged to, why he was here, how the Kel had even brought him here, about the dragons, their sudden appearance and just why the Kyuubi knew this land so well.

Or for that matter, why the subject tortured the fox so.

These questions just gave birth to even more questions. If he was a Lilmothiit by blood, then what of his family? His parents? Had they known? Had they been Lilmothiit as well? Could they... Perhaps... Maybe, possibly, somehow still be alive? Here? In Tamriel? Just maybe?

Of course, that was just wishful thinking on his part, but the possibility was still there, however small...

Lastly, there was the damned black dragon. Alduin. He had not failed to notice that he had spoken the same tongue as he himself seemed to know by instinct. The same tongue as the one written in runes in that ruin where this whole mess started. It seemed that the dragons and the Lilmothiit were connected somehow, but in what way? Was he supposed to feel guilty for what Alduin had done?

Had his arrival in Tamriel had something to do with the dragon's sudden appearance? He prayed that that wasn't the case, but...

Naruto sighed. He still wasn't getting anywhere. He was lost, for the first time in his own mind...

You've got a good head on you, when you decide to use it, but you've got a better heart, remember that. They ever disagree, follow your gut. Listen to your head, but always follow your gut. Always.

...His gut, huh?

Heh. Naruto chuckled to himself. Good old ero-sennin. Old toad was always right, even when he wasn't there. When had he stopped listening? With all that had went down these last few days, he supposed his head's voice had gotten too loud. Not as difficult for it to now, he guessed, with its throat cleared out. Well, then he'd just do that, then, like he usually did. Just like he should have been doing all along.

"Eyes on the target, not the horizon," the teen muttered to himself, grinning slightly. Yeah, that sounded good.

He'd go to Whiterun and alert the Jarl first. Then he'd contact Eorlund and through him, the companions so that he could use their information network to look for any and all information regarding the Dragons and jikû-kan distortions. He had enough money to rent a room for him and Haming for at least a few days until they found a better alternative. If the Companions' information network didn't come up with anything he'd give it a month or two before he'd hitch a cart up to Winterhold and contact the college. If that ended up being a dead end, well, he'd just have to figure that one out then. Long-term planning never worked out well for him anyway.

On that matter, didn't Kurama say that the Dragons were closely linked to Akatosh, and therefore very sensitive to fluctuations in the fabric of space-time? Maybe if he could find a friendly dragon, that might-

A piercingly strong stench of lingering smoke and decay snapped him out of his train of thought with the suddenness of a lightning bolt, making him realize in horror just where his feet had led him. He was back. Back to the place he had fled yesterday.

Helgen.

The embers were still burning.

Anguish gripped Naruto's heart as swiftly as a summer hailstorm and he found himself unable to move, his previous ponderings utterly thrown to the wind. It had been out of habit, he realized. Out of pure damn habit he had walked up that paved slope. Just like he had done yesterday, at this very approximate time. But that time it had been towards a prospering village, just buzzing with life. However, as the smouldering rubble filled his vision, it all felt like a distant dream.

The inn where the local bard only days ago had futilely tried teaching him how to play the lute was now crumbling. The roof was reduced to naught but ash and only a single wall was still standing upright.

The shed in which he'd slept nearly every single night these last three months, not out of inhospitality but simply because of lack of space, was nowhere to be seen. A pile of ash and charred wood was all that was left.

His sensei and benefactor's beloved forge was now reduced to a crumbling ring of stone.

The courtyard where he had sparred with the guardsmen was torn up, the cobblestone crushed and scattered all over the village.

The nooks and crannies where he and Haming used to hide when they played hide-and-seek, crushed under burning logs.

For only three months had he lived here, yet those three months had been filled with so many precious memories. Learning their language, getting to know the people, that one travelling mage who taught him a bit of magic, cracking jokes at how different their cultures were, confusing one social gesture for another... Little things. Precious things.

As the visage of a smouldering corpse entered his vision, the young Lilmothiit realised that he couldn't leave it all like this. There was a time for musings and this wasn't it, for right now, there was something he simply had to do...

Haming wasn't sure what he expected to find when they finally tracked his big brother down, but this certainly wasn't it. When he and Inorra, who had been kind enough to help him, finally caught up to Naruto, the teen fox was crouching in front of what seemed to be a huge, unlit bonfire, hands pressed to the ground. He seemed to be concentrating very hard on something.

It hurt the young Nord to be back. It hurt him so very, very much, and he knew that it hurt his brother too. Why had he gone back? Why would he voluntarily expose himself to this pain?

"A funeral pyre?" came Inorra's purring voice from behind him.

And indeed, when he looked closer, Haming could see human-sized, oblong shapes wrapped in cloth on the top of the stack. A funeral, huh? Haming clenched his fists. His brother was an idiot, doing all of this himself. Didn't he trust him? Didn't Naruto trust him after all they'd been through? It wasn't even his village, for Kyne's sake, so why would the fox shoulder this on his own? No, Haming wouldn't let him.

As the young Nord strode forward with determined steps, Inorra stood back. The white Khajiit knew better than to interfere; this was the boys' issue to deal with. She briefly considered – again – to simply leave them for the wind, but found herself unable to hold the thought for long. Apparently, her heart was already made up, despite her mind's protests.

She watched with a small smile as little Haming ran up to his brother, who had somehow conjured up a large, square slab of rock from the ground, and punched him, before hugging him tight.

Soon, the wood stood alight, flames once again licking at the sky, for the second time in two days. However, this time was different. The flames weren't hungry. The flames didn't destroy. These were guiding flames, delivering the souls of the fallen onwards to the land of the honoured dead. To Sovngarde.

Inorra turned away and walked out of the gates, deciding to leave the brothers alone. She had no place in this moment so she would not even try to intrude upon it.

With a sigh, she pulled out her special stash of thin Moon sugar flakes and a small paper rectangle. She really needed a smoke right now. Most didn't smoke Moon sugar, for numerous reasons, mostly because that variant was a lot harder to come by, but this Khajiit found it worth the extra effort. It made her feel calmer, more focused, closer connected to the moons than the more traditional way of ingesting the substance ever did.

She lit the small cylinder with a minor fire spell and took a deep breath. Indeed, the immunity to the annoying side-effects of the normally crippling drug was likely the single perk of her condition. She ran her fingers through her unnaturally thick mane in slight frustration. That accursed mane.

Yes. That accursed mane of hers, the singular source of her misfortune. If not for it...

Another sigh. Sure, her condition might negate the side-effects of the Sugar, but if not for it, she wouldn't have to smoke in the first place.

She took another, deep puff, letting the mist calm her down. It wouldn't do to keep dwelling on things she couldn't change. But truly, she was weary. Much too tired of this running. She couldn't hide for long either, as her signature mane would just point her out like a bloody lighthouse.

But then, had that not been why she had come to Skyrim? Because she might be able to stay unnoticed in the midst of the civil war?

The chalk-white Mane took a deep breath and turned around, watching the two brothers take farewell to their loved ones. It made her remember the scene she had observed last night, by the White River.

Alive. Yes. Still alive. She was still alive, still surviving, despite the continuous efforts of that damn bag of wasted flesh she once called brother. Still alive, despite the Thalmor nearly succeeding in getting her executed. Still alive. Still surviving.

The Mane that Should Not Be was still alive. The Ghost was not yet exorcized. That thought brought her hope, something she hadn't felt in years.

She still couldn't put her finger on it, but somehow, through some means, in the minuscule time that had passed since they had first met, that odd fox had sparked up that light within her that she long thought dead. Life. Inorra felt alive again. Somehow, she felt like she could actually live again.

Logic still stated that she should ditch the two brothers for the wind, to keep them away from her personal demons, and that fox seemed to have enough problems as it was, and yet... She couldn't. Some part of her heart had found a beacon of hope in the blond Lilmothiit and the rest of it wanted her to follow that beacon. The why was unclear, but Inorra would find it. Eventually. Somehow. After all, Inorra always found what she was looking for.

She could only hope that the civil war and her Illusion skills was enough to keep him and Haming away from the danger-zone until then.

To the faint glow of dying embers and the dancing auroras above, the mismatched trio left Helgen, each with a new sense of determination in their hearts.

Inorra had found a source of hope, even if she wasn't quite certain of the why, but it did make her want to start fighting again. She felt a calling here, in Skyrim, in a certain fox in particular, and Thalmor or Elsweyr be damned, she'd follow that call.

Haming swore that he'd grow stronger. Much stronger. He refused to be a burden to his brother anymore.

Naruto had finally found the determination he was renowned for again. He promised, on his honour, on his dream of being Hokage, that as long as he was still breathing, he'd stop Alduin, repercussions be damned. Helgen would not be repeated. Not if he had anything to say about it.

And then there was Kurama. He had finally found a survivor of the one clan that had been closest to him, after all this time, in his jailer ironically enough, and there was just no way he'd let him die any time soon. But then, he'd already made that decision the moment Naruto had touched that Elder Scroll.

Behind them, illuminated only by the dying embers of the grand funeral pyre there stood a small square rock. Deeply etched upon its surface, stood written the names of every single person who had fallen to that black menace that day.

High above them, the auroras seemed to be smiling down upon them. A new day was on the horizon, and our heroes were finally ready to face it with a grin.

And so, Helgen got its own memorial stone. I felt it was the kind of thing Naruto would do. Arc's done now, and I already started writing chapter five, so the next time will hopefully be very soon. Likely this week, soon. No internet for ten days means a lot of writing gets done, after all.