-Chapter VII- A Revolutionary Start

-Whiterun, Skyrim

-21 First Seed

-8:58 P.M.

-Nicholas

I awoke again with the bright noon sun high in the sky. The warmth of its rays emanating through the stained-glass windows onto my sore body. I felt as though I had just awoken from a deep sleep, with a dream I remembered almost too distinctly and in great detail. I slowly rose to my feet, spreading my arms as far as their reach would allow in either direction to maintain balance. Once I was up again, I began stretching my stiff muscles, hearing the pops and cracks of my bones echo off the walls of the Temple of Kynareth.

I rubbed my eyes of exhaustion and slowly walked to the door leading outside. I placed my hand on my neck to where it had been shot by the mystery arrow, only to find but a scar. I reached my arms in front of me to part the door leading out to Whiterun, and while I did so, I noticed that my arms were back to their normal size, not so bulky, but with a muscle or two on each, just as they had always been rather than the pencil-thin arms before.

I examined my once-again normal appendages up to my shoulders. I looked down at my waist, then my legs. I was completely back to normal. I sighed with a mixture of relief and confusion, then I stepped through the doors as I opened them forcibly with my body weight and submerged myself in the non-obscured brightness of the sun. I looked around as I silently walked though the abandoned Whiterun. It was extremely quiet, with no sounds to be heard. There were no children running about playing either tag or hide-and-seek, on their daily imaginary adventures and fantasies. The sound of meta clashing on metal coming from the blacksmith's hammer repeatedly banging on an anvil was eerily vacant.

I continued to the market square in the Business District of the city, which too lacked the usual sounds of daily activity, mainly consisting of buyers haggling prices with vendors, or salesmen and women with vacant stalls advertising their available wares. The only sounds I could hear were those of my boot heels clicking on the brick-layered path and my unsteady, cautious breathing. I blew of few stray brown hairs from my eyes obscuring my view and continued my search for any sort of life. When I reached the stairs that would take me up to Dragonsreach in the Cloud District, I began hearing a distant, constant, discordant mumbling of multiple voices. The closer I drew to where I assumed the source of the voices was located, the louder they gradually became, confirming my guess.

When I got to a certain point, however, the voices simultaneously hushed, nearly immediately replaced with a single voice, hardy and strong, of the jarl of Whiterun, Vignar Gray-Mane. I couldn't comprehend what his words were exactly, but I understood the sense of urgency behind his words. His voice was one full of worry, as though some disaster had struck, though not immensely great, and he was certainly attempting to calm the citizens of Whiterun, who was the cause of the distant mumbling prior. When finally through my ascendance up the stairs to reveal the grand facade of the castle of Dragonsreach, named so for its past achievements, specifically capturing not one, but two dragons, and trapping them with some sort of contraption on the long balcony leading inside, thus rendering them completely powerless, I found myself standing before the scene.

Standing in front of the large double-doors making up the main entrance to the fortress, was Vignar, speaking to the residents of Whiterun, who were crowded together, watching him intently as he spoke, as though their lives were each individually at stake. At this point, I heard bits and pieces of his speech, and I would've been able to understand it completely had I been paying attention to his words rather than drowning them out with my own thoughts of confusion and wonder. However, my curiosity had a firm grip upon me, and I walked forward towards the mass of voices and faces, most of which weren't familiar to me whatsoever.

The crowd stood before the side of the bridge opposite to the jarl, spreading out around the moat beneath the long, wooden suspended bridge leading to the front doors, reaching near the castle's dungeon. I stood behind the large gathering, peering around people to search for a way in, or, more importantly, someone I recognized, as to learn of the cause of the situation. I couldn't even make out the jarl through the back of the townspeople's' heads.

For a good while I could only pace around the perimeter of the back of the group. Agitated, I blew the stray hairs out of my eyes again once they fell back into place. I scanned the crowd again for a familiar face, a task I found difficult when I could only see their backs. At last I was able to catch only a glimpse of Danica Pure-Spring amongst what felt like a sea of faces.

Finally I gave up on searching for a way through, and instead decided to make a way in. I forced my way through, constantly being pushed back into others. However one thing I found peculiar was the faces of complete and utter surprise from most I passed. When I finally stood by Danica's side, I asked her in a whisper as Vignar continued his speech about the situation at hand. After a moment or two without reply, I turned to ask again.

"What's going on?" I stopped suddenly seeing the look of overwhelming relief across her face. "What?"

Finally my ears decided to tune in on the sounds around me. I noticed Vignar had stopped speaking, and turned my attention away from Danica to find a plethora of confused looks staring back at me with an emotion in their eyes I found hard to read. Vignar however was seemingly confused how he had lost the attention from his listeners, and followed their gazes to where I stood. Our eyes met for only a second, his mouth was agape, and his eyes wide, but these details vanished with a quick shake of his head.

"What is the matter my jarl?" I looked around at the faces that surrounded me, feeling as if they were closing in. "Is there...any way...I may assist?" I asked, not sure what words to speak.

As a reply, Vignar laughed. His loud, hearty chuckles resounded in the air, bouncing off the stone walls that surrounded Whiterun and Dragonsreach, traveling down to the Business District and beyond. He was able to settle himself only for a moment to respond. "I do not think you'd be much assistance, Nicholas. Especially now that, and I believe I speak for everyone here when I say this, our worries have been quenched. Besides, I'd assume it'd be difficult to help in searching for you." I felt like a fool as his laughter arose again. Afterwords I was repeatedly asked the same questions by everyone throughout the gathering of people:

"Where have you been?"

"How has your wound healed?"

"Where did you disappear to?"

None of which, I had an explanation, let alone an answer, to. If I was really gone, completely vanished, that could only mean I was truly on the foreign planet of Polokus, and the adventure wasn't only a dream after all. However I know the truth now in this, I couldn't tell anyone in Whiterun nor Skyrim or else those I told would believe I had lost every bit of my sanity. I swallowed hard as I stood in my place, remaining silent as the asking of the questions grew more persistent.

That night I stayed in the temple to rest, deciding it would be more private than it'd be in Jorrvaskr with the sages, especially with them constantly and pointlessly on my ass about not being the dovahkiin. I sat, slouching over while my elbows rested on my elbows, on the same stone bench I had been using as a resting place the past few days prior to being sent to Polokus, examining the mysterious blue sword, inspecting every detail as I wiped off any neglected black blotches of oil and grease.

So Rayman said he'd be coming to Earth himself before long, but what if he doesn't come? Will it just be proof that I have lost my sanity and that I have been imagining my adventure on the distant planet? Then another thought entered my mind. What if he does come? Will he be mistaken for some sort of foreign invader to attack whoever he comes across or will he be sympathized, and allowed entry to wherever he needs? I sighed in my confusion at the complicated conundrum laid out before me, and my paradoxical thoughts I somehow managed to generate to solve this problem.

I angled my sword so that the moonlight shining through the colored windows reflected off the blade and onto my face. I turned the hilt in my palm so that the tiny glint of blue light hit the ceiling, and I watched entertained as it danced and darted about the room accordingly to my hand's movements. What will people think? What happened that would've sent me to such a place? What the hell did Ly mean by me being "special"? There were so many questions, a great portion of them without the answer I was looking for, seemingly impossible to be found.

I relaxed my hand, allowing it to droop down, while my sword hung loosely barely being held in the air from my light grip to avoid it dropping to the ground about half a meter away from my hand. I suddenly remembered the other items Max had given me after his death. I reached down to the side opposite of the bed from the direction I was sitting to where the box still laid completely untouched since my curiosity-induced search. I removed the pillow from its place at the head of the bed and set it beneath me as I stood.

I knelt down on the pillow on the floor so that the smooth, flat, surface of the worn-down stone was at eye level. I tipped the box over so that the contents spilled on top of the stone surface. Although the moonlight helped reveal the silhouettes of the objects in the room, it was still too dark for my liking. I got back up and investigated the room, scanning the area for something that would be able to do a better job in illuminating the area.

It took me only a few moments to see a candle on a bench parallel to that of mine about a meter and a half away from where I sat, a chunk of flint lying next to it, and a vase containing a large quantity of lavender sprigs. I glided, it seemed in my considerable exhaustion, over to where the candle sat on the second bench and grabbed the flint beside it, then struck the bench with the flint to test it. I smiled in approval as I watched a flurry of sparks fly from the rock. Satisfied with this, I took the candle and a few of the sprigs of lavender and returned to my spot next to my bench.

Again kneeling next to the bench, I struck the flint on the stone, again shooting sparks rapidly in random directions. I caught one or two of the sparks with a lavender sprig, setting fire to it. I then spread the flame to the candlewick, which bobbed and danced about in its place once I had finished and putting me into a trance. My mind wandered back to the discussion earlier between Danica and I before she left me alone an hour or two before. As the room was filled with the soft orange light of the candle, I recollected what she had told me.

"You were gone, the sword was gone, you were still wounded...no one knew what to have thought." Said she.

That must've meant I was really gone, at Polokus. Every part of my physical being was actually on the foreign planet. Through my dreams... I was unable to know what to think then and I was still rendered thoughtless.

I blinked once or twice to focus my mind back to the present. I was still holding the little, although effective, white candle in my hand. I set it on the stone standing upright, allowing the flame's light to smoothly flow across the room as well as the dark box. My eyes grew wide as I reached into the box to pull out the very same strangely shaped rock, only twice its original size. Before I was able to fit it in the palm of my hand, but now it practically required both hands just to lift it. It was much heavier and about the size of my head, which hurt under the strain of attempting to think the conundrum through, so I decided to abandon the thought completely and against my original idea of examining the remaining items that had been given to me through the recent events.

Ever since the recent trip to Polokus, both my mind and body were overcome by extreme fatigue, setting in a strong desire for rest. I blew the same hairs from my eyes before licking my fingers and extinguishing the miniscule flame of the candle, which still stood beside me, between them. I got back up on both feet, which ached from sitting on them, before sliding onto the hard yet somewhat comfortable surface of the bed. I felt my muscles relax and mind grow numb as my eyes grew heavy. Before long I was gradually engulfed by the benign bliss of sleep.

I myself in a secluded field in the darkness of night, my only companion being the essence of solicitation itself. Although I felt somewhat secure, I was also considerably conscientious of my unusual and unfamiliar surroundings. I reluctantly took a step forward, hearing only the grass being crushed beneath my boots, my unsteady breathing, and the occasional cricket. The area was suspiciously quiet, with nary a form of life to be seen other than those of which lived among the grass which layered the ground. It was nearly impossible to see through the veil of darkness that covered the sky, obscuring my view of the distant land and only increasing my uneasiness.

There was a strong tension that clung to the air, and I was unsure of what thoughts were to clutter my mind as I slowly walked through the terrain. A single lunar moth fluttered across my path, paying me no mind as it exited my view nearly as quickly as it had entered. Chills sent down my spine as I heard a feminine cry for help. I started walking in the direction of which I thought the plea came, as the pleas continued, I found my pace converting first into a light jog, then into a full sprint. As I ran, everything began to blur as it flew behind me. In the distance a hazy figure emerged from the darkness that surrounded me.

My eyes didn't leave the foggy yet distinct person that couldn't have been more than 50 meters away. I continued to hear the female cries though not seeming to get any louder, which encouraged me only to go faster. The sound of an arrow whizzing through the air, followed by a piercing sound, rang in my ears. When I at last reached the source of the pleading, I looked around to see the threat, but to no avail, as though the menace that struck fear into the unknown victim that knelt before me. I focused my attention back to the girl, who was sobbing continuously with her face buried in her hands with her back turned to me, otherwise, it was too dark to make out any details of her physical appearance, I could just barely make out her silhouette.

I cautiously crept closer, expecting an ambush from any direction and making sure whatever it was that provoked her really had disappeared. When I was next to her, I lowered my guard seeing as how nothing had attacked me yet. I looked down at her with my utmost pity, although something didn't seem right. Something told me someone was about to attack me from behind. Trying to hurry, I bent over to make sure she wasn't wounded.

The hair on the back of my neck went straight up as her sobbing morphed into a malicious, demented, maniacal laughter. I quickly turned around, thinking something would jump on me, but was then struck in the back, sending me to the ground. I stood back up. My limbs were too confused to do anything else but stand where I was. She, too, stood. I saw a glint of moonlight appear from under the sheets of cloth that served as her clothing. When my body would allow, I backed away from her. Fear bolted through my veins and I turned to run when I saw what it was she had with her. She was armed with a dagger.

I didn't dare look back as I ran, and even if I wanted to stop I couldn't, the adrenaline and supreme desire not to be killed kept me moving at speeds I couldn't have imagined as well as a lack of fatigue overcoming me. As I ran to evade her, her sick laughter still rang in my ears, surrounding me, enclosing me from all directions as it echoed through both the field and my mind. As I continued to speed through the field, I watched in surprise as it began to gradually be overtaken by a numerous amount of trees, indicating the outskirts of a forest.

I heard footsteps fade in from behind me, quicker and more light-footed than mine. For every one of my steps, I heard two of the menace's. I heard twigs and leaves being crushed between both mine and the girl's bare feet right behind me. It wasn't a moment later that before she began to move ahead of me with each of her footsteps practically gliding across the land with a seemingly impossible swiftness. Once she was slightly ahead of me, she stopped herself by drifting through a cloud of dirt, then reached her arm out straight in front of her so that it was in my path.

Though I didn't feel it, everything flashed white when her arm struck me in the chest, knocking the air out of my lungs. The world around me flung forward as I fell backwards and I couldn't so much as reach out my arms to catch myself. However, instead of landing on the ground like I had expected, the sensation of falling never left, as though I had fallen into a never-ending abyss. The world around me went black, and I awoke on the ground in the Temple of Kynareth again.

I was breathing heavily and my forehead was damp with sweat. I sat up in my place on the ground, disoriented and confused as to where I was and what had happened. With trembling fingers, I forced myself to my feet. Dizzy, I thought it better to sit down on the stone bed where I was originally. I situated myself so that I was sitting upright on the bed with my feet on the ground.

I rested my head in my palms, running my fingers though my hair. I sat there for some time, remaining completely still and going over the experience that I just had that was now burnt into my memory over and over in my mind. After awhile of resting in this manner, I took a deep breath, and attempted standing again. At first my exhaustion got the best of me, and I slightly staggered, but I quickly caught myself with a footstep forward in the direction I began to lean towards. Getting a hold of myself, I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and walked around the room to clear my head of the fears that still had a firm hold on me and overwhelmed my conscience.

I looked out the window, unable to see through it to the outside, but still it calmed me somewhat by gazing at the serene, multicolored moonlight beaming in through and reflecting off the dust particles floating about, causing tiny lights to sparkle like lights on a Christmas tree. It was soothing, and I couldn't help but let a grin show. As I laid back down to go back to sleep, I assured myself it was simply a nightmare and nothing else. Then another idea penetrated my thoughts.

Was it?

Polokus was primarily just a dream, but it turned out to be an existing place. Is this the same situation? I thought. The nightmare, something about the nightmare would tell me where this would be, that is, if it really would be real. The first thing that I remembered was that it was in a field. Whenever I closed my eyes, every significant detail of the terrifying scene flashed before me. Amidst my memories still burned into my thoughts, I realized something, or someone, standing in the background when the girl had pulled the dagger. When I thought about what it could be, I couldn't recognize it at first, but eventually I depicted a figure similar to that of a horse. Yes, a tall, black horse standing against the dark background. However, seeing as how this was but a small detail, I put it in the back of my mind.

The next thought that entered my mind was the lunar moth that had flitted by, then quickly realizing lunar moths only appear in Skyrim. My eyes shot open and I froze in the position I lied in. The assassin, I thought, may be in the same country, hell, the same hold... The mere thought struck fear to my entire body as the realization of the situation I found myself in went through my mind. I was being hunted.

I couldn't go back to sleep, even if I wanted to. I ended up lying on the bed, awaiting the remainder of the night to end in complete silence, alone in the dark. The only company I had was that of the fear I had for protection of my life. Although I didn't remember it, at some point during the night I had retrieved the strange stone from Max's box. It was faintly warm, almost comforting. When dawn broke, the bright light of the morning star filtered into the temple, and the light shone across my eyes. The sun's rays turned my black vision into a red one through my forcibly closed eyes in a failed attempt at falling asleep.

There was a heavy weight on my chest, making it significantly difficult to breathe. I opened my eyes, first stung by the multicolored light filling the room. When I removed my hand from where it was to block the intense light so that I could see, my hand was radiating heat from my palm. My other hand I noticed was resting on the rock, which, too, was extremely hot, as though it had been lying in the direct heat of the sun for hours. I lifted the stone off of my chest and carefully placed it on the ground next to where I lied. I ran my fingers over its chiseled features, I could only think that it was an egg, although its origin and what it'd arbor were both mysteries to me.

I didn't care to strain my mind articulating upon the subject, therefore I tried not to, knowing that when I hatched I would know just what creature would emerge from the dense shell. Hopefully, it wouldn't be something that would be delighted to have me for its first meal. The next thing my mind strayed to was the girl in my dream. I had to leave. Not just Whiterun, nor Skyrim, but possibly even all of Tamriel, before she found me. I had made my decision, and I informed Danica of my plan when she came through the heavy doors of the temple. She seemed surprised at first, and yet at the same time, cross.

"You want to leave Skyrim?" She asked in a concerned tone.

"Tamriel," I corrected, "if I can."

"And where, may I ask, would you go even if you did manage to travel through half of the country to the docks of Winterhold? Rune?" She guessed, "America? Equestria-?" I stopped her upon hearing the name.

"There is no way in hell I am going to a god-forsaken country of magical, talking ponies." I said strictly. "I'd rather live on a vacant island like Emerald Hills or Nsanity Isle!"

"How? We are in the middle of Skyrim, if you hadn't noticed. And I doubt its an easy trip to the eastern coast to depart. You've no way of travel."

"I'll travel on foot." I quickly answered simply.

"And if you encounter a Skyrim blizzard?"

"If I stay in the southern regions-"

"-where the Forsworn dwell-"

"-through Riften-"

"-where the Thieves' Guild are based-?"

"-I can handle myself."

"Why are you wanting to leave anyway? There are too many threats throughout Skyrim." She began listing the numerous dangers: "Bandits, Forsworn, assassins, rogue Imperial encampments, stray vampires or mages..." she continued.

I sighed when she finished. I knew I wasn't going to leave until I obtained her approval, so I tried again reasoning with her. "There's no longer any reason for me to stay. I am at least a somewhat skilled swordsman, though I admit I have much to master, I can still protect myself."

She closed her eyes and shook her head, which, through what I did know about her, I assumed that even though she knew I was making a poor decision, she would decide to let me learn my mistake the hard way. After a brief moment with no reply, she sighed, saying, "I guess it's your own decision, I can't stop you...and I don't really don't have any jurisdiction over you." she said with a slight grin.

I smiled brightly, knowing what this meant. She would make no attempt in stopping me and would allow me to follow through with my plans. I couldn't help but hug her, and the next thing I know I was packing what little possessions that I had that mattered to me that would also fit in my satchel, as for the rest I either left in Jorrvaskr, which was nearly everything I owned mainly consisting of all the trinkets and smaller things that I had left on my shelf, or I carried with me. Although there were many things that I desired to bring with me, I thought it smart if I traveled very light, that way if need be I could quickly escape an area and I wouldn't have trouble with stupid things such as making sure I had everything in my possession, and of course the difficulty of ever-encumbering myself would quickly become a very tedious obstacle.

Once I had everything Max had left for me in my satchel, the egg in my hands, and my sword, coin purse, and satchel safely secured on my sword belt, I bid Danica and, though they were still very cross with me, the seven sages farewell, leaving the only town I had truly known as a home and nearly everyone I've ever met, all in one great decision and within one moment, from inside the security of the high stone walls of Whiterun, to the outsides of the gates. The biggest thought running across my mind as the heavy gates were shut behind me was that of whether this was a smart plan to avoid an untimely demise, or an ignorant decision that would spell my fate out in my blood.

It was a unique and strange feeling, being outside the gates, with the sun's rays unobstructed by the walls looming over you as though you were in a prison. Though I never liked them, making me feel as though I was eternally trapped, I understood their purpose. One of which, was a very important one, protecting not only the structures within them, but the innocent people, be them of a kind nature or not, of any sort of troubles that were outside that could harm them in many more ways than one. This protection was no longer given to me, due to my decision to escape the security that I had always interpreted as a cell throughout my childhood and being raised, always wanting to see the other side, not from a high point in the guard towers that overlooked the scenery, but up close, able to reach out and touch that of which I saw. Now that I had this freedom, I knew then the cost, even if it was for a different reason then than it was now.

I still weighed the consequences, and found myself still more glad to be able to prove myself, just as I had planned to before Max's death. My pride, was the cause of my lifetime friend, only proving the biblical quote: "Pride cometh before the fall"...only I wasn't the one had to pay the fee of my stupidity. I pushed the thoughts that still loomed over me away from myself, hoping to keep the memories of the recent events as far away from me as possible, and focused again on the present, keeping my conscience on the joy that I felt of my freedom, albeit only a mask that desperately tried to cover up the fear that was so deeply entwined within my soul.

I took a deep breath, bracing myself for the journey that I knew lied before me, and looked down at the egg that was at my waist, admiring the unique way the sunlight reflected off of its coal-black surface. I had now no idea of what I was to do next, other than head directly east and that I was leaving everything I had ever known to exist behind my in a single decision that has directed me to a new course of fate, one that I didn't know the other end to. My past would forever be in my memories, each day becoming more and more shrouded in the haze that was time, now with a fresh slate to live from.

I turned east toward Riften, purposely straying slightly to the south, as to avoid any unwanted encounters with the frozen northern Skyrim tundra, as well as as little snow as possible. I began to think about what I'd do once I reached the docks, possibly travel to America...what I'd do then, I had no clue. Prior to this, however, the plan was simple: survive making way to the eastern shore and follow the sea-line northwards to Windhelm, where I'd locate the docks that were just on the outskirts of the city, which, too, I believed to be surrounded by walls, just as the capital of the Earth Kingdom, Ba Sing Se, was. If I could find a sailor from there that would be willing to sail me the United States of America, I would continue adding to the plot from there.

The only complication that stood in the way was the feminine rogue out for my life and the possibility that was still very much real of accidentally coming across her. I looked down as I walked, watching my feet move me forward, swinging back and forth as if moving the land itself behind me. I looked up, then quickly looked back at Whiterun, that, though not quite a distance away, still loomed over me on the small hill that it was built upon. I turned forward again to continue my journey ahead. For now, I should concentrate only on getting to Windhelm alive, then worry about what I was to do once I arrived.

After spending a great portion of the day walking without rest, I decided to build a small campfire and establish my campsite once the sun was behind me, illuminating the vacant landscape around me in a bright-orange tint. When I noticed my shadow standing before me with a tall and thin stature that slightly resembled my own, I realized just how late it had become.

As the smoke began spitting from the stick I had carved a small crater into with the knife that Max had left for me and the second stick that I had been repeatedly rotating with my hands, I gently blew on it as to give air. After a few failed attempts at igniting the fire and set flames, a flame at last sputtered from the dry wood, slowly growing and engulfing the charring the stick beneath its grasp as it crawled over its victim. When it was of suitable size, I slid it under a pile of thin sticks that I had previously prepared from a small grove I had come across prior.

The flame reached up to graze upon the dead wood, then took hold of it. Soon it was big enough for wood larger than just kindling. I built up the fire to a size that gave off a strong warmth and well lit the surrounding area, then rolled a nearby sturdy log not yet hollowed out by termites next to the firelight. After shaving off the bark, dirt, grass and other things clinging to it with my sword, I promptly sat down to rest my feet, heaving the air out of my lungs as I did and rubbed my sore heels and calves. The warmth was graciously received, and the bouncing and bobbing of the light was relaxing as the fire danced before me. I hung my satchel on a small stub sticking out of the log and and lied along it. My breathing slowed as calmness washed over me.

I reached into my satchel and pulled out a tepid, semi-stale sweet roll. Its snow-white glaze glistened in the firelight and its soft texture caved in beneath the grip of each of my fingers that grasped the baked good. When I took a bite out of it, the bread melted in my mouth into a sticky, sweet liquid that coated my tongue. Once about half of it was gone, I placed it back where it had been, wrapped in a roll of paper. I turned so that I was facing away from the intense heat of the flickering flames to keep a watchful eye to the darkness of the night. The last thing I remember before drifting into the gentle hold of sleep was the fire's warmth lightly stroking my back.