The Red Dragon
Loading Screen… Skyrim is comprised of nine holds…
~OoOoO~
"Hey, you, you're finally awake!" Said a nordic accented voice as Sasha's eyes blinked open a few times. "You were trying to cross the border, right? Walked right into that Imperial ambush. Same as us, and that thief over there."
Sasha lazily looked over in the direction of the horse thief. "Damn you Stormcloaks, Skyrim was fine until you came along. If they hadn't been looking for you. Could've cleared that border and been halfway to Hammerfell."
"We're all brothers and sisters in binds now, thief," the blond Nord ejected.
Sasha dazed off as the two bickered back and forth.
"Emperor Tiberias is rather young for his role as Emperor, don't you think?" Said a Thalmor woman as they pulled into the village. "But he's honored the white-gold concordat thus far. Even then, I wonder why he's staying in Solitude?"
The town had a crude, wooden wall surrounding it and treen cabins with porches making up the bulk of it. Imperial towers dominating the main space. A stone inlaid path and banners of a stag strung up around.
"This is Helgen," said the blond. "I used to be sweet on a girl from here. Wonder if Vilod is still making mead with juniper berries mixed in."
Sasha leaned to the side of the cart as it drummed over the stone road. They came to a halt; the prisoners being shepherded out. They lined up in a queue as a man and woman called their names. The townspeople scattered around, watching them. A chopping block and executioner awaited them.
Well, at least it'll be over soon, Sasha grimly thought, biting down on his lip.
"Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm," said the imperial soldier. The Nord dressed in fancy armor with a gag in his mouth stepped toward the congregation of captured soldiers. "Ralof of Riverwood. Lokir of Rorikstead." The blond and the brunette waltzed over to the block. Sasha moved ahead. "Who are you?"
Sasha stared at the ground for a moment. "I don't know."
"What's your name?" The woman pressed.
"Sasha Kroum, Bruma." Sasha stared back at the ground, the abyss swallowing him up.
The man's face was marred by horror. "You survived the Burning of Bruma? We only just received news of it."
Will they believe me if I tell them it was a dragon?
"What caused it?" The man asked.
"I don't know," lied Sasha.
The woman in the meantime was scanning the list the male soldier was holding. "Forget the list, he goes to the block."
"Commander Delta, you want to kill the last survivor of Bruma?" The man's eyebrows shot up.
Delta scowled at him. "He's obviously lying. Now, send him to the block."
Sasha didn't bother to look at her. 'General Tullius' had just finished issuing a statement and was now directing Ulfric Stormcloak to the headsman's block. Ulfric complied, resting his head on the stone rock. The headsman wasted no time, sweeping his axe over Ulfric's neck. His head toppled into the bucket.
"YOU WILL NEVER BE FORGOTTEN, ULFRIC!" Shouted a Stormcloak woman as the rest of them cried in protest.
"Next, the liar!" Delta shouted.
Sasha almost smiled. They won't even believe I'm from Bruma… I could shout to the General, and he might save me… but I think I'd rather die than live any longer. He put his head on the block as the headsman readied his axe.
Then it happened.
The Red Dragon, Du'uljunyol rained fire from above, razing the whole village. Fire streaming from its mouth like water out of a waterfall.
Sasha disoriented, looked up and opened his eyes.
"Hey kinsmen, get over here!" Shouted Ralof.
Sasha rushed into the tower, the giant red dragon burning the town of Helgen above him. Red hot fire laughing around as it swallowed people like kindling.
"Up through the tower and keep going!" Yelled Ralof.
Sasha shot up the stairs but as he neared the top, Du'uljunyol burst through the stone wall and burned the soldier there. The demon of death flew off and Sasha stopped, overlooking the new exit. He saw an opening in the inn and jumped. It was a rough landing, but he eventually made his way out.
"Hurry, Hadvar!" Shouted an old man.
Hadvar, the male soldier from before turned around and ran back as Du'uljunyol landed ahead. From here the crimson dragon with aureate outlines of its scales looked absolutely terrifying. Sneering nostrils, wings flaring back as it crawled on its four legs.
"Gunnar, watch the boy!" Hadvar yelled. "Still alive, Sasha? Come with me if you want to stay that way."
Du'uljunyol took flight once more as Sasha and Hadvar curved and cleaved their way through the burning town. General Tullius shouting instructions to his men, "get the townspeople to safety, now!"
Sasha bolted down the lane with Hadvar until Ralof ambled out in front of them. The courtyard was wide open with a stone wall enclosing it in and a keep of crude make sat to their right. A platform preceding it.
"We're escaping Hadvar, you won't stop us this time!" Ralof yelled, holding an axe.
"You sicken me. I can't believe you were my best friend once." Hadvar shook his head in disgust.
"Hadvar!" Shouted Tullius. "Forget the Stormcloak! Help us with the dragon!"
Hadvar turned around and ran off.
Ralof turned to Sasha. "Sasha, was it? Follow me, I think I know a way out of here from my youth."
Sasha resigned to follow the tyrant worshipper. Du'uljunyol hovered in the air as arrows befell him.
"Goodbye for now, Sasha. But remember, I will rob you of everyone you love. Everyone." Du'uljunyol's green eyes carved into his soul. Sasha would never forget them.
He rushed into the keep as the crimson dragon's fire blazed the path. They had to sneak or fight their way through the dungeon of Helgen, full of Imperial soldiers. This civil war needs to be put to an end. These idiots can't look past their differences even when there's a dragon.
Sasha and Ralof made it out of the cave and Sasha feasted his eyes on the view of the rolling small hill with its tall bushes and flower filled fields. Momentous pine trees decorating the treescape. Du'uljunyol swooped past their hideout and flew in the direction of a barrow on a hill. Butterflies landing on lavender flowers.
"Looks like he's gone for good this time. Come on, let's go." Ralof urged him to follow and the two Nords set off, walking their way through Skyrim.
"A Dragon, can you believe it?" Ralof panicked. "And what were those words it was saying to you? I couldn't understand any of it."
Wait what?
"I don't know." Sasha held his head. "That dragon burned down Bruma as well. It's after me."
Ralof's blue eyes grew. "What?! You mean to say that dragon was what caused the Burning of Bruma? And it's after you! Would explain why it spoke to you."
Sasha slid a hand through his temple as a few deer galivanted around and a hunter shot some rabbits. The path diverged.
"Maybe because…" Ralof held a thumb to his goatee. "Maybe you could be Dragonborn."
"Dragonborn? Me?" Sasha said.
Then a revelation hit him like it was divine intervention… If I can convince these people that I'm the Last Dragonborn, I could amass so much power, put an end to this civil war, and stop Du'uljunyol. He hid a grin under his hand. If I've learned anything, it's that people are fools, easily tricked.
"I think you may be right." Sasha walked on down the hill with Ralof.
A river rushed through, drawing strength from Lake Ilinalta which was surrounded by a dense aokigahara. A set of spade-shaped stones rested in a corner of the woods they were in. A boat with fishing supplies below it.
"Well, then you ought to be able to shout like the heroes of old," Ralof enthused.
I'll need to learn how to do that quickly. Walk like them until you become them, right Talos?
After about ten minutes of walking, they arrived at a town called Riverwood. Wooden huts and stone roads with a mill towards the back. A few chickens and ducks waddling through the village. Plants adorning the sides of the street. Sasha thought he saw something grey out of the corner of his eye but when he looked it was nothing.
The blacksmith at the forge gave them neutral looks as they passed, heading toward a tree stump in the back over a wooden bridge. Fish swimming through the stream below.
"Gerdur!" Ralof hugged a tall, blonde woman as a boy, dog, and heavyset man approached them.
"Brother, it's so good to see you!" Gerdur sat down on the stump with Ralof as Sasha carefully approached. "Hod, Frodnar, come here."
"Uncle Ralof!" Shouted Frodnar, jumping up and down.
"Ralof, what a surprise! What happened? You two look pretty done in." Hod, a man with a thick beard and an especially prominent mustache and ponytail came marching over.
"We were in Helgen. The cowards, they executed Ulfric." The Nord put his head down.
"That's horrible!" Gerdur put a hand to her mouth.
"Tragic," said Hod, but Sasha could tell the other Nord did not have his heart in his grief.
Sasha couldn't blame him. He too didn't care much for Ulfric. From what Sasha knew about the warlord was that he was fighting this war for the right to worship an even worse warmongering tyrant. Talos. Sasha had spent much time studying the ninth divine, and knew he was not a man worthy of praise. It was probably the only thing he agreed with the Thalmor on. Even so, every man should have the right to worship who he chooses. But fighting a war where so many lives are lost over it? No thanks.
"But that isn't even the worst of it. Mark my words on Talos, Gerdur," Ralof started. "A dragon attacked and burned down the town. It spoke to Sasha, and he understood it." The blond pointed to Sasha.
Sasha's heart raced.
"That must explain what I saw flying down the mountainside," murmured Hod, putting his hand on his chin.
"Jarl Balgruuf in Whiterun has to know if there's a dragon on the loose." Gerdur turned to Sasha. He avoided her gaze. "We need to tell him to send any troops he can. Please, go to Whiterun and warn the Jarl. Riverwood will be in your debt."
Sasha nodded.
Gerdur stood up and encouraged Sasha to follow her. "Look, we aren't exactly rich but owning the mill does have its perks and with that I can have you suited in a full set of armor. You don't expect us to send you to Whiterun in those rags, do you?"
The next morning, Sasha was walking down the road to Whiterun, crossing the bridge and gazing at his reflection in the water. – He wore a horned iron helmet. It had no mouthguard as it cut halfway so you could see his mouth. Two horns curved downward from the sides. He wore a set of studded armor and iron boots and gauntlets. A banded iron shield with a steel sword. Steel arrows and an imperial bow he'd picked up from Helgen.
He continued his stroll, watching the tranquil river fall over rapids and birds twitter in their nests. The gleam of early morning light speckling through the trees. A few rabbits and mice scurrying about.
Sasha thought back to something two years back.
The pasta simmering in the pot over the fire as a beautiful woman danced around the kitchen and poured some vegetables and sliced chicken into the mix.
"What can I help with, mother?" A twenty-three-year-old Sasha entered their kitchen. This was back before Sasha had grown a light beard and long hair. When his face was clean shaven, and his hair was short and gelled but parted.
The kitchen held shelves full of different ingredients and a hearth for baking along with a pot over a fire for boiling the pasta. Tomatoes, leeks, onions, and other vegetables sitting in crates.
Sasha stirred the pasta until it was ready, and his mother served the food.
"We made this together, Sasha. That why it's made of love," his mother, Thorrun told him.
Sasha sat down on the edge of the road and broke down into tears.
~OoOoO~
A/N: Please leave a review if you can. I greatly appreciate them.