Unbound
I was falling slowly through darkness. It pressed on my eyes and I could feel a cold wind, one that threatened snow, rushing past my face. The only thing I could hear was my own panicked breathing as my heart thudded faster and faster. Where was I? Why couldn't I see? Was I blind? No, light was creeping in at the edges of my vision, a dull grey getting brighter by the moment. Then I started to feel things too, rough fabric against my chest and belly, something tight and painful digging into my wrists, a hard surface under me. And then came a rocking, swaying motion, and the sound of horses, hooves clip-clopping on cobbles and the jingling of harnesses. And there were low voices, men. I blinked and my vision became clearer. I was riding in the back of a cart through dense pine trees.
"Hey, you're finally awake."
I jerked violently at the voice and looked around with wild eyes. Three men sat with me in the cart, all of them bound at the wrists like me. The one who'd spoken, a burly man sitting opposite me with shoulder-length blond hair and a straggly beard, raised his hands and spoke soothingly.
"Hey now, don't panic. Just take a breath."
I tried with all my might to calm down, taking great gulps of chilling air whilst I shook all over.
"What's happening? Where am I?" I asked and my voice came in a rasp, like I hadn't used it in a while.
The man opposite me kept his hands up in that peaceful gesture, even though they were bound.
"You were trying to cross the border right? Walked right into that Imperial ambush, same as us and that thief over there."
The man on his left, a pinch-faced fellow with dirt on his cheeks, snorted.
"Damn you Stormcloaks. Skyrim was fine until you came along. Empire was nice and lazy. If they hadn't been looking for you, I could have stolen that horse and be halfway to Hammerfell by now."
He looked at me with watery eyes.
"You there, you and me, we shouldn't be here. It's these Stormcloaks the Empire wants."
These men who used words I didn't understand, Stormcloak, Skyrim, Hammerfell, were doing nothing to ease my confusion. I tried prying the bonds around my hands open with my teeth but they were so tight I doubted anything short of a sharp blade do.
"We're all brothers and sisters in arms now, horse thief," said the blonde man calmly.
"Shut up back there!"
That came from the cart driver and made me jump again. Now that I had a proper look around I could see that he and the other men on horseback were clad in leather and steel armour with red sashes. My blond companion however was all in blue, without a helmet or bracers.
"What's wrong with him?" asked the thief. I looked away from the soldiers to see the thief nod at the man next to me, whom I hadn't paid much attention to yet. A pale man around his mid-forties, with a heavy fur lined cloak, and a gag over his mouth.
"Watch your tongue," the blond man snapped. "You're speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King!"
The thief's face went pale as snow.
"Ulfric Stormcloak?" he croaked. "You're the leader of the rebellion. But if they've captured you...oh gods, where are they taking us?"
"I don't know where we're going. But Sovengard awaits," said the blond man. The thief was breathing as quickly as I was now, his eyes darting all over like a cornered animal.
"No, this can't be happening, it can't be happening!"
"Hey, what village are you from thief?" asked the blond man, now gentle again.
"Why do you care?" the thief shot back.
"A Nord's last thoughts should be of home."
The thief's mouth twisted and his eyes filled with tears. Then he muttered,
"Rorikstead. I'm from Rorikstead."
"And you lass?"
This was directed at me and I opened my mouth to answer, but no sound came out. When I tried to picture a home, a family, anything at all, the black mist rolled across my mind and left me fumbling for purchase.
"I – I don't know, I don't remember."
I felt tears prick my eyes too whilst the blond man looked at me with sympathy.
"They must have konked your head pretty bad then."
The chatter amongst the soldiers had increased and I saw we were approaching a wooden wall with a large gate. Over this I spotted the roofs of houses and a large stone tower. A soldier on the walkway called down.
"General Tullius, sir. The headsman is waiting."
"Good, let's get this over with," said a gruff voice at the head of the column.
As the gates opened the speaker veered off to the right so I got a proper look at him. He certainly had the bearing of a military man atop his dappled brown and white horse. His grey hairs and tough, lined face spoke of experience. He began speaking to another group of people on horseback, all in golden armour or dark robes, but our cart pulled past before I could catch the words.
"Look at him, General Tullius, the military governor," the blond man sneered. "And it looks like the Thalmor are with him. Damn elves. I bet they had something to do with this."
"Who are they?" I asked. My stomach had twisted into knots when the soldier had said 'headsman'.
"Killers," the blond man muttered darkly. "Agents from the Summerset Isles, sent to root out Talos worshippers, to torture and kill our kinsmen, and they have the Empire in their pockets."
He lifted his head and gazed around at the houses. His expression softened until he looked wistful.
"This is Helgen," he sighed. "I used to be sweet on a girl here. Wonder if Vilod is still making that mead with the juniper berries mixed in. Funny, when I was a boy, Imperial walls made me feel so safe."
Many of the townsfolk had emerged from their homes to watch us pass. Most looked fearful, some angry. One little boy came rushing forward, his face aglow with excitement.
"Who are they daddy? Where are they going?"
The boy's father eyed the carts wearily and gave his son a little push.
"You need to go inside the house, little cub."
"Why? I want to watch the soldiers."
"Inside the house. Now."
The boy's shoulders slumped.
"Yes, papa," he grumbled and turned toward a door where an anxious woman stood waiting.
The driver of our cart pulled on the reigns and whoaed the horses until we trundled to a halt. A sharp faced woman in elaborate armour got down from her mount.
"Get these prisoners out of the carts. Move it!" she barked.
"Why are we stopping?" the thief asked in a quivering voice.
"Why do you think?" the blond man sighed. "End of the line. Let's go, shouldn't keep the gods waiting for us."
"No, wait! I'm not a rebel!" the thief cried as a soldier yanked him down from the cart.
"Face your death with a little courage thief."
"You have to tell them, I wasn't with you, this is a mistake!" the thief whimpered.
The rest of us were encouraged at sword point to disembark and I stumbled into the blond man when my legs gave out beneath me. I'd clearly been in that cart a long time. A soldier hauled me up under the arm and I noticed for the first time I wasn't even wearing proper clothes, just a rough-spun sack with a cord around the middle and no shoes. I shivered in the freezing air as the captain called,
"Step towards the block when we call your name. One at a time!"
"Empire loves its damn lists," the blond man said, rolling his eyes. A soldier unrolled a piece of parchment and began to read.
"Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm."
The gagged man walked with a straight back and fierce glare towards a wooden block on the ground before the stone tower. The sight of it and the hooded man with a wicked axe sent my heart into a frenzy.
"Ralof of Riverwood."
The blond man stepped away, not before giving me a last, kind look.
"Steady now, it'll be over soon."
"Lokir of Rorikstead."
The thief was now thrashing like a mad thing against the soldiers who tried to keep him still.
"No, I'm not a rebel! You can't do this!"
He managed to rip himself away from the soldiers and ran towards the town gate, hands still bound. "You're not going to kill me!"
The captain shouted at him to halt but he ignored her and kept running. He's going to make it, I thought, keep going, don't stop!
The arrow that thudded into Lokir's back and punched out of his chest with a spurt of blood made all the breath leave my lungs. I nearly collapsed again as my legs quaked. I could see the archer who'd landed the blow being patted on the back by his companion, they were smiling, making some comment. They shot him in the back, I thought with horror, they shot him and laughed. Who are these people?
"Anyone else feel like running?" the captain snapped, her eyes lingering on me.
I cringed and ducked my head so I wouldn't have to look at her. The soldier with the list had his face set in a neutral mask but he frowned slightly as he looked between me and the parchment.
"Wait, you there, step forward. Who are you?"
I took a tiny step towards him, trembling.
"I need to know who you are," the soldier said when I said nothing. "You're – what? A Nord? Breton?"
I didn't know what he meant and I felt like if I opened my mouth to explain that I might throw up.
He took my silence as insolence and his frown deepened.
"Very well, I at least need your name."
A name? I groped feebly in my mind for something, any memory. I had to at least have a name. He was growing impatient and then it came like sunlight shafting through darkness.
"Lyra!" I said, my voice still strangled. "My name, it's Lyra."
He ran his eye down the list again.
"Captain, what should we do? She isn't on the list."
Hope blossomed in my chest and I sucked in a breath, only for it to be stomped on a moment later.
"Forget the list, she goes to the block."
The captain's words were cold as steel. The soldier pressed his lips together but bowed his head.
"By your orders, Captain. Follow the Captain prisoner."
Someone jabbed me in the middle of my back and I stumbled to join the other prisoners on legs that felt like jelly. No, no, no, this was all wrong! I didn't even know why I was here! The general was there and he addressed himself coldly to the man called Ulfric Stormcloak, who despite his gag and bound hands, stood like a proud king.
"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 gave an angry grunt through the gag and glared at the general with pure loathing.
"You started this war," Tullius continued, his voice rising slightly in anger. "Plunged Skyrim into chaos. Now the Empire has come to put you down and restore the peace."
Then I heard a sound that set my very bones to quivering. A roar, distant, but terrible, echoing off the walls of the town. Others heard it too and heads turned to the sky.
"What was that?" the soldier with the list asked. Tullius stared up at the sky a few moments longer, his eyes narrowed, then he shook his head.
"It's nothing, carry on."
A woman in a yellow robe stepped forward and raised her hands. As she began reciting a prayer I glanced around at everyone in astonishment. How could they dismiss that sound as nothing? Did no one else feel it still reverberating in their chests? Did they not understand, as I did, that whatever it was was challenging us all to a battle
"Something's coming," I whispered, so quietly that only Ralof heard me. He glanced down, his brow creased.
"As we commend your souls to Aetherius, blessings of the eight Divines upon you, for you are the salt and earth of Nirn, our beloved –"
"For the love of Talos shut up and let's get this over with!" interrupted one of the Stormcloak rebels, striding forward and kneeling at the block without a trace of fear. The priestess, for that was what I assumed she was, scowled.
"As you wish," she said frostily. She stepped back and made room for the headsman to lift his axe. The Stormcloak glared defiantly at his captors.
"My ancestors are smiling at me Imperials. Can you say the same?"
As the blade came singing down I screwed up my eyes and turned away. I gave a whimper as I heard a sickening thud.
"As fearless in death as he was in life," Ralof sighed. Some of the onlookers were jeering but I didn't hear their words because the next thing the captain said captured my whole attention.
"Next, the Breton."
I opened my eyes and saw her pointing at me. Utter panic gripped my throat.
"No, please! You don't understand, I didn't do anything!"
Two soldiers grabbed my arms and dragged me towards the block though I dug my heels in and struggled.
"What did I do?! Please, I don't remember anything! Please, don't!"
They kicked my knees out from under me and forced me to kneel. The block was soaked in the last prisoner's blood and I grimaced as I felt it on my neck. I saw the executioner raise his axe again but my eyes went past him.
Look at the sky, don't look at them, let the sky be the last thing I see.
Then it came again, that roar, closer than before. And this time I could hear the rush of giant wings.
"There it is again, something's coming," muttered one of the soldiers.
"Sentries, what do you see?" barked General Tullius. I didn't know about the sentries, but what I saw made my heart stop. A black, winged creature swooped around the side of the mountain and disappeared from my view behind the tower. There were shouts from the sentries.
"It's in the clouds!"
"What in Oblivion is that?"
Then there were screams as the creature appeared again and landed on the tower with a mighty crash. It had a long, lizard-like neck, a vicious spiked tail, and wings as wide as it was long. The scales all along its body were black as coal and its eyes burned yellow like fire.
"DRAGON!" screamed one of the Stormcloaks.
I couldn't move. I wanted to, desperately, but my limbs wouldn't obey me I was so paralysed by fear. The dragon surveyed the scene before it, its evil eyes sliding disinterestedly over me kneeling at the block. Then it opened its mouth, revealing inch long fangs, and roared again. The sky darkened, clouds rolled in in a matter seconds and then fire began to reign down, making the ground shake violently. The dragon then shouted something, words of some kind.
"Fus-Ro-Dah!"
The executioner, the Stormcloaks and soldiers were all blow off their feet even I was knocked clean away from the block and landed a few feet hence, flat on my back and totally winded. Fireballs still fell all around me and I didn't get a chance to lie there for long before someone was yanking me to my feet.
"Come on lass, no time to take nap," said Ralof, his eyes wide with fear. Behind us I heard General Tullius shout,
"Don't just stand there! Kill that thing. Guards, get these townspeople to safety!"
Ralof grabbed my forearm and ran with me towards the tower. The dragon had taken to the sky and flew in a wide ark around the town. Arrows glanced off its scales like rain off rock.
"Shor's bones, what is this thing?!"
"Gods, nothing kills it!"
I practically fell over the threshold of the tower so eager I was to get under cover. Ralof slammed the door behind me and we paused to catch our breaths.
"Jarl Ulfric, what is that thing? Could the legends be true?" Ralof panted.
"Legends don't burn down villages," noted Ulfric dryly. I noted he had somehow rid himself of the bonds and gag, though his fur cloak was singed. Two Stormcloaks lay on the floor behind him, obviously injured judging by the bloody rags they held to their legs and stomachs.
"They'll live," Ulfric said, seeing me looking. "But right now we have to move."
Ralof put a hand on my shoulder.
"Come on, up through the tower."
I couldn't see how going up would help but I was too shocked to think of a better course of action. With my hands bound I was off-balanced and I struggled on the steps. On the first floor landing I stumbled and it was this that probably saved my life. The wall next to the steps above me cracked open, masonry flying everywhere, and the dragon stuck his maw through the gap.
"Get down!" Ralof cried, throwing an arm over my head as fire poured from the monster's mouth. Then it was gone in a whirl of smoke. I coughed and blinked as my eyes stung. Ralof was leaning through the hole and gestured me forward.
"See the inn on the other side? Jump through the roof, I'll catch up to you when I can."
I gaped at the gap. It was a good ten feet, probably more, and the thatch of inn's roof was smouldering. I cringed back.
"I can't," I cried and Ralof gripped my shoulder tightly.
"Yes, you can. You can. Now, jump!"
I screwed up my courage and leapt from the broken tower. I landed awkwardly, twisting my ankle beneath me, but had somehow managed to avoid catching fire. Ralof cheered.
"At a girl! Keep going! Don't stop for anything!"
I don't know how I managed to find my way in the thick smoke billowing all around me. I thought I was heading for the stairs but instead I fell through a hole in the floor to the ground below. I grunted in pain but did as Ralof said, I kept going, ignoring the stabbing in my ankles and knees. I found myself outside and was able to get a fresh breath of air. Right in front of me was the soldier with the list. He had his sword drawn and his back to me as he beckoned a terrified boy forward.
"Haming! You need to get over here right away. Good boy!"
The boy sprinted across the open ground and his father came after him. Then I saw the dark shape looming over head.
"Look out!" I screamed, but it was too late.
"Yol-Tor-Shul!"
An inferno burst forth. The boy cleared it, the solider yanked him to safety, but the father was incinerated to a blackened husk in seconds. My stomach turned at the sight and smell but I swallowed hard and forced myself not to vomit. The soldier pushed the boy towards an old man who was waiting with open arms. Then he caught sight of me.
"Still alive prisoner? Stick with me of you want to stay that way. Gunnar! Take care of the boy, I have to find General Tullius and join the defence."
"Gods guide you Hadvar," the old man growled, clutching the terrified boy to his side.
I didn't really want to follow a man who'd blithely pushed me towards the execution block, just minutes before, but with the town burning around me there wasn't anywhere else to go. I could hear screams from people trapped inside collapsed buildings and the twang of bow strings as archers tried desperately to land a hit on the dragon. Hadvar led me down the side of a building but then he yelled,
"Stay close to the wall!"
I pressed my back to the stonework as the dragon's claw came down two feet from my face. It had landed on the roof above us. It was so close I could have reached out and touched its wing. Then it took off again and Hadvar yanked me forward.
"Head for the keep, it has lower levels we can shelter in," he said.
A group of soldiers stood between us and the stone building he indicated. Most had bows but one dressed in dark blue robes raised both hands to the sky as the dragon flew closer. Mist formed about her palms and then crystallised. I watched in shock and awe as foot long spikes of ice flew from the woman's hands and struck the dragon's flank. It roared in anger.
"Doesn't like magic it seems," Hadvar commented. "Come on!"
We were almost at the keep when a figure ran out from behind some rubble and headed for a side door. It was Ralof, and he skidded to a halt at the sight of us.
"Ralof! You damned traitor, out of my way!" Hadvar snarled. Ralof's jaw was set.
"We're escaping, Hadvar. You're not stopping us this time."
"Fine, I hope that dragon takes you all the Sovengard!"
Hadvar ran on and Ralof beckoned to me.
"Come on, lass. Nearly there!"
I followed him to the side door but as he disappeared through it, I looked back one more time at the devastation. The dragon emerged out of the smoke and spoke words I didn't understand.
"Hin sil fen nahkip bahloki!"
It then grabbed a legionnaire in its jaws and tossed him in the air like a rag doll. The body landed with a crunch just five feet from me.
"Lass, stop dawdling and get in here now!" Ralof shouted.
I didn't need telling twice, I threw myself inside and kicked the door shut. Ralof and I didn't say or do anything for nearly a full minute. I sat down and concentrated on breathing slowly and steady. My heart still felt like it was trying to beat its way to freedom and my limbs trembled badly.
"So, Lyra was it?" Ralof asked weakly and I nodded.
"I think so," I sighed.
"You think?" he repeated and I shrugged.
"I'm not sure. I told you, I don't remember anything. But that name is in my head so I think it must be mine."
Ralof shook his head and drew his dagger.
"That must have been one hell of a knock you took. Stand up, I'll get those bonds off."
As he worried at the ropes I took a proper look around the circular stone room we were in. Passageways led left and right but both were blocked by iron gates. Opposite the door there was a body lying on its side, a Stormcloak judging by the blue sash. I swallowed and looked away. I'd seen enough death in the last few minutes to last me a lifetime.
"Poor Gunjar," Ralof shook his head. "May your path to Sovergard be easy, friend."
When the bonds fell away I rubbed my sore wrists with a grimace. They'd scraped the skin raw. Ralof examined both gates and cursed.
"Damn it, both locked. Well, we might as well make use of this equipment. Come and help me with it."
My eyes went wide as Ralof knelt by the corpse and began undoing the straps on the armour.
"I can't wear that!" I squeaked.
"Gunjar won't be needing it any more. I promise you he wouldn't have minded. Now come on, don't be squeamish. You don't want a sword in your belly."
Reluctantly, I knelt and helped him remove the bits of armour. Ralof showed me how to clip the breast plate and grieves into place and I pulled on the helmet and boots with trepidation.
"Wish I had some trousers," I mumbled. The sack-dress barely reached my knees so I felt terribly exposed.
"Gunjar's would fall right off you lass, he was a big man," Ralof pointed out. That was true enough, the breastplate wasn't secure at all, it chafed and shifted uncomfortably as I walked. Ralof handed me his comrade's fallen sword.
"Uh, I don't really know what to do with this," I stuttered. Ralof stood back and demonstrated.
"Hold it like this, and angle your body like this. That's it, feet a bit further apart. If we run into trouble stay behind me and if it comes down to it, stick them with the sharp end."
At that precise moment we heard voices approaching down the passage from the left. I glanced at Ralof in alarm and he gestured for me to hide on one side of the gate whilst he stood ready at the other.
"Where the hell did that monster come from?" said a woman's voice.
"I don't know," said another, a man. "Hey, you don't think those damn Stormcloaks had something to do with it?"
"Gods, if they've got a monster like that on their side we are all dead meat," the woman groaned.
"I'd like to run those goat-shagging scum through," growled the man. I saw shadows fall on the floor and a key scraped in the lock. The gate opened and the two Imperial soldiers walked out.
Ralof gave a savage cry and brought his axe down on the man's head. He buckled and blood spurted from the deep cut. I tried to knock the other solider out with the pommel of my sword but the blow wasn't strong enough. The woman shrugged it off and turned on me with her blade ready. Her companion, though blood was pouring down the side of his face, was locked in fierce combat with Ralof.
"Treacherous scum!" the woman screeched as she slashed at me. I yelped and danced out of the way, waving my own weapon clumsily. She took a few more swipes and instinctively I lifted my free hand. In my mind I simply thought – fire – and to my astonishment a tongue of flame lashed out and struck the woman in the chest. She went down with a grunt and did not get back up again. The flash of light distracted her companion long enough for Ralof to dispatch him with a slash across the neck.
"So, you're a mage? Figures, you being a Breton and all," Ralof panted, cleaning his blade on the dead soldier's tunic. I stared between my palm, which was still smoking, and the woman I had killed.
"I – I didn't know I could do that," I whispered. I tore my eyes away from the woman's burnt face and shuddered. So that was how it felt to take a life. The urge to vomit was back. Ralof seemed to understand.
"They would have killed you, lass, make no mistake. You don't have to like killing, but I trust you understand it's necessary sometimes."
I swallowed and nodded. Focus on surviving this madness, then you can get upset, I told myself. Ralof quickly riffled through the soldier's pockets and found the keys that would open the right hand gate, as well as a pouch containing about a dozen gold coins.
"Here, might come in handy once we get out of here," he said, tossing the bag to me.
Once through the door we followed a wide set of steps that curved down into the rock. About halfway down we heard the clashing of steel and shouting ahead. Ralof nodded to me and we proceeded cautiously, swords drawn. Through an open door at the bottom we saw a Stormcloak run through by an Imperial soldier. Ralof charged in with a roar of rage and cut the soldier's head clean off. I spotted another further into the room and let off a blast of fire again which brought him down.
"Quick reflexes," said Ralof approvingly. "Looks like there might be potion bottles in here, take a look around but don't dawdle. We need to move on quickly."
This room was clearly a kitchen. There was a large fireplace with a spit and the table was covered in flour stains and potato peels. I peered at the shelves along the back wall and found three bottles, two held red liquid and the other blue. The labels said they were potions of healing and magicka respectively. Ralof had also found potions in a barrel and he stashed them in his backpack.
"Come on, we've got to find a way out."
There was another door through the storage area which led to a dank corridor. After we'd walked halfway down however the walls shook and we heard a muffled roar. Ralof shoved me forward just in time to avoid being crushed as the ceiling caved in.
"That dragon doesn't give up," I coughed in the dust that was kicked up. "Are there lots of those things around here?"
Ralof helped me to my feet.
"Are you kidding? Dragons have been extinct for thousands of years! They used to rule Skyrim but the ancient Nords rose up against them and killed every last one. I have no idea where that beast came from."
A noise pricked my ears and I squinted further down the corridor.
"There are people up ahead," I whispered and Ralof cocked his head to listen.
"You're right, let's go but be careful."
We crept along the corridor until it came to a turn and then opened into a large room. Ralof and I stayed at the corner and peered inside. A horrible sight met my eyes. In the middle of the room there was a table with a half naked man strapped to it. Blood puddled on the floor and I could tell from how still he was, he must be dead. Two others stood in the room, an Imperial soldier in armour and a small, weedy man in black cloth. He was wiping a scalpel clean.
"What is this nonsense?" the small man asked in a bored voice.
"A dragon you fool! I said a dragon is attacking up above! Can't you hear the noise?"
"This one was screaming far too loudly for me to hear much of anything," the small man shrugged. "And have you been at the mead? A dragon! How ridiculous."
Anger burned in my chest as I looked at the body of the man on the table. The torturer didn't have a trace of remorse in his voice. I raised my fist and without thinking blasted fire across the room. It caught the torturer by surprise and he yelled as his robe caught alight. Ralof and I charged in once more and dispatched the soldier before he could react. The torturer was now rolling on the floor and I ended his misery with a sword to the back of the head.
"Somehow I don't feel so bad about killing this one," I muttered, kicking the body. Ralof looked at it in disgust too then shook head over the corpse on the table.
"Poor bastard, come on, let's grab what we can and get moving."
"We're just going to leave him here?" I asked. "Shouldn't we bury him?"
"Your heart's in the right place lass, but there's no time. I'm sure he'd understand."
I chewed my lip and my shoulders slumped.
"I guess you're right, but, let's untie him at least. Give him some dignity."
I took a knife from the dead soldier and cut the leather straps binding the corpse to the table. I also threw a sack over him and drew it over his head.
"May your road lead you to – uh, what did you say before? Soven..."
"Sovngarde," said Ralof. "It is where Nords go when we die an honourable death."
"Have a swift journey to Sovngarde," I finished.
There were plenty of over things to scavenge in the room. The torturer and the soldier both had gold coins in their pouches and a better sword was found on a side table. I peered into a cage against the far wall. There was a body inside, wearing a knee length robe with a blue sash. There was a book lying beside it. I tried to door but it was locked.
"Here," said Ralof as he saw me grope for the book through the bars. "Found them over there, give them a try."
He handed me a set of metal picks.
"Lock picks?" I asked sceptically. "Well, I guess I could try."
As it turned out, it wasn't a difficult lock to turn. It was just case of raising the tumbler and then turning the mechanism. The door opened with a satisfying click.
"What do we have here then?" I mused as I turned the book over in my hands. "It feels – warm – like the sun has been on it."
"That's a spell book," Ralof exclaimed. "Mages inscribe them with the power to impart knowledge. Very valuable and very useful, if you've got the aptitude."
So into the pack the book went. We then moved on down yet another corridor until we emerged into a large open space. There were walkways spanning water and grates in the walls and ceilings. The smell alone told me it was a cistern. I was about to walk across when an arrow came whistling past. It missed my face by inches and struck the wall.
"Get back!" Ralof cried and threw out an arm to protect me.
We'd walked into a battle. About a dozen people were fighting tooth and nail all around the room whilst archers traded pot shots.
"We'll have to run, head for that door at the far end!" Ralof instructed. We sprinted past warring Stormcloaks and Imperials. Two crossbowmen stepped in front of me and blocked the door. As they raised their weapons I dove behind a pillar for cover. I clenched my fist, ready to cast a fire spell again, when I noticed a puddle of glistening oil on the floor. A lamp must have broken and spilled its contents. The trail led to the crossbowmen who were hurrying to reload. I blasted the oil and the two men lit up like candles.
Ralof ran past and grabbed my hand.
"Come on through the door!"
We pelted across the room, jumped over the bodies of the archers and were through the door just in time for the whole place to shake again. Rocks came tumbling down and blocked the way back.
"Can't see a damn thing," Ralof muttered. It was pitch black and I crawled around the floor trying to feel my way. There was natural uncut rock under my hands and I could hear water nearby.
"I've got a torch, think you can light it for me?" asked Ralof. His voice echoed in the blackness. I got carefully to my feet and groped around until I found Ralof's elbow and then the torch.
"Flames," I whispered and with a hiss, the torch caught. I blew on the spark until it grew and shed light.
We were in a cave with an underground stream skittering downhill.
"Must be an old siege tunnel," said Ralof. "Let's see where it goes."
We followed the stream as it wound its way through the rock. The floor was uneven and slick with algae and twice I lost my footing. By the time we found higher, dryer ground my boots were filled with water. The new path wasn't much better though. I reached out a hand to steady myself on the wall and found –
"Urgh!" I cried, withdrawing my hand and wiping it on my clothes. "What is it?"
Ralof peered at the white, sticky substance. Now that I looked, I saw all the walls and ceiling were covered in it.
"It looks like..." Ralof began but he never finished as a black, hairy mass dropped from the ceiling and landed on his head. At the same time, another creature landed behind me and I spun to face it. Many shining eyes glared at me and its sharp pincers clicked. It moved forward on eight spindly legs.
"Spiders!" I yelped in disgust. I moved on instinct now and poured fire at the foul thing. It made a horrible squealing, squelching sound and flopped onto its back in its effort to escape, its many legs flailing. Then it went still and left behind an acrid smell.
Ralof succeeded in throwing his spider off and I sent another fire spell to deal it a quick death.
"Uch, hate those things. Too many eyes."
"I can see why the tunnel was abandoned," I noted dryly.
But I felt a swoop of hope. I could feel a fresh breeze coming from up ahead and as we moved along, scanning the ceiling for more spiders, we spotted daylight.
"Nearly there," Ralof sighed.
My eyes travelled around the cave and then I spotted something about twenty paces ahead. I grabbed the back of Ralof's jerkin and pointed.
"It's a bear," I hissed. The animal was huge but thankfully curled up asleep. I could hear it snuffling.
"I'd rather not tangle with her right now. Let's try and sneak past," Ralof muttered.
We crouched and moved slowly and carefully across the cave. I never took my eyes off the bear until we made it to the exit and I was able to straighten and take a deep breath of air. A spectacular view was laid out before me. We stood on a slope overlooking a wooded valley with a river flowing at the bottom. Across from us there were snow-capped peaks under a glorious blue sky. But then we heard a roar.
"Get down!" I cried and we both hid behind a boulder. The dragon swooped over our heads then with a mighty flap of its wings, soared away towards the mountains.