Elder Scroll series 1. Prologue

_**Well, hello there. You seem to have found my first published fanfiction.**_

_**This will be a story centered on the adventures of my Dragonborn, and the backstory I've concocted for her. Assume that my Dragonborn has already been to Helgen, but has NOT discovered her Dragonborn-ness, completed the Dawnguard questline and is currently in the midst of the Thieves Guild one. I've tried writing the Dawnguard quests before, but for some reason I just don't like what I write. It also spares everyone from the Helgen scene I know we all love (hate).**_

_**(Disclaimer) Skyrim and all its associated plots, quests, characters, etc., does not belong to me. That's Bethesda's stuff.**_

_**I've written things for a long time, but I've never been brave enough to share what I write. So...be an awesome person and please tell me what you think? Read on, and hopefully, enjoy!**_

* * *

_When there is shadow, there must be light..._

I raised in a house of solidarity. Taught to be steadfast and true. I was taught to fight alongside my friends, to keep them so that they'd keep me. I was even taught to lead my friends to their death, if need be. It was something I never wanted to do. But the years passed, and tragedy after tragedy and atrocity after atrocity turned that steadfast, true girl into a bitter, lonely woman. Her faith-and her morals-began to leave her. I found I couldn't force myself to care about anyone's life because I knew I wouldn't be able to save them all anyway.

So I finally embraced that one teaching I had never agreed with. I made friends, led them into battle, watched them die, and my heart shed no tears. I was truly a warrior whose very soul had frozen over.

And that was even before I became the Dragonborn.

Suddenly, the world's problems were my problems. I could scarcely take two steps without having to face something else. Yet I fought the world's dangers like I fought my personal battles: with a heart of stone and a soul of ice, with an arrow in my bowstring and a shield and dagger strapped to my back and waist, unafraid of whoever-or whatever-I might face.

It was in this darkest and most destitute of times that I met two Dunmer, two Dunmer who would weave their way into my life so quickly and so tightly that I never had a shadow of a hope of evicting them. I tried to resist it at first. Caring for people only led to more trouble and tragedy further down the road. But as time passed on, and despite myself, I grew to care for them, to protect them. They refused to abandon me in my time of need, like only true friends do, and they also taught me about what being a hero truly meant.

Being a hero wasn't being the best at swinging a sword or shooting a bow, it wasn't about being able to cast the most powerful or most potent of spells, and quite honestly it wasn't even about being that particularly intelligent. Being a hero is knowing someone is hurting, knowing that someone is suffering, and helping them, whether you're giving them a shoulder to lean on or an ear to listen. It's about being there for others even if they haven't been there for you. It might not be that important in the grand scheme of things, but for each person that I help, that I befriend, tales of my name would spread. Folk would begin to seek me out, asking for my help, and no matter if it was as trivial as simply advising someone or rescuing their loved one from a bandit's lair, to them, I was a hero.

Most importantly, though, being a hero means bringing everything you've got to defend what you love, and not giving in until you're dead and cold on the ground. It means holding your ground even when your feet tell you to run. It means taking that last step forward when it might be wiser to take a step back. It doesn't mean facing danger without fear. That's called being foolhardy. Being a hero means you face peril, maybe even death, with your terror, and you stare that peril in the face and dare it to take you on, because you've got something worth fighting for. I haven't always been so fortunate to have that.

Whatever you fight for, fight for it with all you've got. Even so, you might lose it. And that's a bitter truth to accept. I know. I've been there many times before. But you still need to fight for something, because if you haven't got anything to fight for, then you're really only a shell of a person. It took me a long time for me to step back from myself and see that I really was nothing more than a frosty shell of someone who used to be a person. Someone that used to have emotions, someone who used to believe in the Divines, someone who used to _care_.

As soon as I realized the person I'd become, I was nothing short of horrified. I'd become like the fiends in the stories my father had read to me at night, growing up. I'd turned into a soulless, heartless monster that was too accustomed to atrocity and death, and not accustomed enough to joy and love and all those things that I know we all take for granted sometimes.

I turned myself around, made amends to those I'd wronged, did my best to make myself a better person. Some wounds were too deep to heal. They had to be let alone, and there was nothing I could do for them. It was challenging and painful to accept I'd royally messed up some things beyond repair, but the world would continue to move forward, and so would I. I'd had never turned down a task before then, but that was something I would not wish on anyone. Making the decisions I made, doing the things I did...and then trying to atone for all of them.

It's something that is simultaneously one of the most harrowing, excruciating, and humiliating things I've ever done, and purifying, aerifying and redeeming as well. It's something like a fever. Imagine that you have the most intense sickness you can think of. Then multiply that by five. Imagine you're in-and-out of consciousness, and even when you're unconscious, you still feel the pain. Then your fever breaks, your body attempting to mend itself. You feel tired and sore and unable to do anything, but at the same time you feel powerful, like you've just rid yourself of a great darkness. That's the closest approximation I can think of.

Regardless, I'm getting long-winded and you're getting tired of hearing me prattle. Here's what you need to know right now: my life has not been easy, but it's a life that I'm proud of surviving. It's the only life I've got, after all. May as well be proud of it, right?

My name is Odiana Sky-Born, and this is my story...


	2. Misery Loves Company

_**I'm afraid there'll have to be a few boring chapters before things get more interesting, and this is one of them. However, I WILL be introducing the two other main characters in this chapter.**_

_**Onward!**_

* * *

Dawn was approaching. The barest hints of gray started to fade into the horizon, slowly and carefully stripping away the peaceful darkness of nighttime. A biting breeze, laced with bits of snow that I knew would be falling more thickly later today, raised gooseflesh on my exposed arms. Snow clumped uncomfortably around my boots, and I shook it loose irritably. This was the most gods-forsaken place I'd been in yet, and believe me, that's saying something.

I clenched my fingers more tightly around my bow right as my teeth performed a similar action. I may be born a Nord, but I seem to be less resistant to the cold. That, or it's the special armor I'm wearing that has no sleeves, courtesy of the Altmer scum Linwe that I killed in Uttering Hills Cave a month ago. You'd think that an Altmer would get even colder than I in this armor, but what did I know?

"Focus." I muttered to myself in my slight brogue, which made my 'a's, 'o's, and 'u's more pronounced. "You're trying to get home."

I continued at a slightly faster pace, making the snow clump even more. Growling, I shook my feet clean violently, probably very nearly dislocating my ankle in the process. This was my least favorite kind of snow, the kind that stuck to you no matter what you did to try and get rid of it. I'd been mired in it ever since leaving Dawnstar a few hours ago, and it showed no signs of letting up anytime soon.

I decided that the only way I was going to get through this was with speed, not caution. I didn't have much to hide from that I couldn't kill, anyway. Affixing my bow to my back, I took off through the snow, the tiniest of flakes making me squint my eyes as tears gathered in them. I pulled my hood down a bit more and angled my head to avoid it. I barely watched where I was going, trusting that my feet would not lead me astray. After a few moments, I saw scattered, slush-covered cobblestone beneath my soaking boots.

I stopped for a moment to catch my breath with my hands on my knees. I decided to sit and rest before pushing on. I'd be able to go farther if I rested a bit more. But, with the rest came the reminder of why I'd been in the Pale to begin with.

Leaning back against the ice-cold stone, I allowed myself a small, desolate sigh, puffing the air around my face with a light fog. My search in Dawnstar had turned up nothing, and I just kept meeting with more dead ends the harder I searched. I was starting to think I would get nowhere.

_But you have to keep searching, Odie._ I reminded myself._ You can't abandon him just yet. Not until you know for sure he's gone._

Pushing myself back to my feet, I set off down the road to Windhelm at a walk. Snow began to fall more strongly as the sun rose, although I could barely tell the time of day at all. After about ten minutes of letting snow start to pile up in the nooks and crannies of my armor, I pulled Auriel's Shield from my back and held it in the direction the snow appeared to be coming from the most strongly; it did little good. Wind buffeted the flakes of bitterly cold ice in every direction, and no matter which way I turned my shield, I was still under attack from the vicious weather.

I hated this weather. I couldn't even find adequate words to describe just_ how much_ I hated it. Using my hand as a weak snow-shield, I scouted for an overhang that I could take shelter in until this blizzard passed. I'd rather be in Candlehearth Hall-or even better, the Ragged Flagon-right now, wrapped in some warm furs, but it's more likely that I'd get lost trying to get there in the snow.

Shivering, teeth chattering wildly, I scolded myself for the thousandth time on my stupidity just as I'd been leaving Dawnstar.

_"This one thinks the cold is setting in. A blizzard will most certainly strike by daybreak." Ahkari told me worriedly. She offered me a cloak made of snowy sabre-cat fur, and while it looked very warm, I knew I shouldn't take it. It would only weigh me down._

_"No, thanks, Ahkari." I said crisply. "I'll make it to Windhelm before the snow hits. Besides, I don't think I could afford that." Which was a plain-faced lie. I made damn good money as a member of the Thieves Guild, certainly more than enough to purchase the cloak, but I needed to leave now if I actually was going to make it to Windhelm by daybreak._

_"Take it." she said insistently, holding it out to me. "This one knows you do not like the cold. And besides, we do not need it as much as you do."_

_"I need to go now, Ahkari." I replied abruptly, stalking away with long strides down the cobblestone path before I'd decided to take Wayward Pass instead._

Once again, not for the first time, I realized that was not one of the smartest decisions I'd ever made.

I propped my shield up against the rocky overhang and myself, offering slightly more protection from the whistling and howling winds. It was getting ready to be ugly as _sin_ out here. It already _was_ ugly as sin out here. I once again debated the wisdom of making a run for Windhelm, and promptly decided against it. If I ventured from my shield-overhang shelter, I'd be tempting death. And I couldn't die, not while I was still looking for _him_.

I rubbed my arms, futilely trying to ease some warmth back into them. My teeth continued to chatter no matter how tightly I held my jaw closed, and I decided to occupy myself with thoughts of the Guild and how things were shaping up for me there. Mercer, while a generally surly and mean character, was not someone that I had to interact with on a daily basis, thankfully. I'd just been assigned to go to Solitude and question an Argonian, Gulum-Ei or something like that, about Karliah's whereabouts. I'd made my detour to Dawnstar, though, and now I was headed back to Windhelm to hire a carriage. There was no way in Oblivion I'd be walking all the way to Solitude from here.

Everyone there seemed to tolerate me to some extent. I'd earned a name for myself as one of the supposed best thieves in the Guild, but with the way the Guild had been doing for so long, it didn't take much to be one of the best. I snorted and rolled my honey-golden eyes, strawberry-blonde hair falling in damp clumps around my face. Seemingly anyone who'd walked into the Cistern with _some_ idea of how to pick a lock and a pocket and remain undetected was practically Guildmaster, at least when I first arrived four months ago.

Now, things were looking up considerably. We'd gotten two new recruits, and a level of respect that the Guild hadn't attained for quite some time, if what Mercer said was to be believed. My life could have been worse, I suppose. The only things that would make it better were either long gone or had disappeared without a trace, same with my broken heart and shattered spirit. Shaking my head, not allowing myself to proceed further down that chain of thought, I drew my knees up closer to my underdeveloped chest. When I was curled up like this, the shield could protect my entire body. Of course, using it in battle like this would be incredibly inconvenient.

I grin despite myself, suddenly struck with the mental image of warriors scurrying onto a battlefield, hidden behind their shields like I was now, attempting to poke one another with their swords and war axes from the safety of their barriers. I snickered. I guess some things never change, and one of those things was my quite odd and somewhat dry sense of humor.

I sat behind my shield for almost three hours, unable to see anything besides the falling snow and the occasional silhouette of a passing wolf. I only stayed warm thanks to the small spurt of flame I was able to conjure from my hands. I wasn't skilled with magic by any stretch of the imagination, but I had long ago taught myself to create fire so I wouldn't freeze to death in the snow. Sadly, I could only hold that flame for a few moments at best, and with the weather being this bad, I wasn't going to be able to start a fire anytime soon.

And then, just as suddenly as the snow had been ruthlessly testing my shield's strength, it subsided. I poked my head out from the safety of my shield and saw that while the snow level had risen considerably-and was still falling lightly-if I was going to make a run for Windhelm, now would be the perfect opportunity to do so.

I had to kick my shield free from the rock and frost beneath it before attaching it to my back and setting off down the road at a brisk jog, hoping to get my blood moving again. Upon reaching the stables, I found to my burning frustration that there was no carriage, and that according to the stablemaster, there likely wouldn't be one for at least a few more days. Growling to myself, I kicked aside piles of newly-fallen icy snow to cross Windhelm's bridge and enter the city itself.

I'd been to Windhelm several times before, mostly on Guild business, though. I tended to avoid the two major capitals of the civil war, Windhelm and Solitude, lest someone try to recruit me. So far, I had no opinion on the war, except that it was getting people killed for no good reason.

Lost in thought, I rounded a corner and was immediately slammed into the ground by a figure that had, until just a second ago, been sprinting away from something-or someone-and they let out a startled yelp. I'd had the breath knocked out of me and lay winded for a moment before my anger took over. Leaping to my feet, I snatched the wrist of the other person and yanked them to a halt.

She looked up at me with wide, frightened red eyes. A young Dunmer girl; she likely couldn't have been out of her teens. She had light grayish-tan skin and light brown hair that was long and matted with dirt and perhaps the smallest amount of blood. She was also dramatically emaciated; her wrist felt like a skeleton's in my grasp.

"Don't hurt me!" she practically squealed, trying-and failing-to pull her wrist from my iron grasp.

"Watch where you're running!" I snapped, and then asked, "What in Meridia's name are you running from anyway, idiot? You could have hurt me!" My chest still ached slightly with the sudden impact, and I still didn't fully have my breath back.

"I-" the girl started to respond, but she was interrupted by another voice, a male one, deep and somewhat soothing.

"Beryn? Are you out here? I swear by Azura that if you've gotten yourself in trouble again..." the voice trailed off as another Dunmer, likely her husband or friend, ran around the corner as well. He had dark, slate-gray skin, and black hair cut short, as well as a well-trimmed goatee. He stopped short when he saw his friend in my grasp and asked, "Who in Azura's name are you?"

"I'd ask the same of you." I retorted. "Your _friend_ here came racing around the corner without watching where she was going and knocked me clean off my feet!"

"It was an accident!" the girl, apparently called Beryn, insisted as her friend turned to glare at her.

"I apologize for my sister." he said, turning back to me. "She tends to be...high-spirited, even when starving. I'm Sethys."

"Odiana." I said. I released his sister and watched as she ran to hide behind her brother, peeking fearfully out at me.

He glanced at her before turning back to me. "I don't think I've seen you around here before."

"Same as you." I said dryly. "You must be a newcomer. I've been here several times before."

Sethys paused, like he was considering saying something but was about to decide against it before venturing, "You're a traveller, correct?"

"That's right." I replied, my suspicion level rising. I subconsciously raised my guard as well, even though it had been a fairly innocent question to ask.

"We've been trying to get to Whiterun." Sethys explained, looking back at his sister. "We hoped we could start better lives there than here. The problem is, both of us are too weak to make the journey alone."

"And?" I asked, boredly.

"Would you help us get there?"

I pursed my lips and narrowed my eyes. I opened my mouth to refuse, but Sethys interrupted me again.

"Look, we're not entirely useless in a fight." he seemed to be getting desperate, and I wondered just how many travellers he'd asked for help. "I can still swing a sword fairly well, and Beryn here's not bad with Destruction magic. We could help you."

"I can't guarantee your safety." I warned flatly. "My first and foremost concern is myself. If we get into major trouble, you're on your own."

The problem was, I _wanted_ to help them. I wanted to ensure their safety, make sure they arrived at Whiterun with no difficulty so they could create better lives for themselves, but I knew better by now than to get attached to anyone as weak as the two of them. More likely than not, they'd die on the journey. Neither of them was looking particularly healthy, and only Sethys had armor, a hodge-podge of an imperial light cuirass, hide boots, and leather bracers, with a rusty iron sword sheathed at his side. Beryn was outfitted in a set of torn, ragged mage robes, and didn't even have boots, but instead a pair of leather shoes that were falling apart at the seams.

"We understand that." Sethys assured me. "We wouldn't expect you to risk yourself for us in a big fight. We just need someone else's help to get to Whiterun."

"Fine." I said briskly. "We'll leave at dawn. Don't be late, because I'm not waiting for you."


	3. The First Steps

I slept soundly that night. For the first time since leaving Dawnstar, I was warm, well-fed, and in a moderately better temper than the day before. I awoke with a surprising feeling of optimism, which was rare in itself, and quickly took advantage of that good feeling by hurrying out of the inn, to where Beryn and Sethys would be waiting for me.

I still had mixed thoughts about travelling with them. I knew nothing about them, except that they were skinny, underfed, and desperate. Desperate people were dangerous. I used to be one of them. However, I was also much stronger, and I could easily kill the both of them if they decided to attack me. I shrugged to myself as I approached the stables. As far as most of my work went, this was easy.

Sethys was leaning against the wooden wall of the stables, Beryn sitting cross-legged to his right. They both jumped, startled at my quiet approach, but quickly relaxed upon identifying me. Beryn rose to her feet and walked up to me first. She quietly said, "I want to apologize for yesterday. I should have been looking where I was going."

"It's fine." I said shortly. "We should get going."

I turned and walked away, leaving Sethys and Beryn to scramble after me. "I don't think she likes us much." Beryn muttered, out of my earshot.

"I know, but she's our only hope for getting to Whiterun." Sethys whispered back. "Just...don't antagonize her anymore."

The start of our journey was slow and very, very cold. Neither of them could go any faster than an easy walk, and we took breaks often, so we didn't get much farther than Silverdrift Lair that day. We didn't even make it to the slightly more mild tundra of Whiterun. However, I'd also partially expected this.

It _had_ been a pretty day, though. Whereas yesterday the snow had slowed me down, the sun shone brightly, briefly warming my bare arms until a chilly breeze puffed gently, carrying small bits of frost with it. It was the kind of weather that could make someone feel like a kid again, racing around with newfound energy, not a care to be had in the world. I was not a kid, though, and I had a goal to accomplish. I grumbled as I shifted my weight to my other foot, fists upon hips as I scrutinized the horizon, wondering if we could make it just a bit farther before the last golden rays of sunlight vanished. I cast a quick glance behind me at my two companions and saw that they were practically stumbling with exhaustion. We wouldn't make it much farther without one of them collapsing.

"We can make camp inside the ruins or out here." I said, scanning the exterior of the ruins, which seemed empty. I'd been inside Nordic ruins plenty of times before, though, and if there was one thing I knew for certain, it was that appearances can be deceiving. "Wait here, and I'll take a look."

"I could come with you." Sethys offered, laying a hand on the hilt of his iron sword.

"Don't be foolish!" I snapped. "You can barely stand; I see your knees shaking. Sit down and I'll be right back." Without waiting for a response, I yanked my hood forcefully up and crept into Silverdrift Lair.

Upon quietly closing the iron door, I carefully lowered my hood so I could hear more clearly, and quickly eased my bow from my back and a single Sunhallowed arrow from my quiver. The tip glowed white-hot, ready to explode as soon as it came into contact with anything solid, and I slowly and painstakingly strung it as I swept through the first room, making for certain it was clear. Stone sarcophagi were firmly shut, and I pointed my arrow at each one before swiftly moving to the next door I saw. I set my arrow on the ground carefully and tested the door. It was firmly shut and locked, and it looked as though it would need a key to open it.

So, I couldn't get in, but that also meant that whatever draugr might be in there couldn't get _out_. We would be safe here, at least for the night. Soundlessly treading back towards the entrance, I'd made it to the doorway when I heard a sarcophagus lid hit the stone floor.

In a flash, I was back in the main chamber, bow and arrow in hand. As suddenly as I was in the doorway, an ancient war axe fell on my gray leather shoulder piece with a draugr growl of "_Dir volaan!_" Grunting with surprise and the force of the impact, I swung my bow and arrow around. It was risky, shooting off an exploding arrow so close to myself, but I didn't have a choice. Closing my eyes and looking away in preparation for the flame, I released the arrow.

Sun fire burned the air around me, and I winced and cried out with frustration and pain as I felt the skin on my upper arms blister and burn. I was knocked backwards with the force of the impact, and hit the wall behind me. Dazed, and knocked momentarily unconscious, I raised my head, and my vision swam as soon as I tried to open my eyes. I saw nothing clearly no matter what I did, and my ears rang and throbbed painfully. I heard sounds as though I were underwater, and I tried to shake my head to clear both feelings, but only got more dizzy, shutting my eyes slowly again.

"Odiana?" I thought I heard a voice say my name, but I couldn't be certain. I tried to open my eyes again and thought I saw a small flash of red eyes. "Odiana, can you hear me?"

Sound and vision returned to me, and I saw Beryn's blurry face in front of mine. Her dark red eyes were wide with fear and concern, but her voice sounded calm. I looked over her shoulder to see Sethys still fighting with the draugr, the silver shaft of my arrow sticking out from its shoulder. Damn it, I must have missed the heart when I'd closed my eyes to avoid the arrow's burn.

Sethys was having a difficult time. The draugr had an iron shield, and Sethys' blows fell uselessly upon it, his strength waning and arms trembling. I pushed myself to my feet and pulled my shield from my back with shaky arms, where it had taken the worst of the damage from my impact with the wall. Sethys' strength failed just as the draugr's war axe began to fall again, and I sprinted with speed I didn't know I had, shoving my shield in front of the both of us. Closing my eyes, and praying to Meridia that this would work, I bashed with my shield as the war axe fell.

There was an impact, a resonant, chime-like sound, a muffled thump, and then silence. Trying to catch my breath, I lowered my shield ever so slightly to see the draugr, or what was left of it, laying on the floor seven or so feet away. Sethys peered out from behind me to look at the draugr as well, and he finally said, voice shaking slightly, "How...how did you _do_ that?"

"It's the shield." I said, forcing my voice to come out just as detached as it normally is. I'm actually surprisingly shaken by my close encounter. Draugr are never a problem for me, but I'd been caught off-guard and had paid for it. It was only thanks to my two temporary companions that I hadn't met my end in a Nordic crypt, although, I surmised sourly, if I'd been travelling alone, I wouldn't have had to stop here in the first place.

"Are you all right?" Beryn asked her brother, looking him up and down.

"Just...a little shaken." he replied. And he sounded like it, too. He might have been going into shock, which was about all we needed right now.

Turning completely around to face the both of them, I approached Sethys and shooed Beryn to the side. "Sethys, look at me." I ordered. He faced me, and I grasped his chin, turning his head side to side and looking into his eyes until I was satisfied he hadn't been injured and wasn't going into shock. Sifting through the small satchel at my side, I pulled out a small healing potion and handed it to him. "Drink this, it'll help clear your head."

As he obliged, I went to where I'd fallen and picked up my bow. "We can make camp in the entrance chamber." I said crisply. "I don't have much food, but whatever I do have, you can split. I'll head back down the road to Nightgate Inn and buy something there. Whatever you do, don't try to get into that room." I jerked my thumb at the locked door.

"Are you sure you should be running around after you just got attacked?" Beryn ventured nervously.

"I'll be fine." I replied brusquely. Shrugging my entire pack off, I offered it to Sethys and headed out, footsteps still slightly unsteady. I needed fresh air, and getting food was the perfect excuse.

I still couldn't believe I'd been caught so off-guard. I prided myself on always being alert to my surroundings, guessing what people-or creatures-would do even before they did it, and usually getting it right. It had only been a _draugr_, for Meridia's sake. I'd faced worse during my time in Skyrim. Maybe I was losing my touch, getting complacent. I thought I'd done everything right, but as I thought more and more about how I'd tackled the infiltration, I realized there were a lot of things I could have done better. Not to mention, I'd run blindly into that chamber as soon as I'd heard the sarcophagus lid hit the floor, instead of exercising a bit more caution and taking things more slowly.

I'd made my mistakes, and I really hoped I improved from them.

Entering Nightgate Inn, it was warm and quiet; as far as I could tell, there was only one other patron, who was busy getting drunk. Ignoring the drunk man, I approached the innkeeper and asked, "Have you got any food I could just take with me? Anything easily portable?" I hadn't considered that I might _need_ my satchel to carry the food I bought before giving it to Sethys. That meant I'd have to carry whatever I bought in my hands, leaving me more vulnerable without access to my weapons. I groaned inwardly. This evening had just been a whole mess of disasters and mistakes, and I couldn't wait for it to be over.

"Got some bread, a few apples, few wedges of cheese." the innkeeper listed. "That help ya at all?"

"I'll take whatever you've got." I replied, taking a bit of my money from where I kept it hidden in small pockets throughout my armor. I was handed a half-piece of bread, two apples, and two wedges of cheese, one goat, one eidar. Thanking the innkeeper, I headed back out, the cold hitting me like an icy fist and driving any warmth I'd acquired in the inn swiftly away. I tried to eat as I walked, hoping to free at least one of my hands so I could use my ebony dagger if need be. It wasn't until I bent my arms back to shield the food from the weather that I was reminded of my burns, gasping with the pain. I nearly dropped everything, but gritted my teeth and kept walking. Sethys had my satchel, which had all my potions inside it. I would have to wait to eat until I got back to the crypt.

Fortunately, I arrived back at camp with no further calamities, and saw that Beryn had built a small fire and was warming her hands beside it. I didn't see Sethys, and I didn't ask where he'd gotten off to. Instead, I asked, "Do you have my satchel?"

Wordlessly, Beryn handed over my satchel, picked completely clean of any food I may have had inside it. All my potions were still intact, though, and so I quickly located a healing one, drinking it down. Warmth flooded through my body, concentrating itself in the burnt areas of my arms. My pulled muscles and other minor burns that I'd sustained during the draugr attack were healed, and I quickly stretched my stiff arms to ensure that there wasn't any permanent damage. The skin where I'd been burned was still pink, and the whole area was a little sore, but it would heal within the next few days or so.

Beryn and I sat in companionable silence for a few minutes while I ate, and then Beryn broke it, asking, "You don't like us much, do you?"

Swallowing a bite of the red apple I'd just been eating, I shrugged and said, "Don't take it personally, all right? Honestly, it comes down to it that you two are still complete strangers to me, and I don't know if I can trust you."

"How do you think _we_ feel, then?" Beryn queried. This was the most I'd heard from her in the two days we'd known each other, and I raised my eyebrows as she continued, "You're a person who hardly ever speaks, treats me and my brother like we're incompetent, and then stalks out without even thanking us for saving her life."

"How old are you, Beryn?" I asked, setting the apple down and leaning forward, resting my elbows on my crossed legs.

Beryn narrowed her eyes suspiciously, but answered, "Sixteen."

"Then I suppose I can forgive your innocence, although by the time I was sixteen, I'd seen and done more things than you could probably even imagine." I replied coolly. "Until you've seen what the world can do to you, Beryn, don't go making judgments on a person you've just met." Then I picked up my apple again and took another bite with a satisfying _crunch_.

Sethys emerged from the ruins five awkward minutes later, holding some things in his hands. He sat down between Beryn and I, and dropped the things he'd been holding. Coins clinked to the stone, and a few small gemstones as well. Beryn's eyes widened and she shifted herself closer to her brother. "Where did you find all these?" she asked, crimson eyes shining.

Sethys himself looked quite satisfied with himself, and he said, "There were a few burial urns that had a few coins in them. A few had these gems." he explained. He turned to me, bright ruby eyes filled with accomplishment. "You could keep a few gems, if you want." he offered.

I shook my head. "You can sell those for a few coins in Whiterun. It's money that you need quite a bit more than I do."

Beryn tugged on her brother's arm impatiently. "Come on, Sethys, we need to count all this!" she pulled a small pile of coins towards her and began to count under her breath. Sethys cast one more glance at me, but I could tell he needed to keep those gems.

"If you offer anything else to me, I'll hit you." I growled. "You're starving, and you'll need the money." _Careful, Odie,_ I warned myself, _you're straying into the 'caring too much' zone. Tread with caution._

To my surprise, Sethys laughed, and said, "All right then." and then he began to count things alongside his sister. I shook my head, and went to the far corner of the chamber, laying down against the wall with my hands clasped together under my cheek in lieu of a pillow, which I would have preferred. I closed my eyes and made an attempt at sleep, but Beryn burst into laughter over something Sethys said; it was ringing and high-pitched, and I curled my lip as it pierced directly down to my eardrums. A familiar red-hot feeling of rage turned my blood to flame as it scorched through my veins mercilessly.

I was furious. Why was I furious? Today hadn't been the greatest, but I'd certainly faced worse. What made _right now_ so terrible?

And then it struck me, clear as day. I was jealous of Beryn. She still _had_ a brother to joke around with, to laugh with, to fight alongside. My laugh had once sounded like hers, a long time ago, bright and high-pitched and happy. I had none of that anymore.

Tears threatened to take me, but I refused to cry here, in their presence. I rolled over onto my other side, facing the cold, unforgiving stone wall, and placed a hand over my mouth to muffle the sobs that I had tried to dismiss. To cry was to be weak. Another of my early lessons. I would not cry. Not here, not in self-pity.

Eventually, the sounds of the world faded away as the blissful darkness of sleep claimed me at last.

I was awoken some time later by the cold. Shivering, I sat up and saw that the fire had been put out. It was a good precaution, but unnecessary since we were inside a structure, invisible to anyone just happening to pass by. Rubbing my arms in an attempt to warm them up, I strode over to the empty fire-pit, gathering some fresh wood that one of them had to have collected during my brief trip to Nightgate. I summoned a small flicker of flame from my thumb and index finger and put it to the new wood until it took. I sat cross-legged by the fire with my hands dangerously close to the tantalizing flame.

Sethys stirred and turned over, slowly waking up. "Odiana," he said, confused, "did you light the fire?"

"Yes." I replied quietly, knowing that Beryn was still sleeping and that she likely needed her rest. Sethys too. "You should go back to sleep. You'll need your rest."

Rather than go back to sleep, he got up and sat down across from me nearby the fire. He didn't say anything, and I felt no urge to converse, uncrossing my legs and putting my boots closer to the flame. Finally, he began with, "I heard you and my sister talking earlier. About how you don't trust us."

"I told Beryn this, and now I'm telling you," I stated, a bit more sharply than I should've with a sleeping person nearby, "don't take it personally."

Sethys shook his head. "I wasn't going to. I was going to say she was out of line, questioning you. She didn't have that right."

"She's right to be suspicious." I pointed out. "I _am_ just a strange and often-angry traveler who happens to be good at archery and using a shield."

"But you're also the only person who agreed to take us to Whiterun." he countered. "We talked to so many others when they came through, but all of them either looked at us with disgust, or just flat-out told us they didn't want to." Sethys shook his head. "Eventually, we gave up hope. And then Beryn ran into you."

I grunted. I hardly wanted to be played off as the sudden answer to everyone's problems. "I'm no miracle, Sethys, just a woman who hasn't got anything else to do." Which, I supposed, was not the entire truth. Mercer had been pretty adamant about my need to track down Karliah, but if she really was hunting him, she'd need to stick around and wait for the best opportunity to kill him, which wouldn't present itself so long as he stayed in the Guild's cistern. I figured I had a little time to kill. Why I'd chosen to use that time for this nonsense, I hadn't a clue.

"To us, it was the miracle we needed." Sethys replied simply, before getting back up and laying down nearby his sister, drifting off shortly after.

I got up and opened the iron door of the crypt to gauge about what time it was. It had to be a very early hour of the morning; there was no sign that the sun was even getting close to rising. An aurora glowed brightly, with a sky-blue color that streaked across the sky like luminescent rivers of light.

I hurriedly went inside to retrieve my bow and quiver before returning outside, as though apprehensive the aurora would vanish if I took too long. I leaned against the stone nearby the doorway with my bow and an arrow in my lap. Sloppy. I should have been guarding the place since earlier this evening.

And yet, it didn't take long for the serene aurora to lure me back into sleep, flickering like the faintest of azure candle-flames.


	4. Burning Tundra

_It is a dark evening. Darker than most; the moons are in their new phase and have yet to cast their red-white light over the land. Wisps of cloud drift unevenly across the barely-visible surface of both moons, further obscuring vision._

_I am sprinting._

_My bare feet are hitting the soil and rocks, not heeding the pain when I tread on a sharp one and blood starts to slowly leave imprints of my cut foot in the dirt. I can hear nothing but my own frantic panting and racing heart, adrenaline pumping strongly through my veins, heightening my senses and shutting out all thoughts except for one: survive._

_I can barely see where I'm going; tree trunks flash by me mere inches away, and I veer away from them only to nearly hit another. My legs burn like fire, and my panicked breathing turns to wheezing. I can't keep going for much longer, but stopping is no longer an option._

_Suddenly, a fallen tree trunk appears in front of me, and I cannot avoid it in time before skinning my shins open and collapsing to the thick, rich soil, slowly being stained with the blood from my newly-cut shins. My injuries are agonizing; blood continues to fall. I know I cannot run any further and crawl under the fallen trunk, praying to the Divines that I will not be discovered._

_My heart continues to race, not slowing for even a second. And then, I hear a voice that makes it stop completely._

_"Odie? It's safe to come out. You're fine. I'm safe. I understand now."_

_No. Not for you. Never again._

_"Odie, please. They explained this to me. I understand where we went wrong. Where our family went wrong. Please come out. We can talk about this."_

_I hate you. You're lying to me. Leave me alone._

_"Odie-love, please. You can trust me."_

_Don't call me that anymore. You threw my trust away. You're not getting it back._

_"Set the gods-damned forest on fire!" a new voice orders harshly. "We'll drive her from these woods by force!"_

_No. You won't take me. Not alive._

_I shoot off again, feet scarcely touching the ground. I hear the familiar sound of footsteps in pursuit, closer than ever. Without warning, a hand grabs my shoulder and a slightly-familiar voice shouts, "Odiana!"_

"NO!" I screamed, shooting awake, gasping for breath, reaching for whatever weapon lays nearby. Where am I?

"Odiana!" the voice from the very end of my dream registers again. I feel the same hand on my shoulder and follow it to Sethys' face. "Odiana, can you hear me?"

Still trying to catch my breath and slow my heart, I manage to respond, "Yes, I can. I'm fine, I swear. It was just...a dream."

Sethys looks unconvinced and about to question me further until I quickly interrupt, "We should get on the road if we're going to make it to Whiterun by tonight. Are you ready to go?"

"We didn't bring much." Sethys replies. "I already tore down the firepit and cleaned everything up. We're ready when you are, I guess."

"All right." I said, getting to my feet and dusting myself off, picking up my bow as I stand. "Let's be on our way, then."

The second day of our journey to Whiterun was almost as uneventful as the first, but I was immensely relieved to be leaving the freezing northern end of Skyrim and entering the more mild center. We passed by the Loreius farm when I said, "We're a few hours' journey to the front gates of the city. We could stop and rest for a while if you wanted."

"Finally." Beryn flopped down on the ground with a sigh. "We've been walking for _hours_."

Slightly annoyed, I narrow my eyes and respond, "If you were tired, you should have said so. The last thing you need upon arriving at Whiterun is dying from exhaustion."

"Says the person with dark circles under their eyes and who woke up screaming this morning." Beryn retorted.

My hands clenched into fists, but the first part of her sentence sank in. Did I really have dark circles under my eyes? It wouldn't surprise me. I've barely slept in anything besides brief snatches for the past several months. Then I register the rest of her snap and lock my jaws tightly together to prevent saying something I'd likely regret. "My dreams," I said tightly, "are none of your business."

"They are if I'm rudely awoken when it's barely dawn." Beryn blurted out.

My eyes widened with her audacity. Sethys looked horrified. Despite myself, I _laughed_! Out of all the things I could have done or said, I _laughed_! It wasn't anything like I'd used to laugh so many short years ago, and it wasn't that kind of humor, but it was a laugh, and hoarse though it sounded, it raised my spirits a bit.

"You have spirit, Beryn." I said, a crooked smile still curving across my face. "And I can admire you for that. But be forewarned," I leaned forward a bit more menacingly, smile fading instantly, and continued in a lower tone, "if your belligerence makes another appearance like that again, and you'll find out _exactly_ what it feels like to be thrown halfway across a room with Auriel's shield." and with that, I set off down the road again.

The brief break did set off a few questions in my mind as we walked. Why had I dreamed that dream again? I hadn't dreamed it for months. I was certain I'd left it behind with my acceptance into the Thieves Guild. Apparently not. Was it a sign that I was wasting my time searching for him? Or a sign I was close to finding him?

_Don't go any further than that, Odie. Stay focused._

I forced myself to turn and take in the scenery. It had been a mostly clear day, and the pale green tundra with its multi-colored wildflowers was a welcome and much-needed change from the unending white snow of Dawnstar and Windhelm. The Throat of the World stretched up farther than my eyes could see, shrouded with thick, fluffy white clouds at the top. I had always wondered what was up there as a child, and when I'd asked my father about it, I remember he took me into his vast library and told me about the Graybeards, masters of the Way of the Voice, who could Shout like dragons, yet were men of peace and tranquility. I had always found that confusing. If you have all that power, why not use it?

His answer hadn't been simple. He said they _did_ use it, but not for combative purposes. He also said it could take them years to even learn a single word. As a little six-year-old girl, I couldn't understand why anyone would ever spend that much time studying _anything_. Even now, having passed twenty-nine winters, I still didn't fully understand, and I doubted I ever would. But, I was a lowly commoner, and such complex things as the Voice or Shouting weren't at the top of my list of things to worry about.

We crested a hill and I peered into the light fog that had descended a few hours earlier, making the entire land appear as something I might've read about in a fairytale as a young girl. I pointed to my right and said, "That's Whiterun. We're just about there."

Beryn looked as though she would have jumped up and down with excitement if she still wasn't so weak. Sethys was more calm, but still appeared elated. "Have you been to Whiterun before?" he asked, gazing over my shoulder at the tall, crumbling gray wall in the distance

"Plenty of times." I hefted my bow up in a slightly more defensive position as I thought I saw something, but it turned out to be nothing more than a shadow. "But the first time is always the most..." here I paused, and debated whether I wanted to sound emotional or not. Finally, I went with the truth, "...magical."

Sethys glanced at me with a surprised expression. I knew I probably wasn't the most likely person to be using the word 'magical' to describe anything. Once, there was a time when I thought _everything_ was magical. Then reality hit. But, I digress. I turned and quietly said, "If you want to see it in daylight, we'd better hurry."

"Then let's go!" Beryn seemed newly re-energized, and as we jogged down the path, I saw a large group of what appeared to be guards running from the city itself.

I narrowed my eyes and picked up my pace. "What do you think is going on up there?" Sethys asked me, keeping pace.

"Won't know until we ask." I grunted.

"You there! Travelers!" a familiar shape in leather armor and slate-gray skin stopped all three of us.

"Irileth?" I asked, trying not to show my nerves. Irileth rarely looks shaken, and I can't be certain if that's how she looks now, but Meridia strike me if it isn't close. "What's going on?"

"Odiana? Dragon attacked the western watchtower." she replied grimly. "Only one of them made it back so far, and we don't know if there are any other survivors."

I look back at Sethys and Beryn, gauging whether or not they're up for this. Sethys looks darkly determined, and Beryn nods at me that both of them are good to fight.

"Then how would you like some extra help?" I asked, clenching my fingers more tightly around my bow's grip in anticipation.

"I think that's a damn good idea." Irileth replied. "Let's go."

We joined the large group of guards, who were armed to the teeth, in their approach to the watchtower. I hadn't encountered a dragon directly since Helgen, and while I'd seen plenty of them flying around, none of them seemed to care much for a parboiled Odie, for which I was intensely grateful. Still, we don't even know if these things can be killed. What if we all charge into our deaths? What happens to the world?

_Smaller picture, Odie. One dragon at a time. I mean, one __**problem**__ at a time._

"I don't see any obvious signs of that dragon now," Irileth stated thoughtfully as she inspected the watchtower from a distance, "but it sure as Oblivion looks like he's been here." Turning to the rest of her men, she continued, "I know this looks quite bad, but we all need to figure out what happened, and if that dragon's going to come back." Drawing her sword, we all moved forward as a group and she ordered crisply, "Spread out and look for survivors. We're going to find out what we're dealing with.

At first, our search yielded no results, just piles of shattered masonry and wooden archery practice targets that still smoldered with dragon fire. I saw scorched remnants of Whiterun's flag decorating the whole spectacle, like an evil omen. I saw combinations of terrified and furious faces as I passed by several guards in my search.

No one yet had entered the watchtower itself, and I scaled the partially-collapsed walkway carefully, ensuring that no loose stones would send me plummeting back to the unyielding permafrost. Sethys helped to balance me, and then helped his sister, but I could see the exhaustion in their eyes. I should have told them to go ahead to the city without me. Kicking myself for my mistake, I tiptoed into the stone doorway. I should have known better than to have them come with me. They were hoping to start a new life here, and what do I do? Pull them into a dragon attack. Logic.

"I want you two to stay here." I said quietly. "If any fighting breaks out."

"We can fight." Sethys tries to say, but I counter him quickly.

"You came here to start a new life, right?" I snap. He nods meekly and I continue, "So if you want to be _alive_ to start that new life, you'd be best staying in here. Got it?"

"You can't order us around!" Beryn protests, pushing in front of her brother.

"Beryn, she's right." Sethys pulls his sister back and holds onto her shoulder, making for certain that she won't try to confront me if he lets her go before adding, "We came here to start over, remember? We need to be alive for that." he offers me a wry grin. "I don't think she really wants to fight a dragon, she just doesn't want you telling her what to do."

"It was my fault." I said softly. "I should have made you go into the city without me."

Sethys shrugged. "But you didn't, and we're here, and there might be people who need our help. So we're staying."

I'm about to reply when I hear a voice from the shadows of the watchtower. "No!" a man, almost certainly one of the surviving guards, yells, aghast to see other people here. "You need to leave! It's still here somewhere! It carried off two others when we tried to make a run for it!"

Irileth, finally hearing some commotion, jogs up. "Guardsman! What happened here? Where's this dragon?"

"I don't know!" the guard shouted, his voice rising in pitch with panic.

I jogged out of the tower to scan the skies, one hand acting as a sun-shade. My gaze whips about wildly, trying to take in everything at once, and then I hear a sound that instantly transports me back to Helgen, my head on a chopping block with an axe poised to end my life and the headsman's dead eyes staring me down.

A dragon's roar.

I instinctively whip my head towards the direction of the sound, and narrow my eyes, trying to get a better view of the ridge I heard the noise from. I see a flash of shadowy motion, the beat of massive wings, another roar, fast approaching.

Irileth runs out as well, and upon seeing what I saw, she furiously shouted orders to all the guards, a hint of fear still lacing her voice.

Little does she know, I'm just as terrified as she is.

"Here he comes! Take cover, and make every damn arrow count!"

* * *

_**So, a shortish chapter before the next big one. We all know what's coming next chapter...**_


	5. Sky-Born, Dragonborn

I dove into a side roll as fire shoots from a seemingly infinite maw to scorch the ground where I'd just been standing a second before. I whip an arrow from my quiver as I come back up and follow the dragon, trying to track where it's going to go next. It's nearly impossible to track something that moves this fast, but I've never been one to turn down a challenge like this, and so I narrow my eyes, steady my breathing, and with the smallest of sighs, release my arrow.

I hear an angry roar and an explosion and allow myself a small breath of relief. A small victory, but a victory nonetheless. I can barely run backwards fast enough to avoid the ensuing fireball, and I feel the intense heat even through the leather of my boots.

The ground roils beneath my feet unexpectedly, and I stumble forwards, catching myself on a piece of the crumbling, burning watchtower. Taking a brief moment to catch my breath, I turn towards the source of the rumbling, and see that the dragon has landed not too far away. Snatching my ebony dagger from its sheath and replacing my bow with my shield, I sprint forwards, and with a slightly squeaky, partially terrified and utterly pathetic battle cry, I bring my small ebony blade down directly onto the dragon's hide.

For a moment, I think my blade will break; the dragonscale bounces my dagger back at me, and it's only with time-honed experience that I continue to swing, diving to the side, forwards, and backwards to avoid the fire attacks immediately following each strike. Now that the dragon is grounded, Whiterun's guards focus their attacks directly on the dragon, and it roars directly into my face, with pain, rage, defiance, or a combination of all three. I scream back at it in a combination of anger and terror, blood pumping, lungs gasping for air that I just barely manage to take in, and I swing my dagger one last time.

There is one last roar, and it sounds like it's saying something, but my pulse is sounding so strongly in my ears that I can't make it out. I barely manage to sheath my dagger and replace my shield on my back when I see something happening. I peer more closely at it while Irileth congratulates her men on their excellent shooting. I am more preoccupied with the dragon corpse, where, if my eyes aren't deceiving me, it's started to...smolder.

"What's happening?" Irileth demanded, before calling, "Everyone! Get back!"

And then the most indescribably agony descended upon me.

White-hot flame scorched my veins, and for once my fury was not its source. Words floated in my head, in a language that I did not recognize, and I could barely make them out. My head had to have split down the middle for the amount of heat that concentrated itself there. I thought I might have screamed from the pain, but I couldn't be certain. Finally, a single word came into sharp focus inside my mind.

_Fus._

_Force._

I must have momentarily blacked out, because I saw only darkness when I felt a hand on my shoulder and heard a worried voice, "Odiana, wake up."

I opened my eyes, and the setting sun's rays assailed them. Groaning, I closed my eyes again and covered them with the backs of my hands. Every orifice in my body ached and throbbed, sore beyond imagining. I felt as though I had just been very sick, and had gotten sunburned while sick, and while both of these things had happened, I must have sprinted all the way across Skyrim. There was no other explanation for what had just happened to me.

I ventured a peek outside again, and saw Sethys and Beryn peering carefully at me with wide, frightened eyes. Behind them, my vision was still blurry, but I thought I could make out Irileth's shape, and perhaps a guard behind her.

"Can you help me up?" I managed to croak. My voice sounded awful, rough and overused and tired.

Sethys pulled me up with one hand and gave me his shoulder to lean on, but he was so weak himself that I nearly toppled the both of us over. Beryn came to my other side and supported that arm, and between the two of them, they were able to support me.

Everyone just stared at me for a moment, and I briefly wondered if I'd grown a second head before dismissing such insane notions from my mind. Finally, one of the guards, awestruck, said, "I-I can't believe it. You're..._Dragonborn_."

"Dragonborn?" I rasped, briefly confused before horror settled over me like a thick, cold cape.

"In ancient times, back when there were still dragons in Skyrim..."

_No._

"...the Dragonborn was a hero..."

_This can't be happening._

"...who would slay dragons..."

_This isn't happening._

"...and steal their power, their very souls!"

_Not to me._

"That's what you did, isn't it? Absorbed that dragon's power?" the guard seemed to be getting more and more excited, whereas I was just getting more and more sick.

"I don't..." I swallowed nervously and tried to slow my breathing, "...I don't know what happened to me. It hurts. So much." I winced as I clenched my fingers out of habit and the skin there burned.

"There's only one way to find out, you know." the guard continued.

_This must be a dream. A horrid nightmare._

"Try to Shout." the guard finished. "The legends say only the Dragonborn can Shout the way the dragons do."

I took a deep breath, let it out, took a deep breath, let it out. This had to be some kind of joke. There was no way I was Dragonborn. Me, out of everyone in the whole wide expanse of this world. It just wasn't _possible_.

Then I thought of that mysterious word that had echoed in my head. Fus. Was that a Shout? I was sincerely hoping not. I was really, really praying that this was all just some sort of cruel, absolutely _diabolical_ practical joke. I opened my mouth to write all of this off as being insane, but the word _Fus_ was still heavily on my mind, and before I could stop it, it was being weakly Shouted from my exhausted throat, "_Fus_!"

All the guards who'd been standing in front of me staggered backwards with the force of...whatever I'd just done, a blue shockwave that had, strangely enough, come from me. As much as I didn't want to admit it, I had a sneaking suspicion, even as my stomach dropped into my feet with disappointment and fear, that the guard was right. I was Dragonborn.

I began hyperventilating, and my feet refused to hold me up. I swayed in between Sethys and Beryn for a moment before my eyes rolled back and I passed out.

I slowly came back into awareness of the world. First it was quiet voices, two of them. Oh, thank sweet Meridia, it had been a dream. Sethys and Beryn and I were still at our camp in Silverdrift Lair and they were trying not to awaken me as they probably discussed their strange traveling companion. Then I realized that I was in a bed, and at Silverdrift, I'd slept on the stone floor. Why would I be sleeping in a bed?

And then I was aware of the pain. A burning, throbbing pain that sent little shockwaves throughout my entire body. With the pain, with every throb, came memories. The dragon. The watchtower. Absorbing some kind of power from the slain dragon. Shouting. Me passing out.

_This is no dream._

"I think she's coming back around." I hear a familiar voice, Beryn. She sounds surprisingly worried and scared, oddly enough. I hear light footsteps approaching and feel my hand gently being shaken. "Odiana? Are you awake?"

If I'm not mistaken, the girl sounds on the verge of _tears_! Surely I hadn't been injured _that_ badly.

"Stand out of the way." commanded a voice with a thick, condescending Nordic accent, and I knew instantly who it was. "Odiana, can you hear me?" Farengar Secret-Fire asked, somewhat irritably, as though my being injured was a _massive_ inconvenience.

"Yes." I managed to whisper.

"Can you answer a few questions for the Jarl?" another question was asked.

I wanted to sleep for a year, not answer bloody _questions_, and before I could respond, Beryn's incredulous voice breaks in along with footsteps getting closer to me, "She just_ passed out_ after a battle and can barely _speak_! Can't your questions _wait_?!"

"Stand to the side, elf girl." Farengar ordered, and Beryn fell silent. "Can you answer some questions or not?"

"Yes." I tried my best to sound confident, but it was rather hard to do when laying in a bed feeling like you just got set on fire. "But only a few."

I'd helped Jarl Balgruuf and Farengar one other time, when I'd retrieved the Dragonstone for them nearly a year ago, but hadn't had any contact with them since then, despite my frequent visits to Whiterun on Guild business. "Odiana, I'll be as brief as I can, and then you can rest." Jarl Balgruuf's intimidating tone says in as warm a voice as he can say it in, but I hear the tension vibrating in every word.

"All right." I whisper faintly.

"What happened at the watchtower?"

Well, that was a fairly easy one. "The watchtower was destroyed. Rubble everywhere. I found a surviving guardsman and then the dragon attacked."

"What did it do?" came the second question.

"Total mayhem." my voice seemed to just be getting more hoarse as I talked. "Fire everywhere...nearly got hit myself...dragon was too slow."

"Was the dragon killed?" the third question.

I couldn't answer many more without falling back into unconsciousness. Every word was a massive effort, and my tongue felt leaded down. "Yes." barely audible, I added, "And then I absorbed some kind of power from it. The men called me...Dragonborn."

With that one word, I had everyone's attention. "What do you know about the Dragonborn?" the fourth question. I was fairly certain I'd said 'only a few' but in my half-asleep state, I couldn't be certain.

"...what the men called me." I mumbled, eyes drifting closed again.

I heard fingers snap right by my ear, and I jolted awake again, but I could barely keep my eyelids from drooping. I saw Beryn hanging behind the rest of the crowd, pursing her lips and looking very unsatisfied. I could tell she wanted to intervene again. _Why?_ I asked myself._ Why in Oblivion does __**she**__ care so much? We've done nothing except butt heads ever since we __**met**__!_

"Not just the men." I heard Balgruuf's awed tone, a drastic change from his 'interrogator' one, and he continued, "I suppose you didn't hear the summons, then? You had to still be asleep."

"...summons?" I barely murmured.

His next words nearly made me shoot up in this borrowed bed. "From the Graybeards, masters of the Way of the Voice."

I was frozen, transported to that day when I was six years old, asking my father,_ "Father, what's at the top of that mountain?"_

_"The Graybeards, masters of Shouting. They summon those who have similar abilities"_

_"What's Shouting?" I'd asked, brow furrowing with six-year-old confusion. "I can shout plenty, and they don't summon __**me**__."_

_I remembered my father ruffling my hair and laughing before saying, "No, not shouting, Odie. __**Shouting**__, with a capital 'S'. The only people known to be directly summoned are Dragonborn. Mortals with souls of dragons and the body of a man. Or elf."_

_I wrinkled my tiny, pert nose. "That sounds like a lot of responsibility."_

_"It is, Odie." my father winked at me. "I guess it's a good thing they __**aren't**__ summoning you, since you can barely keep up with the responsibility of your arithmetic."_

That entire conversation came rushing back to me in an instant, and in the end all I could manage through my sorrow and fear was, "The Graybeards?"

"They can teach you how to use your gift." Balgruuf explained. "But before you make the journey to Ivarstead, you should rest and recuperate."

I couldn't imagine walking across the room right now, much less to Ivarstead, and then up a giant mountain. "May I sleep again?" I asked softly, even as my eyes began to close yet again.

"Yes, of course." came the brisk response. "Let's clear out and let her sleep. Someone should stay to keep an eye on her."

"I will." I heard Beryn's voice say softly. Footsteps filed out of the room, and I turned my head to the side, wincing with the pain it brought. Everything was pain, constant pain. _Please let that go away._

"How is she?" I heard Sethys' voice ask from the doorway.

"Asleep." Beryn replied quietly. "I just wish they wouldn't ask her so many questions. Can't they see she needs rest?"

A sigh. "They're men who have to look at the larger picture, Beryn. You should go to sleep too."

"I said I'd watch over her." Beryn responded stubbornly, but I heard her yawn and summoned the strength to speak.

"Go to sleep, Beryn." it sounded somewhat slurred with exhaustion, and I couldn't force my eyes open to see the expression on her face, but I heard her yawn again, rise to her feet, and tread slowly out of the room.

Footsteps approach me. Sethys' voice asks softly, "Are you still awake?"

"Not for much longer." I reply, barely intelligible. On impulse, and out of raw exhaustion and emotion, I add, shakily, "So scared..."

Oddly enough, the last thing I hear before passing out once again is singing, in a soft voice, a song that I do not know, but it lulls me back into the rest I so desperately needed, the briefest of reprieves from the situation I'll have to deal with upon awakening.

One more question floats across my mind lazily as I finally drift off again, though.

_Why do they care so much?_

* * *

**_I promise not every chapter will end with Odiana falling asleep or passing out, but in the past few cases, that's what's worked best!_**

**_I shall see you...NEXT CHAPTER._**


	6. Friends and Destiny

When I next awoke, I was alone. It took me a moment to fully shake myself free of the cobwebs that seemed to have taken up residence in my head, obscuring much coherent thought. However, I also felt quite a bit stronger, and in significantly less pain. The sunburned feeling that my skin had sported when I'd last dozed off had all but vanished, and when I tried to push my quilt to the side, my muscles responded to me surprisingly well.

Carefully swinging my legs over the edge of the bed I'd been sleeping in, my head briefly throbbed before the feeling subsided. I heard the echo of that blasted Shout, _Fus_, in my head as the throbbing faded. Standing, while difficult, and at first somewhat off-balance and unsteady, was not impossible. I stretched all of my limbs experimentally, and a few twinges of pain made me briefly wince, but the pain was quickly replaced by that euphoric feeling you get upon waking up and stretching out fully.

Pleased with my small accomplishments, I headed slowly into the main hall, stumbling only a few times and catching myself on the nearby doorway before straightening myself out. I stop suddenly. What time of day is it? For that matter, how many days have passed? It could be breakfast, dinner, or midnight snack time for all I know, but one way or another, my stomach is telling me to eat, and soon.

Upon reaching the main hall proper with the large tables down the middle, I see the Jarl's court eating something that looks suspiciously like lunch. So I at least slept for twelve hours, likely more.

"Dragonborn." Jarl Balgruuf greeted me politely, but I heard the surprise in his tone as he continued, "We thought you would sleep for at least another day."

"_Another_ day?" I asked, rubbing my eyes. I freeze when I register what the Jarl called me. "_What_ did you call me?" I whispered. I'd always been known as Odiana in this court. I had never stood on formality with my family's name, and certainly not titles.

"Pardon?" I hadn't asked my question loudly enough. Well, allow me to fix that.

"What...did you _call_ me?" my yell was raspy with the effort it took to produce, but it was there. I didn't even bat an eyelid that I'd just yelled at a _Jarl_. "My name is _Odiana_, my Jarl. Not Dragonborn, not Lady Dragonborn, and certainly not Lady Odiana the Dragonborn." I clenched my fists and jaw as tightly as I could; I felt the pressure on my teeth and briefly wondered if I would actually shatter them this time. "I...am Odiana. I would _prefer_ to be called as such."

"The Jarl will call you whatever he pleases, _Dragonborn_." Irileth retorted coldly from her seat. Oh, she was just _begging_ to test out my new Shouting ability.

Before I could deliver my newfound brand of Dragonborn-style justice, however, I heard Sethys' somewhat-familiar voice saying, from behind me, "You're awake!"

I turned to see him beaming widely, and I noticed how much better he looked than the first time I'd seen him. It once again raised the persistent question of how long I'd been asleep. "Sethys," I said, completely ignoring the Jarl's court, "how long was I sleeping?"

"Well, it's the middle of your third day, so two full days and half of a third." he replied cheerfully. "Feeling better?"

I was shocked. Two _days_? Even when sick as a child, I'd never slept that long straight through. I shook myself free of my disbelief and managed to reply to his question with a long, drawn-out, "Yeah..." I paused, then ventured, "Do you know where my armor and weapons got to?"

Instantly, the smile drops from his face and he says, "Surely you're not leaving already?"

I shrugged. "Why not? You and your sister made it safely to Whiterun, and I've rested up enough to be back on the road." The first part of that sentence was the absolute truth. Both of them had made it safely thanks to me, not that I would ever mention that. It was the second part that I wasn't entirely sure of. I could encounter all manner of danger on Skyrim's roads, and taking the road from Whiterun meant that I'd be passing through the Reach, at least for a short while, and the Reach was wild country these days with Forsworn, sabre cats, wolves, wild bears, and even the odd troll. My weapons and armor were certainly up to caliber...but I wasn't entirely sure about myself.

Sethys looked like he didn't completely believe me, but he asked, "Where are you planning on going?"

"Solitude." I replied briskly. "I had business to conduct there before escorting you here, and I need to see it completed lest my..." I search for a euphemism to describe Mercer, "..._employer_ get anxious. I've been off the grid longer than he anticipated. If I'm going to get moving, I'll need my armor and weapons."

"Are you really sure you should be heading all the way to Solitude so soon?" he narrows his red eyes at me, and where most would be intimidated, I do not flinch. "You've just recently been through the wringer."

"So have you." I pointed out.

"But Beryn and I will be staying here." Sethys countered. "We can get all the rest we want, provided we find work soon." He paused, and an idea seemed to occur to him. "Wait, perhaps Beryn or I could travel with you to Solitude. That way, at least you'd have someone to watch your back."

"No!" I snarled. "Why can't you just get started with your own new life and and leave mine _alone_?!"

Even for me, it was uncharacteristically mean. The entire hall had fallen silent, and Sethys looked as though I'd struck him with a lightning bolt right between the eyes: shocked, surprised...and a little hurt. "I-" I stammered, unable to find words. I snapped my jaw closed before I can say anything else stupid or awful and stalk out, trembling uncontrollably. I went all the way to the markets in the Plains District before stopping and wondering where I should go next to clear my head. Eventually, almost without my thinking about it, I found myself on top of the guards' barracks by the front gate. I stared over the city's wall, kicking my feet absently, completely and utterly lost in thought.

"Here's your stuff."

I look slowly over my shoulder with a long-suffering sigh to see Beryn carrying all of my armor, as well as my dagger and quiver of Sunhallowed arrows atop my upturned shield, which she is carrying like a tray. My bow is slung over one of her shoulders, in the manner that I usually carry it in, myself. "Thanks." I replied. I'd intended it to come out more curt and short, but instead it emerged from my lips with a mind of its own, sorrowful and guilty and quiet. I expected Beryn to just drop my things and walk away, but I hear the gentle scraping sound of metal being gently lowered to wood and then light footsteps as she comes to sit next to me, dangling her shorter legs off the side as well.

After ten minutes, I can't take the silence anymore and ask, "Why are you out here?" I nearly add her name to the end of the question out of social habit, but names mean attachment and familiarity, and I'll be leaving before too long. I likely won't ever see the two of them again, except in occasional passing. Perhaps not even then. The thought that I may never see the two of them is strangely saddening, and I shove the feeling into the deepest crevice in my heart, where most of my worldly feelings are shoved.

Beryn grins and asks teasingly, "What, you're the only one who can sit on this roof?"

"No." I groused. I got to my feet, reorganized my somewhat scattered belongings despite Beryn's best effort to set everything down neatly, pick it all up with slightly-shaky arms, and continue, "I'll just get out of your way. I need to leave, anyway."

As I meandered down the wooden ramp, carefully balancing everything on my shield, Beryn's voice drifted down at me, "You know, it's not a bad thing to have friends!"

Friends. When was the last time I even _had_ friends to call my own? I find myself at a loss for words and eventually gather myself to call back up, "You don't want me to be your friend, Beryn. You or your brother." I realized too late that I'd added her name to my sentence, but I couldn't snatch the words back from open air.

Beryn leaped down from the roof gracefully and planted her fists on her hips. "I'd say that's up to me and my brother, or are you going to boss us around over that, too?" she raises an eyebrow questioningly at me.

"It's not my job to boss you around, Beryn!" I shook my head with frustration. "I was trying to keep you alive!"

"Why?" she asked, her eyebrow still in its inquisitive position.

"Because you were starting a new life! It's hard to do that when you're dead!"

Beryn shrugged. "But that's little consequence to you, right? You're just a traveler who had two strangers tag along for the ride. We could die in the first few minutes and you'd still be on your merry way."

I opened and closed my mouth a few times, trying to grasp at words that I can force into a logical argument. "But I-I couldn't-I mean, I'd be haunted with guilt-"

"So you cared." Beryn cracked a small smile. "Not just the ornery traveler, then? You, a single traveler, agreed to take two piteous Dunmer to Whiterun to start a better life. You _cared_. It's not a bad thing to care, Odiana, and it's not a bad thing to have friends, either."

"I don't have friends." I replied flatly.

This time, her eyebrows switched positions. "Oh?" she asked. "And why's that?"

I can't hold in the words any longer that have been pushing at my emotional barriers for years, and I burst out, "Because I don't _deserve_ friends! I _had_ friends, and they all died because of me, because I couldn't save them, because I wasn't _good_ enough! I couldn't save _any_ of them and-" I cut myself off and continue more faintly, "Look, the point is, you both could do a lot better than me, and I think it would be best if I just left."

"_Everyone_ deserves friends, Odiana." Beryn stated.

"Maybe I did a long time ago." I replied, my voice sounded hollow and forced, "But now I do the most good to everyone alone." I pushed my way past Beryn with all of my things in hand; they were starting to weigh me down.

"Sethys and I will be at the Bannered Mare tonight!" Beryn called after me. "I hope we'll see you there."

I didn't respond, shifting the weight of my gear to a more comfortable position as I walked. I went just up the road, to the archery supplies store run by Elrindir, and asked his permission to use his upstairs room to re-equip myself. I fastened the multitude of buckles that kept my cuirass tightly secured, and upon tightening the last of my boot buckles, stood up and retrieved my shield, attaching it to its familiar spot on my back, my bow over my right shoulder and my dagger at my side. For all intents and purposes, I looked ready to hit the road. Yet something held me back.

_Archery supplies. I should get more arrows._

Of course, that would mean a lengthy trip up to the Forgotten Vale to have them sanctified, a trip I wasn't sure I could make. I could just put them in the same quiver, of course, but in the heat of battle I might need one of my exploding arrows, only to grab an ordinary one instead. Arrows were out. I had plenty, anyway.

_Potions. You'll be going on a long journey. You'll need stamina potions._

Arcadia, the Imperial alchemist who ran a small, quaint store in the Plains District had plenty of stamina potions, nearly all of which I bought. The entire transaction had taken less than ten minutes to complete.

_All right, you're ready to go now._

_Although...I have been meaning to see how Danica is doing..._

I trekked back up the stairs to the temple of Kynareth. The Gildergreen bloomed brightly thanks to the sap I'd retrieved at Eldergleam Sanctuary, and it added a splash of cool lavender color to the warm city constructed of white stone and pale wood. Danica was busy when I went into the temple; there was a wounded soldier and a very sick farmer that appeared to be in dire need of assistance. I quietly backed out without disturbing anyone.

_No more putting it off. Solitude awaits, and you're already behind schedule as it is._

"Schedule." I muttered to myself. "Like Mercer's keeping a bloody _schedule_ on me."

I cast a glance to the sky. It was mid-afternoon still, and I knew that if I left now, I could be at least to Rorikstead by nightfall, which was a good resting point to get to Dragon Bridge, and from there to Solitude. The entire journey itself wouldn't take me any longer than a few days at most, moving at a dead walk, and I will likely recover some of my lost strength on this journey, meaning I'll be able to pick up the pace a bit more.

Having made up my mind, I re-affixed my bow to its proper position on my shoulder, and started off.

Whiterun's roads were quiet; so few people came down because of the civil war. Everyone on both sides knew that Whiterun was a prime target, and that it'd had a 'neutral' flag on it for far too long. No one wanted to risk being there when violence finally erupted. I harbored no such fears. I could take care of myself, even in a city siege. Although, come to think of it, I've never _been_ in a city siege. Interesting. Something I haven't done. Quite the rarity these days.

Passing by the watchtower, hairs stood up on the back of my neck. Banners had been re-hung, irreparable rubble cleared away and repurposed rubble turned into building blocks that repaired walkways and other cracked walls. Charred wooden targets had been replaced, and a few guards ambled about, making their rounds.

Yet, the dragon's skeleton still lay, casting harsh shadows in the mid-afternoon sunlight. Its head was tilted in such a way that the maw still appeared to be open, and I half-expected it to start breathing fire at me again.

I shook myself out of it and started off again, trying to put all thoughts of the dragon and being Dragonborn from my mind. It was a pleasant afternoon; the scent of wildflowers and tundra cotton pervaded my nostrils with its pleasant sweetness, and I breathed it in gratefully, glad to be out of the city. Open though it was, I much preferred the _truly_ open spaces, where you could look up and see all the stars, every constellation picked out as though someone had drawn them there with a massive quill and silvery-white ink, every aurora more strikingly unique than the one preceding it.

The sun was closely approaching the plains right as I reached Gjukar's monument, and torchbugs sporadically lit the air around me with yellow-green pinpoints. I turned my gaze towards the monument and stopped for a moment. Legend said that Gjukar had been a great warrior who fought a monumental battle at this site, and that all of his men were obliterated. What he was fighting for and who he was fighting against were lost to time, but as far as we were concerned, Gjukar had been a hero. He'd stood up against what had to have been lopsided odds if he'd lost so tragically as to have a monument built for him, and he'd stood and fought when it would have probably been wiser to flee.

My feet carried me unconsciously towards the stone spire, and as I approached, in the faint, dusky light, I saw assorted offerings. Kneeling down to get a better look I saw a coin purse, a few native mountain flowers, an amulet of Talos, and two pieces of a broken sword, the blade and the hilt. It appeared quite old; rust nearly covered the entire thing. It also had to have been used; the break on the sword looked like it had been twisted, perhaps snapped in a battle years ago. An offering truly worthy of a hero, never mind the coin purses or flowers.

I got to my feet, ready to resume my journey to Rorikstead, when an undeniable truth pierced through, loud and clear. Gjukar knew he would die in that battle. He knew he faced certain death, and he charged in alongside his friends anyway because he had something worth fighting for.

_Yeah, and?_ I questioned my subconscious irritably. _The difference is he __**had**__ friends. __**And**__ he was a hero._

I tried to take another step forward, to put this out of my mind and get on with Guild business, because that was what I _really_ cared about, what I _really_ needed to get done...

I turned my gaze to the Throat of the World, far in the distance, tip shrouded with clouds like it had been when I was six years old and had asked my father what was up there. I had been summoned there, by the Graybeards themselves. My father told me they summoned those with similar gifts. I had been summoned. It was my destiny to go.

_It was never a destiny I asked for...but I don't necessarily have to fulfill it alone._

I whipped around and took off as fast as I could, my feet flying over the cobblestone as the sun set with its purplish-orange rays of light, headed back to Whiterun.

By the time I made it back, Masser and Secunda had already risen, slim crescents dangling in the inky sky as if by a thread. I was gasping and wheezing for breath; I was a good sprinter, but sprinting all the way from Gjukar's monument back here had taken its toll on my admittedly-weakened body. I made a beeline for the Bannered Mare, where Beryn had said she and her brother would be. Meridia willing, I wasn't too late.

Still trying to catch my breath, I slid quietly into the inn to the sound of a lute. I scanned the room with my hood up, remaining in the shadows until I had determined whether or not Beryn and Sethys were here.

There. I saw Beryn's slightly-familiar form in her ragged mage robe hunched near the fire, warming her hands. I stepped further into the light and lowered my hood, waiting for her to notice me. I kept my stony facade on my face as Beryn looked up, back down, and then did a perfect double-take, her pleased grin overtaking her face. She elbowed Sethys, who sat next to her, staring into the fire absentmindedly. He looked up, spotted me, and sat up straighter, facial expression unchanged. Wincing, I knew I owed him an apology for what I'd said earlier today, but it wouldn't be an easy thing for anyone involved.

"I need to talk to both of you." I murmured, out of earshot of any other curious patrons, and nodded towards the room next door. I went in and half-expected to turn around and find myself alone. But no, Beryn and Sethys were both standing there, practically identical with their arms crossed and one eyebrow raised in questioning. The only difference was that Beryn's right eyebrow was raised to Sethys' left.

I gulped and began, "I know the last thing I deserve after everything I've said is help, but I need you to hear me out." I turned to Sethys first, cleared my throat awkwardly, and managed to get out, "Look, I-I'm sorry, you know, for what I-"

He waved his hand in a dismissive motion. "Don't worry about that. What do you need our help with?"

I was so unaccustomed to such easy assistance that I nearly choked up with their support, but I continued, "I'm going to talk to the Graybeards."

I could tell I'd struck them right between the eyes with that, and before they could ask any questions, I hurriedly pressed on.

"I didn't want this. I still don't. I'm the _worst_ possible choice to be a hero of any sort. But the Graybeards summoned me, and I'm not about to ignore them just because I didn't _want_ to go." I bite my lip apprehensively. "I'll probably be complaining and grousing and finding every little thing wrong along the way...but I'd like the two of you to come with me."

We are all silent for a moment, in which I'm certain they're thinking of ways to reject me without hurting my feelings, and I look down at my boots and wince in preparation for the words. I couldn't be more surprised with Sethys' response.

"So, when do we leave?"

My gaze shoots back up to the two of them, and they're both grinning with calm determination. "Um, I was-I was going to leave tomorrow, but if you're not ready-"

"Tomorrow it is, then." Sethys replied. "But I'd like to get some better armor and weapons first."

"I might also like to find a mage's robe that isn't so scraggly." Beryn muttered.

"Of-of course. Absolutely." I said, still disbelieving that they're agreeing to help me, agreeing to trek all the way up the tallest mountain in _Tamriel_ for me. "We'll take care of all that first thing tomorrow, and then we'll be on our way."

I went to the innkeeper, Hulda, and asked to rent a room for a night, so we'd all start off from the same place. I sat in the chair by my rented bed and tried to gather my thoughts. Tomorrow, I would be on my way to meet the Graybeards.

Tomorrow, I would begin my journey to find out what it meant to be Dragonborn.

Tomorrow, I would start to follow my destiny.

* * *

_**All right, this is a slightly longer chapter to make up for the fact I likely won't be posting one tomorrow; I'll be super busy and I need to set this story aside for a while to get things done. Getting more things done tomorrow means more story-writing time after that.**_

_**Giant THANK YOUS go out to both SkyrimJunkie and birgittesilverbow, who both reviewed and alerted this story, and motivate me with their support. More motivation means more chapters...hint hint, nudge nudge.**_

_**As always, I shall see you all who may be reading this...NEXT CHAPTER.**_


	7. Hero-To-Be

_**Slightly boring and short chapter ahead, but I promise the next one will have a bit more interesting stuff. I have also been falling behind on my postings, and likely will be behind until exams are finished at the end of next week. Provided everything goes as planned, I hope to be posting one chapter of around 2,000-4,000 words per day during the holiday.**_

* * *

Well, today I _was_ going to start to follow my destiny, honest, but Meridia bless, I didn't have to _like_ it.

I was the only one awake in the Bannered Mare; even Hulda had gone to sleep and left her barmaid in charge. The normally comforting and blazing hearth had reduced itself to a few glowing embers. In their flickering light, I paced the floor anxiously.

On the one hand, I wanted to get moving as soon as possible. The sooner we were moving, the sooner I'd have some answers as to what had just happened to me. On the other, I knew I should rest and gather my strength like Beryn and Sethys were, but I could only force myself to attempt sleep for a few hours before giving up and coming back downstairs, where I was now pacing a line into the floor. I had the fleeting idea that I could go out and get all the equipment we'd need before departing, but a quick glance out the door confirmed that no one would open their doors to business for a few hours yet. So I continued to pace.

My mind was filled with a million half-questions that I still tried to form answers to, and occasionally my thoughts even drifted back over the past ten years and how I'd come to this point, wondering if anything I had done in the past had condemned me to be punished in this way now. It was the exhaustion that brought the paranoia.

Hours ticked by like days, and when I finally opened the doors for what seemed like the thousandth time in that infinite night, I heard the faint sound of a hammer hitting metal. The blacksmith's, at least, was open. I jogged out, nearly buzzing with energy, and found myself simply jogging around the city as the sun slowly rose. I didn't feel that energetic; I normally wouldn't be able to run around the city _twice_, let alone the five times and counting that I was currently doing. I wasn't energetic, I was exhausted in fact, so where in Meridia's name was all this energy coming from?

I think I recognized the answer even as I asked myself the question. It was _nervous_ energy. But what was I nervous about? I was going to talk to some musty old monks about whatever had happened to me at the watchtower. That said, _'whatever had happened'_ appeared to mark me for a destiny involving Meridia-knows-what, likely using whatever power I discovered, with a title that even, in itself, sounds terrifying, and even the _guards_ seem to know more about it than I do.

...Yes, I can definitely believe that this is nervous energy.

On my tenth lap around the city, I quickly looked up at the sky, and seeing the position of the sun, cursed under my breath before sprinting back to the inn. Sethys and Beryn are probably awake by now, which means they're wondering where I got to. If they _aren't_ up yet...they're about to get a very rude awakening.

I flitted up the stairs to the room I knew Beryn and Sethys had shared, hammering on the door with my bony fist. "Rise and shine, you two!" I called. "Daylight's burning and we're not on the road yet."

I heard muffled grumbling from inside, and then Beryn was glaring at me. "Do you have _any_ idea what time it is?" she huffed, her hair mussed from sleep.

"Time for us to be on the road to Ivarstead." I stated.

Beryn muttered something incoherent, and then vanished for a moment before she was pulling Sethys along, who still appeared half-asleep. "Wha...?" he trailed off, still trying to wake himself up.

"We'll eat on the way, but we have to make _very_ quick stops to re-outfit you guys." I began, heading back downstairs briskly with the two of them stumbling behind me. I pulled a substantially-sized coinpurse from one of the pockets in my armor and handed it to Sethys. "That should buy you anything ranging from steel to orcish." I informed him. "Beryn will be with me; we're going to Dragonsreach for the mage's robes and I'm not certain how much they cost. We regroup at the Gildergreen in half an hour. _Move!_" My last order had the crack of a whip in the back of my tone, and we all continued a bit more lively.

Beryn looked up at the sky in amazement as we walked, nearly jogging. "Did we really sleep _that_ late?"

"Yes." I replied.

"How late were you up?" Beryn panted, struggling to keep up.

"Didn't really sleep at all."

Beryn nearly stopped, a look of absolute _incredulity_ on her face. "No sleep at _all_?" she demanded. "How are you still _functioning_?"

"Magic." I retorted sourly.

"_Someone's_ in a sunny mood this morning." Beryn muttered. I chose not to reply, and we jogged the rest of the way to Dragonsreach in silence.

Jarl Balgruuf and Irileth didn't appear to be in the main hall just yet, but his steward, Proventus, was. He appeared engrossed in updating some kind of record book, so I ignored the main hall entirely and sought out Farengar in his laboratory. To my surprise, he appeared to be talking with someone, a Breton woman perhaps, with a brown leather hood concealing her facial features.

"...convinced this is a copy of a much older text, perhaps one from just after the Dragon War." Farengar was saying, more excited than I'd ever seen him. "If so, we can use this text to cross-reference names with later texts."

The woman replied, in a low voice that reeked of clandestine activity, "Good. It's nice that you're making progress. My employers are in dire need of solid answers. The Dragonstone you found was also very helpful, but I'll need more information."

"Oh, have no fear." Farengar assured briskly, "The Jarl himself has finally taken an interest in this research, so I am able to spend most of my time on it."

"Don't forget, this isn't some theoretical question, Farengar." the woman warned, standing straight from where she'd been leaning over the table. "Dragons have returned."

This time, Farengar sounded more like himself, bored and condescending. "Yes, yes, of course. The chance to see a living dragon would be immensely valuable, though." He finally noticed mine and Beryn's prescence, and he asked flatly, "Help you with something?"

I motioned to Beryn. "I need to buy some better mage robes for her. For obvious reasons. Ideally adept-level Destruction, but apprentice-level is also acceptable."

Beryn remained silent, instead studying the Breton woman with a scrutinizing crimson gaze. She frowned, and I got the feeling that a memory was eluding her. Had she encountered the woman before? I made a mental note to ask her later.

"Yes, yes, there's some in the room back there. Take your pick." Farengar waved dismissively at one of the back rooms and turned back to the Breton, who was now also eyeing Beryn.

Instantly suspicious, I pushed in front of Beryn and snapped at the Breton woman, "Excuse me, but I don't believe we have any sort of business to discuss. If you would quit staring at us like you _do_, that would be much appreciated."

Without hesitation, the Breton woman retorted back at me coolly, "I don't think you could do anything to stop me. You're just like every other Nord here: all talk and no action."

Furious, I was half-tempted to use my Shout on her, but suppressed the feeling. Instead, I clenched my teeth and took a step forward, but I felt a hand on my elbow and turned to see Beryn's face, unmoving as a stone. She shook her head at me slowly._ Don't start anything you won't have time to finish._

I nodded back once, jerkily, accepting her judgment before yanking my arm free from her light grip and shoving the Breton woman in the shoulder with my own. She stumbled and I cast a quick glance behind me with a sly smile on my face, grabbing a set of apprentice-level robes for Beryn and tossing them to her. I walked back out of the room to let Beryn change and managed to wing the woman in the shoulder again as I passed. I could almost feel her smoldering glare on my back, but I ignored it, waiting for Beryn to reappear. There were plenty of undesirable people in the world, and she was obviously one of them.

Once Beryn emerged from the back room, newly outfitted in her apprentice robes, she strode up and stood for my inspection. "Well?" she asked.

"It's fine." I muttered. "Let's go."

Beryn shrugged, and the two of us headed back to the Gildergreen, where Sethys paced in a suit of steel armor. Simple and tough, excellent for traveling. I nodded with approval, and then jerked my head for him to follow.

If the guards wondered about a small, strange group of an archer, a warrior, and a mage leaving town heavily armed with looks of grim determination on their faces, they wisely didn't comment or ask where we were headed. The start of our journey to Ivarstead was very similar to the start of our journey to Whiterun, slow and rather boring. However, like the start of our last journey, the scenery was an excellent distraction. It was almost noon, and although it hardly ever got hot in Skyrim, even in Whiterun, it was just mild enough to put me in a slightly more agreeable temper. I picked a purple mountain flower and sniffed it for a moment before looking at it, making a decision. I could either toss the flower to the side of the road and keep walking, or I could tuck the flower behind my ear, like I admittedly _wanted_ to do, very badly, and not care what either of my travel companions thought about it.

The sound of the stoneflesh spell being cast snapped me out of my thoughts. Beryn was casting a firebolt at an approaching bandit, and I tossed the flower aside without a second thought to shoot an arrow at another bandit who was attempting to flank her. Sethys pulled a brand-new Dwemer sword from its sheath and charged with significantly more technique and skill than the last time I saw him fight, in Silverdrift Lair. He must have been training with the guards briefly, while I'd been recovering.

Another of my arrows eliminated the last one, and there was silence again. Once again, I was caught by surprise with two others that I-frustratingly enough-felt obligated to protect, and while the threat had been minor, I'd still been distracted. Distractions get you killed.

"Injuries?" I asked briskly.

"I'm good." Beryn chirped with a small grin.

"None here." Sethys replied.

"Good. Let's keep moving." I nodded my head back towards the road, and this time we moved at a light jog, instead of our relaxed walk. Something had shifted in our journey, almost imperceptibly, but I caught it. We were taking this seriously. Very seriously. Yes, it had just been a bandit attack, not really an actual threat, but it seemed to hit the feeling home that we were on a big journey, not just some jaunt to Whiterun. If I'm not wrong, this could be the start of a journey that changes the course of the whole world.

"No pressure." I muttered to myself.

"What was that, Odiana?" Beryn asked cheerfully, jogging up to keep pace with me.

I found I couldn't share her enthusiasm. "What has _you_ so chipper?" I grumbled.

"It's a beautiful day!" Beryn exclaimed, practically _skipping_ alongside me. "We're on this journey that lets us be outside in this beautiful weather. We all have companionship now! What's there _not_ to like about today?"

_Oh, I don't know, how about the fact that we're on our way to an ancient monastery to possibly change the fate of the world?_

Instead of saying that, however, I asked, "Are you sure you made the right decision, coming along with me? I mean, you planned to start your new life in Whiterun. It'll be kind of hard to do that if you're here with me."

"Honestly?" Beryn shrugged, "I'd rather be out and about than stuck in the city, and I'm sure you can sympathize."

I could, but it didn't change the fact that they'd decided to possibly abandon their new life for my sake. What kind of selfish person was I, to take them with me on this possibly-deadly journey after I'd taken them to Whiterun for the express purpose of keeping them alive?

I turned to the both of them. "You know, on second thought, it might be better if I went on alone. After all, you wouldn't want to be missed in Whiterun."

"We won't be missed." Sethys replied calmly.

"But don't you think you should-" I tried to argue my case again.

"Odiana." Sethys interrupted me. I remained silent, and once he seemed certain that I wouldn't disrupt him, he continued, "If we didn't want to be here right now, we wouldn't be. We full well know the risks that are associated with traveling, even to such a remote and unknown location. Besides," Sethys grinned at me dryly, "this is the most exciting thing to happen to us in a long time. We've been needing some excitement."

"I just think that-" I attempted to protest again, but was once again rather rudely cut short by Sethys. What he said next, though, turned my blood cold.

"You're not getting rid of us, Odie." Sethys tried for a teasing tone, but I was only focused on what he'd called me.

I stopped and whipped around so quickly that Sethys ran into me and Beryn kept going for a few paces before she realized we'd stopped. "Do not..._ever_...call me that." I ordered, jabbing my index finger into the chest piece of his steel armor menacingly for emphasis. "No one will _ever_ call me that again. Do I make myself clear?"

Sethys looked quite confused, and while I could understand why, the painful and all-too-clear memories that flashed through my mind clouded all sense and judgment, and I continued to glare at him with a hysterical gaze until he shook his head, bewildered. "All right...but I'm afraid I don't-"

"I'm not discussing this." I said, more quietly but with no less intensity. "To you, I am Odiana, and no one else. Odie is _not_ my name. Got it?"

I received a silent nod in response, and before he could say anything else, or ask any unwanted questions, I took off at a slightly more brisk jog.

Although the scenery was indeed, as always, quite beautiful, I couldn't focus on it anymore. The last time anyone had ever called me 'Odie' surfaced in my mind, long buried after nearly seven years.

_"Odie, it's time to come out. You can trust me."_

No. I couldn't trust him anymore. No matter how badly I wanted to. No matter if he was even still alive or if he was dead and my search was for naught. Dawnstar had turned up nothing, but perhaps I was just looking in the wrong places. I wondered if I could pursue any other leads while I was out and about, but with a quick glance cast back at my traveling companions, I knew that I wouldn't be able to do much without being asked questions I didn't want to answer. Suppressing a sigh, I picked up my pace again.

We proceeded at that steady pace for a little over an hour before Beryn caught up with me. Her face wasn't nearly as excited or bright as it had been earlier. "Can we...can we stop for just a little while?" She panted, trying to breathe and talk to me at the same time.

I nodded once, jerkily, and slowed to a walk before stopping completely and looking for a good resting point, off the road. I froze with shock and horror when I realized where we were.

I'd been so lost in thought that I hadn't even noticed when we passed through Riverwood, but we must have at some point, because I saw something that I had avoided thinking about for the past year. There, in the distance, sat the innocuous small town that I would have lost my head in, that I would have been parboiled by a dragon's fire, that I would have nearly died at the hands of the misguided Imperials.

There, in the distance, sat Helgen.

* * *

**_All right, so a few things happened this chapter. Next chapter, we find out a bit more about Odiana's past._**

**_And, as always, feedback is much appreciated._**

**_I shall see all of you...NEXT CHAPTER! (Which will hopefully be a bit more entertaining than this one!)_**


	8. Ghosts

**_Well, lookee here. Looks like I managed to get a chapter up during exam week. :-D Enjoy!_**

* * *

"Odiana? Are you all right?"

Beryn had wandered up to my side without my knowing, and when I turned towards her, I imagined I looked exactly like I felt: apprehensive, lost in memories, and more than a little terrified. But what I said, instead of expressing my fear, was "I'm fine. We can make camp inside that keep. I know where to go."

_Yes, after running through those halls for my life, I know __**exactly**__ where to go._

"When was the last time you were here?" Sethys asked as we approached the desolate village.

"A little over a year ago." I replied, only half paying attention.

"Just before the dragon attacked, I imagine." Sethys remarked. "I suppose you got lucky on that point."

I bit my lip contemplatively. Just because I had asked them to travel with me didn't mean I had to share all my secrets. Yet, Helgen was hardly a secret. "Actually, I was there. For the dragon attack."

Sethys' gaze whipped towards me, but I focused on the road, drawing my bow as a precaution. I didn't know what could have taken up residence here during my year-long absence. "Look, I'll explain the whole story tonight." I said quietly. It wasn't really a lie. It was a half-truth. I would tell him about Helgen, I just wouldn't tell him what I'd been doing when I'd been captured at the border. "But first, we need to clear this place out."

Sethys nodded and drew his Dwemer sword. Beryn raised her hands and moved her fingers in the first motion of a firebolt spell. I tested the door and found it locked, surprisingly enough. If it was locked, it stood to reason that the village was inhabited. Likely by bandits, since there shouldn't have been anyone else here to lock the gates.

And, well, the spikes with decomposed human bodies impaled on them was also a good clue.

"Bandits." I grumbled. "Get ready."

I quickly and deftly picked the gate lock and swung it open, snatching an arrow from my quiver just as a very surprised bandit's face appeared. Without hesitation, I released my arrow, but one of the disadvantages of using the Sunhallowed arrows was that they tended to draw quite a bit of attention, and not necessarily in a good way. A giant explosion of sun energy is pretty noticeable, especially when it's exploding in your comrade's body. Bandits called out to one another, and I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that we'd been found out.

_Probably could have handled that a bit more...diplomatically, Odie. Worry about that later. Now then...first target._

I dove behind the gate again and leaned my head around to get a better idea of what I was dealing with and how I wanted to deal with it. There were a few obvious targets, but I skimmed right over them, looking for the more challenging ones...or the most powerful ones. Take out the leaders, and the rest are without an organized leadership. It's almost comical to pick them off as the run screaming in terror.

Have I mentioned that I have a somewhat odd and possibly deranged sense of humor?

Sethys was across from me, on the other side of the gate. He called across to me, "What do you see from there?"

"A few obvious targets, but I'm looking for the more difficult ones." I narrowed my eyes and didn't look at him as I replied, focusing on all my targets. There were four in plain sight, and as I watched, Beryn charred one of them with her firebolts from somewhere above me. That meant she was exposed.

_Dammit, Beryn. You're not making my life easy._

I shot arrow after arrow from my bow, and sun-fire explosions heralded death after death of several bandits. I slowly pushed forward, and when it seemed like all the long-range enemies had been dealt with, Sethys emerged from his cover behind the gate and engaged whoever he could find in the courtyard. I knew that to clear the whole place out, we'd have to circle around the courtyard and head for that main tower, the one where I'd fled after the immediate chaos of the dragon attack. Once that area was clear, we could regroup and head back around to the keep itself, where we would hopefully make camp for the night.

Of course, that was assuming that everything would go according to plan.

As soon as I stepped into the courtyard where, a year ago, I had been kneeling in front of a chopping block, I felt frozen. My feet would not move; I could only stand helpless and be assailed by memory after memory of that horrendous day.

"_Odiana!_" I heard someone shout. Someone distant. Someone unimportant.

_I'd had a lead that pointed me to Skyrim. I made the mistake of trying to cross through the pass and been captured. I had been taken here, but I wasn't about to let that stop me. I had to find him, and if I had to escape from a cart with my hands bound, so be it. They had asked me who I was. At first I told them it was none of their damn business, and then one of them clocked me on the head. I think I told them my name._

_I watched a Stormcloak get beheaded. Then they called for me._

_I hadn't been expecting to get called so soon. I'd expected more time to come up with my escape. I'd been expecting more. But they'd called my name, and I had no choice but to go. The Imperial Captain had shoved me to my knees before placing her boot on my back and forcing my neck into the pre-carved curve in the stone._

_It was still hot and wet with sticky red blood._

_I had seen that axe raise high in the air, faced with the headsman's dead eyes, and I knew right then that I was done. Even I couldn't escape from this._

_And then, there had been the dragon._

_Everything had exploded in an intense rush of chaos, fire, and rage. It was all I could do to just run, not even try to clean the blood off the side of my neck from the headsman's block. I had just run, and kept running. I must have found something to free my hands along the way, because I remember fighting with a pilfered war axe, armored in Stormcloak leathers. But mostly, I had kept running._

_"It's what you do best, isn't it, Odiana?" I hear that same mocking voice ask, that one from my dreams who tells someone to set the forest on fire as I run. Again._

_But he's not here. He can't be. He wasn't there that day._

"_Odiana!_ Azura curse you,_ get out of the way!_"

I snapped back into awareness and forced my feet to move, not even sure of where I was moving, just that I had to _move_. It must have been Beryn who had shouted at me before. Before I'd been entranced with that day, just about a year ago, that day I'd tried so hard to forget.

_**Focus**__, damn you! You're becoming a liability._

I shook myself out of it, if only briefly, and whipped another arrow out. Leaning around the doorway, I was faced with the bandit chief, rushing in. I had no time to prepare and was knocked to the ground before I could shoot my arrow. Not that it would have done me much good anyway; I would have been burned and there was no guarantee that the arrow would have even killed the bandit chief.

My hand reached quickly down for my ebony dagger, since I knew I wouldn't be able to reach my shield in time, and suddenly the tip of a dwarven sword appeared from his midsection. The bandit chief looked down, coughed slightly, and then the blade was pulled free with a wet, metallic sliding sound. His body fell to the side and Sethys stood in his place, just a shadowy silhouette in the doorway. He approached me and offered a hand to get up, but I shoved myself to my feet irritably and stalked past him.

"Are we clear?" I demanded once I was sure Sethys was following me.

"Out here, yes." Sethys replied briskly. "Inside the keep? We haven't checked yet."

I can feel his eyes on me, and I know he wants to ask about what happened in the courtyard, when I'd frozen to the spot beyond usefulness, but I have no intention of broaching the subject here, when there still might be bandits lurking around.

"Let's move, then." I said, pursing my lips tightly together. "Let's hope that was the last of them."

The three of us headed into the keep with trepidation, weapons drawn-or spells prepared, in Beryn's case-and I suggested that we split up to cover more ground. They could only fit so many bandits in one room, I reasoned, and we were more than capable of taking them out in groups of one or two. Sethys glanced from me to his sister, and I knew he was deciding which one of us he wanted to travel with. His sister was the most vulnerable, so I quickly turned and strode away, hoping I made it clear that he was supposed to go with her.

Crouching down, I leaned carefully around the doorway, arrow held loosely in my bowstring. I saw two bandits sitting at a table, in close proximity to one another. If I shot that arrow in the right place, it might do enough collateral burn damage to kill both of them at once. I swiftly released the arrow and swept into the room itself right as the last of the sun-fire faded away. Both bandits lay dead, smoking ever so slightly from the intense burn, and gagging on the scent of newly-burned flesh, I headed into the next area.

I methodically killed. Arrow after arrow, dagger thrust after dagger thrust, shield bash after shield bash, I cleared my half of what used to be Helgen. I stood in front of the cave entrance that had promised me freedom that day, and it took considerable effort to force myself to turn around and walk back to where Sethys and Beryn would be waiting.

They were sitting in the room that must have been a crew's barracks, since it had beds and a table with food that still looked relatively fresh. They sat next to one another, eating and apparently lost in thought, but Beryn's ear twitched and she looked up at my approach. "There you are." her voice holds thinly veiled curiosity, and I know they're both dying to ask about what happened to me earlier.

"I trust you had no trouble?" I asked wearily, sitting down across from the two of them, fingers steepled together.

Beryn's crimson eyes narrowed. "Don't try to divert us. More specifically, don't try to divert _me_."

"Beryn." Sethys' voice held a slight cautionary tone.

"No, Sethys, she's right, at least to some degree." I conceded. I found that being here, in the place that had nearly taken my life in several different ways, had sapped what remained of my strength. I had almost no fight left to waste on deflecting them. "If you want to know what happened here, you're more than welcome to know."

Beryn seems surprised at my easy capitulation, but she quickly recovers, starting with, "Why were you captured?"

I shrugged. "Who can say? Imperial legionnaires stopped me at the border and demanded to know what I was doing there. Let's just say my response was...less than genial." I allow the smallest of dry grins on my face. "But it certainly didn't warrant my capture, and later attempted beheading."

"Beheading?" Beryn blurts out before she can stop herself. She looks horrified and claps her hands over her mouth, sensing that she might have just brought up another sensitive subject.

I chuckle without humor. "Yes, beheading. They asked me my name once we arrived in that courtyard. I believe I told one of them to go home to Coldharbor, and that Molag Bal didn't like to be kept waiting." I grinned snidely again. "That's when they cuffed me in the ear. Can't say I didn't deserve it that time."

Sethys looks equal parts infuriated and admiring, and he asks, "Did you eventually give them your name?"

"Eventually." I shrug. "I was partially stalling for time, trying to figure out my escape plan. After all, I still had to-" and then I automatically cut myself off, like I do automatically every time I try to talk about what my purpose here, my _true_ purpose here, is.

"Still had to...?" Beryn prompted, once she'd recovered her speech.

I swallow in preparation to say the words I never thought I'd share with another living soul. "I still had to find my brother."

"You have a brother?" Sethys asked, eyebrows shooting up.

"Well, yes. Ah...no. Maybe. It's...complicated." I replied awkwardly, making a scale-like gesture with my hands to show the imbalance of the whole situation. "That's part of why I'm here."

"What happened after you gave your name?" Beryn picks up the questions again.

"I was sent to the chopping block." I replied shortly. No need bringing up all those emotions I felt as I went to that chopping block. "Then the dragon attacked, right when the headsman was about to bring the axe down on my neck. I fled, fought my way through Helgen and freelanced as a sellsword for a while before joining up with the Thieves Guild in Riften." I shifted uncomfortably to myself. Sharing this much about my past felt almost like an interrogation. I knew Sethys and Beryn had nothing but benevolent intentions towards me...maybe. "I thought they might have the best leads as to where my brother went."

"How did you get separated from him in the first place?" Beryn asked, cocking her head to the side inquisitively.

I decide to tell them the half-truth. "We got separated in Valenwood."

Beryn seemed to be expecting more information than that. Slightly annoyed, she prompted, "_How_ did you get separated?"

I once again decide on a half-truth. "It was a Thalmor raid."

"And the Thalmor captured him?" Beryn offered. "So you're looking for where he might have been taken?"

I gulped. "Not exactly. I'm sorry, I-I can't explain it. Not yet."

"_Why?_" Beryn asked, getting up from her seat and leaning forward in a somewhat aggressive manner. In any other time and place, and in any other situation, I'd have knocked her back and put her in her place. Now, here, I simply didn't have the energy. "We're not going to stab you in the back! Don't you think we'd have done that by now if we wanted to?"

"Beryn!" Sethys interrupted, rising from his seat as well. "That was uncalled for!"

"It's the truth!" Beryn retorted.

"If there's one thing I've learned about this world, Beryn," I said quietly, making them both turn towards me, "it's that no matter how long you've known someone, no matter how close to them you think you are, no matter how benevolent their intentions may be, they are still capable of stabbing you in the back." And then I got up and left the keep, to their stunned silence.

* * *

"I thought I might find you up here."

Sethys' voice carries over to me in the chill night air, laced with the slightest bit of snow. I don't turn to him, don't reply, don't say anything, just draw my knees closer to my chest protectively. I should have known better than to say that much about my personal mission without someone asking more questions that I didn't have the courage to answer. One of the questions raised by the whole conversation had burned its way into my mind: did I still have a brother? Who bloody knew anymore.

"Yeah, and?" I snapped back, anger and defensiveness rising, instantly raising my guard. "What do you want?"

"To apologize for Beryn." Sethys began. "She-"

"You can't apologize _for_ her, Sethys." I replied, my words clipped with barely-controlled fury, powered by sorrow. "Only _she_ can apologize, and something tells me she isn't inclined to do that."

"Then let me at least apologize for myself." Sethys offered, coming to sit cross-legged beside me. I subconsciously lean away from any close contact with another person, but Sethys doesn't seem offended.

"Apologize for _what_?" I snapped. "_You_ didn't do anything wrong. Beryn didn't, either."

Sethys appears confused. "Then who did? You?"

"Me." I confirmed. "I should have known better than to try and make someone else understand this. Understand _me_. I should have known it simply wouldn't be possible. But I held foolish hope, made my mistake, and now I'm paying for it. At least I'll learn something from it." I finished bitterly, crossing my legs as well before resting my elbows on my leather-clad knees, a fierce scowl set deep into my pale features.

Sethys looks pained. "We _want _to understand, Odiana. That's the problem. We _are_ trying, and while Beryn's methods are..." he appears to search for a euphemism, "...more direct, we want the same things. We want to help you."

I laughed harshly, without humor. "You know what happened with the last person to tell me that? I put my trust in him and he nearly sold me out to save his own hide. That was the moment I learned a very valuable lesson: trust is wrong. It gets you killed. And I've done damn well on my own before all this nonsense started."

"It's not about just putting your trust in _anyone_, Odiana." Sethys ventured. "It's about finding the right people to put it in."

I turn to him, as though seeing him for just the first time, and to my shock, a small, real smile curves lightly across my face. "And you're the right people, are you?"

"I'd like to believe we are." Sethys stated. "We have nothing to gain from betraying you."

I look down at the stone of the tower, contemplating. I _could_ tell them the full story, and it might even help me, but I can't know that for sure. I could also keep my story to myself, and continue to be bitter and closed.

"Maybe one day." I finally said. "But not today."

Sethys bowed his head. "All right. Are you coming back down?"

"No, I think I'll stay up here for a while." I said. "Keep watch. Don't want any bandit reinforcements sneaking up on us in the middle of the night."

Sethys grinned. "If that's what makes you feel better." and then he turned and started to head back down the stairs to the keep itself.

I hesitate, and then call back, "Hey, Sethys!"

He pokes his head back up. "Yes?"

"I...wanted to thank you." I shifted awkwardly. Thanking people isn't one of my strong suits. Insulting them is more my forte. But he deserves some thanks after coming all the way up here just to talk to me. "For talking to me."

Unblinking with his intense ruby gaze, he replied, "We are always here for you, Odiana. Never forget that."

Even after he left, his words spun around in my head. _We are always here for you, we are always here for you._ What had I done to deserve such unerringly loyal..._friends?_

_Yes,_ I realized. _Sethys and Beryn __**were**__ my friends._

_And true friends don't keep things from one another._

Yet I still held back from going back down and pouring out the whole story. Something told me if I spilled the story now, it might put them in danger later. Better to handle whatever danger might come myself. Old habits die hard, I suppose.

_Friends._

Yes, I had a feeling that I could be in a great deal of trouble with just that one word.

I glanced down the road, to the pass that would give us a shortcut to Ivarstead, and from there to High Hrothgar, where I would finally receive some much-needed answers. Would we make it to the top of the mountain tomorrow? Or would I be forced to wait another night in Ivarstead, so achingly close to my destination, yet also quite far away?

I dismissed the 'what ifs' and speculation of what might happen tomorrow. Tomorrow, I would deal with it. With Sethys and Beryn at my side, no less. They seemed adamant about accompanying me, no matter what I might try to do in order to get rid of them. Sethys had said a while ago that I was stuck with them, that I couldn't get rid of them if I tried.

And, for the first time in a very, very long time, I believed him. I _believed_ what someone told me. And I was _happy_ to believe it.

It had been a long time since I'd last felt like that. Too long, I knew. It was good to feel it again.

Come what may tomorrow, at the very least, I would have them.


	9. Voice of the Sky

_**This chapter is going to start a bit differently: from Sethys' perspective. It switches back to Odiana a little later, but it suited the chapter better to start with Sethys' point of view instead.**_

_**Onward!**_

* * *

Sethys blinked his eyes open to darkness. The braziers that he and Beryn had lit the night before were still out, only faintly smoking with dying cinders. If it was still dark, that meant the sun hadn't risen yet...and Odiana was still on guard duty. He didn't know why exactly she felt compelled to keep watch all night, but he had a feeling it was simply because she wouldn't be able to sleep here. Not in Helgen.

He looked over to Beryn, and seeing that she was still asleep, debated what to do next. He could head back up to the top of the tower and try to talk to Odiana again, but he had a feeling that their brief conversation earlier had been an indulgence on her part. A lot of things had been said the night before, and he was still trying to come to terms with the small pieces he either knew or had inferred from Odiana's story.

One line stuck with him, though. The last thing Odiana had said in the main keep before heading up to the tower: "_...no matter how long you've known someone, no matter how close to them you think you are, no matter how benevolent their intentions may be, they are still capable of stabbing you in the back._"

Someone had betrayed her, very badly. If she was still this affected by it, then it had to have been someone she was quite close to. Likely a family member. She hadn't said anything about her parents or her childhood the night before, just how she'd lost her brother in a Thalmor raid in Valenwood. However, she also hadn't been clear whether or not her brother was alive. Yet, she still appeared to be searching for him, regardless. He could understand wanting to find closure, but she seemed at least somewhat convinced that her brother, whose name he hadn't found out, was still out there somewhere. She'd said that her brother's status was 'complicated' if he remembered correctly, and that told him that she knew more than she'd divulged to him.

But that was fine. He didn't expect her to share all her secrets right away. Although Beryn seemed to distrust anyone she knew very little about-which was normally very sound reason-he sensed nothing overly nefarious from Odiana. She was a thief, certainly-she had directly admitted to being involved with the Guild-but she had also said she only joined the Guild to have better resources in order to track down her absent brother.

No, contrary to what Beryn might believe, Odiana wasn't dangerous. Not to them, at least. He decided he would try to impart his wisdom into her, but she had their father's rash streak a league wider than everyone else in their family. He'd always been the quickest to act when something happened at home, and sometimes not with the most sensible methods. Fortunately, their mother had been around to temper his brash thinking with her quiet reason. Sethys had always taken more after their mother.

He scowled contemplatively as he looked at Beryn. He needed to talk with her before Odiana returned, and he hadn't a clue how long it would be until the sun rose. Getting to his feet, he walked over to the wooden bed that Beryn had claimed and gently shook her shoulder. Beryn sleepily swatted at him, but Sethys persisted until Beryn was grumbling and turning over onto her other side. "What do you want?"

"We need to talk." Sethys stated, with his best I'm-your-big-brother-and-this-is-important voice.

Beryn shrugged. "Fine. What about?"

"Odiana." Sethys said, already anticipating the reaction he'd get.

Beryn groaned and covered her face with one of her hands. "Mephala bless, you've _got_ to be kidding. She's suspicious, Seth! I don't trust someone I don't know anything about! You know that."

"Everyone in this world is entitled to their own secrets, Beryn." Sethys said grimly. "You're forgetting that we haven't exactly been completely honest with her, either."

Beryn scowled. "So? I'd bet you a fat purse of coin that our story isn't half as convoluted as hers. And it's not like she's been asking questions about us, so why should we tell if she hasn't been asking?"

"At least she has the decency to respect other people's secrets!" Sethys snapped without thinking about it. Beryn's eyes widened, but Sethys knew he'd lose his nerve if he didn't press on. "And it doesn't matter if her story is a worldly affair or nothing special, she'll tell it when she's ready to tell it. As will we."

Beryn snorted and rolled her eyes. "You're _defending_ her!"

Sethys stiffened. "I am not, and even if I were, it wouldn't be any business of yours!"

"I think it _would_ be business of mine, actually, since we're all going to be traveling together for an indefinite amount of time." Beryn retorted. "You have no idea the kind of person that you're defending! She could be a murderer, or a Thalmor plant, or some kind of con artist looking to drain every septim she can from two hapless travelers. Whatever the case, you're defending someone that you know next to nothing about. How do we know she won't stab _us_ in the back?"

"Because I don't believe in inflicting that kind of suffering on others like it was inflicted on me." came a subdued voice from the doorway.

Both Sethys and Beryn turned to see Odiana in the doorway. "Odiana." Sethys said.

* * *

I decided to head back down to the main keep and get what little sleep I could before starting our journey once more. I couldn't wait to leave this wretched place behind me and move forward.

Just as I approached the doorway, I heard the sound of heated conversation between Beryn and Sethys. I plastered myself to the wall right by the door just in time to hear Beryn shout, "...no idea the kind of person that you're defending! She could be a murderer..."

My throat tightened. Like I could murder them after all they'd done for me.

"...or a Thalmor plant..."

Anger streaked through my veins like white-hot fire. I had just told the both of them last night that I had lost my brother to the Thalmor! Why in Oblivion would I be _working_ for them?

"...or some kind of con artist looking to drain every septim she can from two hapless travelers."

My jaw tightened with barely-checked rage. My newfound dragon blood stirred within me, as though sensing my powerful emotion. I may cast my lot in with a bunch of thieves, but I had _morals_, to some degree, at least.

"Whatever the case, you're defending someone that you know next to nothing about. How do we know she won't stab _us_ in the back?" Beryn demanded of her brother. I decided that I couldn't just stand there any longer, and so I stepped around the doorway and spoke.

"Because I don't believe in inflicting that kind of suffering on others like it was inflicted on me." I said, speaking the words straight from what remained of my heart, with what little sincerity I had left.

Both of them turned to me, and Sethys said, horrified to find me standing there, "Odiana."

Without responding to him, I stalked up to where Beryn still lay half-covered by furs, arms crossed defiantly as she prepared to take me on. She didn't look nearly so intimidating, however, with her mage robes askew from sleeping. "Is this a game to you?" I asked, with that same silent sincerity. "Some kind of challenge, to figure me out?"

Beryn didn't respond, but maintained her stony exterior.

"I am no murderer, Beryn." I continued, spreading my hands in a helpless gesture. "For how could I possibly take the life of another innocent person when every innocent person has been ripped from mine? How could I be an agent for the Thalmor, when they stole away everything of value to me with no mercy? How could I scam two people-who have done nothing but help me, even when I didn't necessarily deserve it-out of every septim they have when I remember what it was like to be just like you? Starving, afraid, not knowing where you're going or where you'll be sleeping that night or what you'll be eating, even if you're eating at all."

Beryn's firm exterior started to waver, her shoulders drooping, and still she didn't speak. I pressed on, taking a deep breath more for my benefit than anything else.

"I was there, and I remember every minute of it. I was defiant back then; it was my only defense. I was alone. I had no one to help me, for almost seven years I had no one to help me. Everything I did, I did alone, and there was no other alternative for that." I shook my head. "Consider yourself lucky that you still _have_ an older brother to look after you. I want you to just think about this for a minute. Imagine that Sethys has just died; your last point of hope and joy has been torn away from your soul, and nothing will ever bring it back. You're going to be thrown out into that wide, horrible world with not the _slightest_ clue about what you're going to do."

Beryn breaks down into sobs, and I expect Sethys to comfort her and perhaps berate me for pushing her too hard, but he sits silently and waits for me to finish. Maybe I _did_ press her too much, forcing her to take even a brief walk in my shoes. But, I lived through it for seven years. Beryn can survive a few fleeting moments.

Overtaken by a sudden surge of anger and frustration, I slam my fist into the post of the bed with enough force to make it rattle. Beryn looks up at me, confusion and fear battling in her gaze, and I lean forward and continue, my voice raised nearly enough to be considered yelling, but not quite. "You think you're the only one who's fed up with not knowing who I am? Join the party." I spread my arms out again, leaning away and beginning to pace. "I was in your position for so long that I no longer had a sense of _self_, Beryn. I became a mindless survival machine, because it was all I could think to do. It was all I could _force_ myself to do. I had to survive, alone, for _seven years_, with only rudimentary weapons training and a terrified heart. I asked you earlier if you thought this was a game, to figure out who I was. Thinking about it, you're more than welcome to guess, because maybe, just maybe, you'll get it right someday. I'm just as clueless as you are, Beryn. I don't know who I am anymore, and neither do you."

Spinning on my heel, I stalked out the door with some final parting words, "I'm leaving when the sun rises. If you're not there, I'm not waiting for you."

As soon as I was out of earshot, Sethys turned to Beryn, who was swiping away the last of her tears angrily. "You know you at least halfway deserved that." Sethys said quietly.

Beryn sniffed and said, somewhat stuffily, "Yeah, I guess I did. I just didn't expect it all to come out like that. I didn't even know she was _capable_ of that kind of emotion. Whatever happened to her...whoever did it...it made a pretty huge impact on her. I had no idea. I didn't even _suspect_."

"How could you?" Sethys challenged. "You were too busy trying to pin her with all sorts of sinful things to try and divine the truth."

Beryn fixed him with a glare. "I said I deserved it, didn't I? Anyway, if we're leaving with Odiana, we'd better get moving."

Sethys raised his eyebrows. "You're sure you still want to travel with her, after all that?"

"I'm absolutely certain." Beryn said with the utmost conviction as she slipped her feet into her new leather boots. "Because one of these days, I'm going to get her to tell me what happened to her, and who did it. And when she does, I'm going to help her take revenge for it. If she doesn't want the revenge herself, then I'll do it for her." Beryn got to her feet and winced; she was still breaking the leather in. "And besides," she added, turning to her brother, "I don't think you'd have abandoned her to her mission even if I _had_ said I wouldn't travel with her."

Sethys snorted. "I think you have a little too much pessimism when it comes to your opinion, Beryn. If you'd honestly said you wouldn't travel with her, I'd have taken that into consideration."

"This isn't important now." Beryn said, turning and heading in the same direction I had left in only moments before. "She needs our help, even if she hates admitting it, and I don't know about you, but I'm not going to just up and leave her. I think that'd just make her too satisfied. You know how I hate to prove people right. Well, most of the time."

Sethys rolled his eyes. "Yes, I might have noticed that once or twice."

Beryn slugged her brother in the shoulder before jogging down to Helgen's gates.

* * *

I was surprised to see Beryn and Sethys approaching me at the gates. I'd been about to leave, certain that I'd finally driven them away this time, and yet here they were. "I'm surprised." I said, raising my eyebrows. "I didn't think you'd even _want_ to travel with me anymore."

Beryn's face is carefully neutral. "I have my reasons."

I shrugged. "All right, then. Let's be off. I'm hoping to make it Ivarstead by noon, and maybe up to the monastery by the end of the day."

Sethys nodded, Beryn shifted from foot to foot in anticipation, and we set off, leaving Helgen behind. With every footstep, a weight was lifted from my shoulders, and by the time snow puckered my skin in the pass, I felt almost _exhilarated_. I even lowered my hood and allowed a few of the flakes to become ensnared in my reddish-blond locks until the dampness left chills dancing across my neck.

We all seemed to be put in good spirits by the weather; chilly though it was, it was almost refreshing compared to the stuffiness and emotion of the night before. Sethys even hummed a little tune to himself with a rumbling, resonant thrum, and Beryn sang along in Dunmeri with a soft, lilting voice. I had nothing to offer in the way of music, but listening to them enjoy it was enough for me. Upon passing Haemar's Shame, I was even smiling, ever so slightly.

But once we got past Haemar's Shame, the cold quickly turned hostile rather than rejuvenating. Beryn shivered and her teeth chattered. Sethys tried to shield her from the snow, and I eventually offered them my shield to attempt blocking the snow with it, like I had tried to do on my way to Windhelm several days before. It felt like a lifetime ago that I'd been walking down from Dawnstar after yet another wild goose chase to find my wayward brother.

And, just as abruptly as the snow had started, it tapered off once we got deeper into the Rift, its golden leaves littering the ground, some damp with stray snowfall. It was considerably less cold here than in the pass, though, something for which my two Dunmer companions were intensely grateful. I'd always admired the subtle beauty of the Rift. Its muted golds and browns and autumn-like reds contrasted sharply, warmly, with the fierce, harsh glare of Whiterun's pale green tundra, or even the richer green of Falkreath. The Rift had a type of allure all on its own, and I swore I would never tire of it.

Thrushes and swallows chirped in a few of the golden-leaf trees, and Beryn attempted whistling back to some of them, but none of them took the bait, much to her disappointment. None of us felt the urge to converse as we walked, and I wondered if it was because of all the messy emotions that had been brought to light over the past several hours or if it was because of the Rift's beauty, but whatever the reason, I was grateful for the peace.

I spotted a column of smoke not far off, and squinting my eyes, decided it must have come from Ivarstead's inn. Casting a quick glance at the sky, I noted that the sun was just barely at the top of its rise. If we picked up our pace slightly, we could be at High Hrothgar before evening fell. I eased from my easy, carefree walk to something a little more lively. Sethys and Beryn at my heels, we crossed the bridge into Ivarstead.

It was a pleasant enough village, I decided, except for that ominous-looking Nordic tomb directly overlooking the town like a grim, scowling, gray sentinel. It seemed out of place in the eternal autumn glory of the Rift.

"Is that a Nordic tomb?" Beryn asked, speaking up for the first time since leaving Helgen.

"Yes." I said, still casting a glance at it. "We might come back to it later. For now, we need to get to High Hrothgar."

Sethys tilted his head to take in the sheer _enormity_ of the mountain. "And the monastery is all the way at the _top_?"

"Well," I conceded, "not _all_ the way, no, but a good bit of it."

Sethys shook his head but didn't complain as we approached the ancient, crumbling gray steps. We ascended for upwards of two hours, fighting off the occasional wolf pack or stray, and unfortunately the Rift's warmth gave way to the sheer altitude of the Throat of the World. We passed by one of the shrines we'd seen on our way, and the pilgrim sitting cross-legged in front of it flagged us down.

"You might want to watch out for a frost troll a little farther up the stairs." the woman warned us, in a thick Nordic accent.

I nodded stiffly. "Much obliged." I took my bow and a single arrow from my back. I should have just gone to the Forgotten Vale while I still had the chance, because even though I still had a moderate supply of arrows, I didn't know what sorts of things I might need them for after talking to the Graybeards.

Sethys had drawn his sword, and Beryn's hands were raised, one armed with the firebolt spell, the other stoneflesh. Between the three of us, the frost troll didn't stand a chance, and we continued to trudge at a considerably slower pace up the final steps.

I couldn't describe the exact feeling, but I almost felt...a pull. Like a thin, completely invisible string was pulling me along with every step I took. I was _meant_ to come here. This monastery was _meant_ for me, or at least someone like me.

_Dragonborn..._ I shivered as I passed a statue of Talos, and peered through the curtain of snow to see a dark tower ahead. Hardly daring to hope, I jogged forward, shoving my way through the snow with about as much dexterity and grace as a newborn cave bear, and nearly tripped on a series of stone steps that looked slightly different from the ones leading up the mountain. Carefully following the steps up, I eventually found myself at a metal door.

I turned to Sethys and Beryn, who stood behind me solemnly, Beryn's mage hood pulled up to shield her face from the driving snow. Sethys had nothing to shield his face with besides his hand, but they both looked at me and grimly nodded. It was time.

With one last deep breath, I opened the door to High Hrothgar, sealing my fate.


	10. Rough Edges

The first thing I noticed about High Hrothgar was the _emptiness_. It felt almost like the place had been completely deserted and we had walked all the way up this gods-forsaken mountain for nothing. My feet rested on stone that was worn down with countless centuries of use, and I scuffed the tip of my boot across it absentmindedly, expecting to shift dust around and finding nothing but smooth, cool stone. If it was even possible, it seemed like the stone walls were muting our sounds. Sethys moved next to me and I didn't even notice until he pointed at something moving slowly in the shadows.

I looked back at both of them, and Beryn shrugged. We could handle whatever lived in this monastery, if it was hostile. I led our group forward and was confronted with a voice, old and tired, but still authoritative.

"So. A Dragonborn appears, at this moment in the turning of the age." his voice sounds almost accusatory, like I'm some kind of false Dragonborn who just came all the way up here to pass off my fake Dragonborn scam.

"I'm here to answer your summons, and I want answers." I snapped.

"We will see if you truly do have the gift." the old monk said in a cryptic tone. "Go on then, _Dragonborn_. Let us hear your Voice."

At first I was confused; I'd been talking this whole time. And then I remembered the _Voice_ voice, for Shouting. I only knew one Word, Fus, and almost as soon as I thought it, I had Shouted it, "_Fus!_"

The Graybeards who had gathered to watch staggered, and the one who had first spoken to me said, almost reverent, "Dragonborn. It _is_ you. Welcome to High Hrothgar. I am Master Arngeir-"

"I have questions." I interrupted. "What in Oblivion does it mean to be Dragonborn, and why in Meridia's name was I chosen for it?"

The Graybeard who had been talking to me raised his eyebrows, as though surprised I had dared to interrupt him, but he replied, "We are here to help guide you in pursuit of what your Dragon Blood means. Dragon Blood, _Dovahsos_, is a gift from Akatosh that he bestows upon a mortal during times of incredible crisis. No one can say why exactly Akatosh chooses a particular mortal," the Graybeard's tone sounds apologetic, "and it has been debated through the centuries whether the Dragon Blood is a gift or a curse."

"Great." I muttered. "I'm either blessed with the greatest thing the gods have to offer, or I've been damned with their most vile curse." With a sigh, I said, "I suppose I'm ready to learn more."

"You have already shown that you are Dragonborn." Master Arngeir begins to pace, very slowly, and my heart rate rises out of subconscious reaction. "But do you have the discipline and temperament required to learn?"

"Who can say?" I shrugged. "I'd like to think I'm a fairly quick learner, but this is something that's somewhat outside my range of experience."

Arngeir gives me a small, wry grin. "As it is with most everyone else on Nirn. But the Dragonborn is the exception to all the rules: to you, the Dragon Speech is as natural as breathing, and most can learn it almost without effort."

"Then what am I to learn next?" I asked, crossing my arms. I still had quite a few questions, but I wouldn't even know where to begin asking. I had a feeling the question I wanted to ask the most, _'how do I get rid of this situation?'_, wouldn't be received well under any circumstances.

"I can tell you have questions." Master Arngeir waved his hand at me to speak my mind.

I hesitated for a moment before I blurted out, "Why have dragons started coming back now? Does it have anything to do with me?" _It __**would**__ be me that causes the world to end with just my existence,_ I groused. _I guess that means I'd better find a way to stop it._

"No doubt." Arngeir replied grimly. "The return of the dragons and a Dragonborn at the same time is no mere coincidence. You should focus on honing your Voice, and all will be made clear."

I narrowed my eyes warily. That was _far_ too cryptic for my liking. "And there's nothing else you can tell me?"

"No. Not now." Arngeir replied, seeming to shut down my attempt to press the subject further. "You will now learn the second word of Unrelenting Force, _Ro_, which means 'balance' in the dragon tongue. You will combine this power with that you have already gained, and it will focus your Thu'um more sharply."

_So much for the rest of my questions._

One of the other Graybeards stepped forward and appeared to cast something on the stone, saying the Word _Ro_ in a voice that growled as deeply as a dragon's. There was a _crack_ and a puff of dust, and suddenly there were dragon runes on the floor. They started to glow a pulsing orange, almost like they were trying to catch fire, and without my knowledge or consent, the Word was blazing across my mind, embedding itself into my subconscious forever.

_Ro._

_Balance._

"Master Einarth will gift you with his knowledge of _Ro_." Master Arngeir informed me. At first, I was utterly terrified that the agony I had experienced outside the watchtower would return again, but this knowledge felt smoother, more...compatible, I suppose is the best word for it, with my human body, rather than a being that defied all attempts at description. A human with a dragon's soul. Or dragon blood. Or both. Could be neither, for all I knew, but if it was neither, then _what was it_?

The whole situation was just so terribly confusing, and I wanted nothing more than for this not to have happened in the first place, but I supposed by now I had passed the point of no return.

"Now, you will demonstrate your new Thu'um." Arngeir announced. Another of the Graybeards stepped forward and Shouted, "Fiik,_ Lo SAH!_" And a spectral clone appeared.

I supposed I was meant to use my new Word of Power, so I opened my mouth and found, pleasantly surprised, that instead of the Words forcing themselves from my mouth, I seemed to have nearly complete control over what I said. "Fus, _Ro!_"

The spectral clone disappeared. I felt slightly winded, but was able to recover fairly quickly. "Well done." Master Arngeir praised. "Again."

And so, I demonstrated my new Word two more times successfully before Arngeir suggested I learn a completely new Shout. I was instructed to follow a certain 'Master Borri' and he would presumably teach me the new Word. Sethys and Beryn stuck close by me, uncertain of what to do or even if their prescence had been noticed by the Graybeards in the slightest. They looked distinctly uncomfortable, and for once, I empathized with them, but I didn't have it any easier right now than they did.

I was taught, and subsequently demonstrated, my new Shout, one that would carry me a short distance in a very quick amount of time. Upon further questioning, I discovered that were I to learn the other two Words, I could theoretically carry myself much farther. Especially with my small size and slight figure.

My last trial was to retrieve an ancient horn from a tomb called Ustengrav, in Hjaalmarch. I curled my lip with distaste. Hjaalmarch was one of my least favorite places to visit; the marshes and the ever-present mist was enough to give the whole place a sheer aura that said 'stay away from this place'. Sound advice. But if the Graybeards needed me to go there, then I would.

As the three of us left, I found myself saying, "You don't have to travel with me anymore if you don't want to."

"What?" Beryn and Sethys asked, disbelieving. I didn't know what was so hard to believe about my statement. I figured they'd have jumped at a chance to escape me. Most people tend to do that around me. But it's Beryn, not Sethys, that asks, "What do you mean, we don't have to travel with you?"

"Just what I said." I shrugged. "I would've jumped at a chance to escape traveling with someone like me. After all, we never specified how long you'd be following me in my journey. Now that I've talked to the Graybeards, you don't necessarily need to be around anymore, if you don't want to be."

"Do _you_ want us to travel with you?" Beryn queries.

It's an interesting question. I had never actually considered that anyone might actually want to stick around me for an extended period of time. People that did usually ended up dead. Or wishing they were. I'd like to think I've smoothed out some rougher edges over the past few years, which is why I've tolerated them for this long, but then the thought reoccurs to me that they are my friends. They really, genuinely do not want to abandon me. Well, to the best of my knowledge, anyway.

"Well." I said, somewhat at a loss for words. How to tell them I actually _do_ want them to join me without appearing weak? I'll have to tiptoe very carefully around this. "I suppose...it would be nice having two people to watch my back. And, uh, I..." I trail off while trying to come up with more valid reasons.

"You...?" Beryn prompted, raising her eyebrows.

"Let's just go." I muttered, adjusting my bow before setting off, back down those countless unsteady steps. Beryn grinned slyly behind me, unseen by myself or her brother. One day, she would get me to admit I enjoyed having friends.

Our journey back down the mountain was quiet, and I realized the entire day had felt anticlimactic. I'd been expecting to walk up to that monastery and have the Graybeards tell me that I was in for a great, grand destiny that I would only comprehend a tiny bit of before being sent on a near-impossible mission. Rather, it had felt like the first in a very long series of lessons. As the moons continued to rise-for night had fallen while we were still inside High Hrothgar-I started to wonder if I could actually do this. If I could actually be a big enough hero to stop the dragons. If I was actually good enough to cut it.

I snorted to myself. Fat chance. More likely, I'd end up trying to do something heroic and get eaten whole by a dragon. With my luck.

As we passed by Vilemyr Inn, I turned and asked the pair of them, "Do you want to rest, or can we keep going?"

Sethys and Beryn exchanged a glance before Sethys replied, "I think we're fine to travel if you are."

"I'm fine," I warned them, "but I can probably travel for a much longer distance without rest than the two of you. If you need to stop, don't hesitate to tell me so."

Beryn shrugged and Sethys didn't respond, which led me to believe they likely, if not certainly, wouldn't tell me if they got tired. I sighed inwardly. That meant I would have to _guess_ when they needed rest, and I was absolute _garbage_ at gauging people like that. I'd learned to size people up, certainly, but only as potential larceny targets, not whether or not they needed sleep. It was plainly obvious that on this journey, I'd have my work cut out for me. Not just my combat skills, but my people skills as well.

_People skills,_ I scowled to myself. _Those are just about nonexistent these days. This will have to be a good opportunity for me to improve._

Several hours passed, in which there was very little conversation and a great deal of tense silence. It wasn't like when all three of us had first met, and the tense silence had signified anger and distrust. This silence signified the thoughts no one wanted to say aloud, that we'd well and truly gotten ourselves into quite the tangle of events without even trying.

"Septim for your thoughts?" Sethys asked. I hadn't even known that he'd started walking beside me, but I'd been lost in thought. We'd managed to walk from Ivarstead down to the badlands of Eastmarch during the course of the night. Dawn peeked carefully at the horizon, like it was afraid to catch us weary travelers in its cheerful light.

I shook my head. "Nothing worth sharing."

He seemed about to respond when he stopped and pointed at a trail of smoke that was very nearly disguised by the pale gray of approaching daylight. "Is that a giant's camp?"

I squinted my eyes. "Looks that way. We'd be better off staying away if we're hoping to keep our brains _inside_ our heads."

Sethys subconsciously rubbed the back of his head with a wince, and we were about to keep walking when Beryn suddenly got an interested glint in her eyes. "Did you say a giant's camp is up ahead? I've always wanted to see one up close!"

"Beryn," I cautioned, "that's a bad idea on so many levels I can't even begin to describe all of them."

"Oh, come on!" Beryn protested. "Some giants are friendly! I read about it!"

"Yes, some may be friendly, but we have no way of knowing if these are. They could be one of the stricter camps." I said carefully, wondering what will convince Beryn to leave the camp be. Before I can even _attempt_ to suggest a reason why she shouldn't explore the camp, she's gone, a pale slate-gray flash in apprentice mage robes darting right up to the camp before Sethys or I can stop her.

"Beryn!" Sethys yelled, before I could stop him. If the giants hadn't been aware of Beryn's prescence before, they certainly would be now, with Sethys drawing attention to her. She automatically spun around to the sound of her name and didn't even notice the giant coming up behind her with its club raised until she felt the vibrations in the ground. She whipped around and _screamed_, a high-pitched sound that had even me ready to cover my ears. The giant groaned with the piercing sound and raised the club higher for a killing blow.

"_Beryn! No!_" Sethys wailed, almost certain he was about to see his sister crushed to nothing under the giant's club.

I swore and whipped my shield from my back, tossing my bow into the dirt.

Beryn cringed, closed her eyes, and made a futile attempt to shield herself from the club, descending at an alarming speed.

"_Wuld!_"

There was an ear-shattering, resonant and metallic _clang_, then deafening silence.


	11. A Slight Diversion, Part 1

_**All right. Through much writer's block, YouTube marathons, chocolate bars, and orange sodas, I have finally finished this chapter!**_

* * *

"You are _such_ a child."

Beryn dared to open her eyes a fraction to see me standing in front of her with my shield still raised, arm muscles probably pulled beyond recovery because of the quick and violent motions I had just subjected them to. Beryn hesitantly said, "Odiana-"

"And reckless. And high-spirited. And don't even get me _started_ on your nosiness." I lowered my shield and turned completely around, offering a hand up. "But if we're going to be doing this," I grunted as I pulled Beryn to her feet in one pull, "we're gonna have to do this together. That means listening to my warnings and taking them to heart. I have more experience with this place and the creatures that live in it. Another stunt like that and I might not be so merciful."

Beryn nodded seriously, still trembling from her close encounter. "I understand, Odiana. I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking."

"Clearly." I retorted, stretching my arm and wincing. Once I had determined that the damage wasn't permanent, it was a simple matter of replacing the shield on my back and picking up my bow from where I'd carelessly tossed it into the dirt. Then we were all on our way once again, like nothing had happened in the slightest.

I heard Sethys talking to Beryn, though. Telling her off about how stupid she'd been to run straight into a giant camp. I felt I had to agree. Even in my most naive and wild days, I would've thought twice about sprinting straight into a giant camp with no weapon besides a few rudimentary spells. Yet, as idiotic as it'd been, she'd showed a lot of guts. However, that could be a good thing or a bad thing, in my experience. Too much guts and you'll get yourself into a situation you can't get back out of. Not enough, and you'll back away from what needs to be done. But kept in moderation, that kind of courage can be useful.

We walked in silence for a few more miles before I said, "Hey, Beryn?"

"Yes?" she asked, tentatively. She seemed to be expecting me to berate her like Sethys had.

"You've got guts. And I can respect you for that." I said simply. "Just don't do anything that stupid ever again."

Beryn laughed nervously, but replied, "No promises."

I turn to Sethys and say, "Was she this much trouble before I knew you?"

"That much and more." Sethys responds, with a mock-serious expression on his face. He grins at me, though, and against my better judgment, I grin back.

Then it hits me. _I just made a joke! How long has it been since I've made a joke? Well, I guess it wasn't __**technically**__ a joke...oh, forget it._

"So remind me, what are we going to retrieve?" Beryn asked. "That Graybeard master said something about a horn, right?"

"Yeah, the Horn of Jurgen Windcaller, or something along those lines." I replied, frowning as I wondered about the Horn itself. Would it be heavily guarded? Would there be tests to pass? From what I'd inferred at High Hrothgar, this was some sort of initiation that newly-anointed Dragonborn had to go through. What that initiation would entail, I hadn't a clue. "Apparently, Jurgen Windcaller was the man who started the Graybeards, so that Man could learn the proper usage of the Voice."

"And what is that proper usage?" Sethys queried.

I puffed out a sigh. "Well, the Graybeards only use their Shouts for non-combative purposes. It's supposed to provide a connection to Kynareth or something like that. The Dragonborn, however, is said to be the exception to the rules."

"You seem to know an awful lot about this." Beryn remarked. "I didn't think you'd talked to that Graybeard master for _that_ long."

"I didn't." I said quietly. "I had a big library growing up."

That's all that's said for the next several miles; the snow nearby Windhelm turns into an icy blizzard close to Dawnstar, which slows us down considerably, and then a bitterly cold marsh as we finally skirt the edges of Hjaalmarch, mid-afternoon of the next day.

I shake some muddy sludge off my boots with disgust. "I hate this place."

"Can't say I'm enjoying it too much, either." Beryn commented, her own boots seemingly acting as a magnet for the smelly, icy-cold mud.

I glance up at the sky. We traveled all the way through the night, and into the next day. I know Sethys and Beryn have to be getting tired, but if they are, they don't say so. I cast a quick look at the sun again, and make a decision. "We'll head to Morthal for the night, and push on tomorrow morning."

Sethys sighs with what sounds like relief. "Can't say I won't be glad to rest my feet awhile."

I scowl at him. "If you were tired, you should have said so."

"It wouldn't have done any good to stop in a blizzard." Sethys points out.

With an ambiguous grunt, I keep slogging through the mud and layer of frost until I catch sight of the buildings that comprise the minor city of Morthal. "There." I said, pointing. "Is that a gathering outside the Jarl's hall?"

"Looks like it." Beryn said. "Should we...find out what's going on?"

My inner judgment says we should just ignore them and push on for the inn, but curiosity wins out, and I jerk my head to indicate where we're going. As we get closer, I start to hear indignant voices, clamoring for attention.

"What's the Jarl going to do about it?"

"How are we supposed to feel safe in our own homes?"

"We've no need for wizards in our midst!"

I cast a quick glance at Beryn, but she just shrugs, indicating she doesn't mind whatever verbal abuse might be directed her way.

"Please, enough!" calls out the voice of who must be the steward. "I've told Idgrod of your concerns, and she'll look after you all. Go about your business." and then the steward went inside the hall. I saw a lot of unaddressed problems and unanswered questions still on these people's faces, and so I go up to one of them.

"What is it that the Jarl isn't dealing with?" I ask briskly.

The man, with a hat on, nodded to a point somewhere behind him, where I saw the shell of a burned-down house. "Trust you saw that house that burned down." he began tightly. "Peculiar bit of business that was. Then there's this wizard, Falion, who could be doing all manner of experiments in the night. What's a man to do if he can't look to his Jarl for help? No, we can only rely on ourselves."

"Words to live by." I replied grimly. "Thanks for your time."

I start to turn and walk towards the inn, but Beryn's insistent tugging on my arm stops me. "We should investigate the house."

"What? The burned-down one?" I ask, annoyed. "I don't see what that would accomplish, besides wasting time. It's not our business, anyway."

"I can't...I can't explain it." Beryn says, and her face takes on a distant look. "Something feels...off...about that house. I can't put my finger on it...but something tells me it wasn't an accident."

"Just a hunch, or actual magical intuition?" I query, crossing my arms. "Because we can't waste time on random hunches."

"It's...a bit of both." Beryn seems to be struggling with her words. "I've heard that magic and spirits roam more strongly in Morthal. Something magical, maybe the well that all my magicka comes from, is telling me that something is _wrong_ with that house."

I sigh and look to the heavens for guidance before stalking towards the nearest guard I see. "What can you tell me about that house?" I jerk my head towards the burned house.

The guard visibly shuddered. "It's real bad luck to talk about that place. Jarl's been looking for someone who isn't superstitious to figure out what happened."

"Thanks." I replied shortly, before walking towards the longhouse. Just before we enter, I stop and say sharply to Beryn, "If this turns out to be a waste of time and effort, I'm taking it out of your hide." and then I push the door open roughly.

Highmoon Hall seems to be kept meticulously clean, not a speck of dust out of place, and I catch sight of Jarl Idgrod sitting in her throne, staring into space with a somewhat blank expression on her face.

"Jarl Idgrod?" I ask. Her gaze focuses sharply on me, and I continue, brusquely, "I'm here about the burned-down house. A guard said you were looking for someone to investigate it. First, though, I have a question. Why do people think it's bad luck?"

Jarl Idgrod raised her eyebrows slightly, although I couldn't tell whether it was about my audacity, my not being superstitious of the house, or a combination of the two. "The house belonged to Hroggar and his family, a wife and daughter. Hroggar blames his wife for spilling bear fat into the fire, but many think he set the fire himself."

Shock thrums through me. "What? Why would he set the fire with his own _family_ inside?" I can't imagine anyone stupid enough to take their family for granted like that. They're given to you for a reason, and I can't imagine why someone would want to throw theirs away so callously.

Jarl Idgrod's response is dark. "Lust can make men do the unthinkable. The ashes were still warm when he pledged himself to Alva."

Anger rises within me. "Then why in Meridia's blessed name haven't you _arrested_ him?"

"On rumors? Gossip? No." the Jarl states. "But you might seek the proper truth. Sift through those cursed ashes, those that many are fearful to touch. Should you prove Hroggar innocent or guilty, I will reward you."

I bow my head. "Very well."

Leaving the hall, we headed towards the burned house. Beryn and Sethys appeared to have forgotten their exhaustion, or perhaps it had faded into the background with this new puzzle to solve. We mounted the steps cautiously, listening for anything that sounded out of place in a burned-down house. As soon as I step through the threshold, I'm hit with another sudden flash of memory.

_I awaken to fire. Consuming, flickering tongues of destruction that reach for me, sending off smoke with everything they devour. Hungrily, greedily, they take everything combustible I might be keeping in my meager, temporary room._

_I cough as the smoke starts to overwhelm me. My father's voice is shouting something indistinctly; I can't make out the specific words, but I think he's attempting to wake all of us up. I hear my brother's voice just outside my door. "Odie!" he shouts urgently. "We need to move! Now!"_

_I stumble for the door, muscles weak and trembling, my body still wracked with feeble coughing. I'd been sick a few days ago, and I hadn't gotten entirely better yet. I push against the door and it swings open. My brother swoops me up, sensing I won't be walking out on my own, and we both make it to the surprisingly chill summer air. My mother and father are standing stock-still outside as well, facing someone else I don't recognize. A group of people, actually. Elves._

_Then a pair of those evil eyes turn to me. Slimy green, with a pupil that looks, to my smoke-delirious gaze, reptilian in nature. Something is terribly wrong here._

"Odiana?" Beryn's voice breaks me free of my reverie. "Is something wrong? You just stopped in the doorway like you saw a ghost."

"I-" I stop and shake my head for a moment. "I'm fine. Let's just keep-" I freeze again.

"What?" Beryn asks, trying to peer around me.

"I see a ghost." I said, hoarsely.

"Ha ha, very funny, but that's just a figure of speech." Beryn retorts. "What do you _really_ see?"

"A ghost." I said again, and I step aside to let Beryn and Sethys through. They gasp and stumble backwards in shock as well.

It is, in fact, a ghost. A young girl, no doubt. I cautiously approach and ask, "Who are you?"

"Helgi." the young ghost replies, readily at first, but then her voice turns wary. "But father says I'm not supposed to talk to strangers. Are you a stranger?"

I turn to Beryn and Sethys, and they both shake their heads. "Uh, no." I said, turning back to the petite ghost. "I'm a friend. What happened here?"

"The smoke woke me." the girl, Helgi, began fearfully. "It was hot and I was so scared, so I tried to hide myself away so the fire wouldn't burn me. Then it got cold and dark. It's not scary anymore."

I exchange an alarmed glance with both of my companions. Is Helgi telling me about her death _as_ it happened?

"Can you tell me who set the fire?" I ask, trying to keep my voice as soothing as possible.

"Let's play hide-and-seek! We have to wait until nighttime for the other one to come out so we can play. I can tell you if you find me."

"Other one?" I ask, confused. "What other one?"

"I can't tell you! She might hear me; she's so close." Helgi's spectral form appears to shiver slightly. "If you find me first, I can tell you." and then her ghost vanishes into thin air.

I slowly turn to Beryn and Sethys; they look just as shocked as I do. "Well," I said, trying and failing to keep the slight tremble out of my voice, "we should probably go report to Jarl Idgrod."

Contrary to what I'd expected, Jarl Idgrod did not think my story strange or far-fetched in the slightest. She seemed to be certain that Helgi was hiding in the graveyard just above town. I supposed that I needed to search there tonight, but for the life of me, I couldn't imagine who Helgi would have to wait for until nightfall to play hide-and-seek with. I seemed to have a sudden, fleeting idea, but it was gone from my grasp before I could pinpoint it.

Upon exiting the hall, I saw that the sun was about to set. I turned to Sethys and Beryn, saw the exhaustion in their eyes and their stance, and made another decision. "Why don't you guys go ahead and go to the inn? I can handle this."

Rather than argue, Beryn just asked, "Are you sure?" and Sethys yawned, only proving my case.

"I'm sure." I said. "Get some sleep. I'll catch you up tomorrow morning...or if something unexpected happens."

"Let's hope for tomorrow morning, then." Beryn yawned as well, and the two of them trudged off towards the inn. Watching them go, I removed my bow from my back and headed up to the graveyard Jarl Idgrod had told me about.

As far as graveyards went, it could have been worse. Stacks of stones marked where some were buried, while others had intricately-carved tombstones, small spires that protruded from the ground, some almost as tall as me. Something unusual _did_ catch my eye, though. It appeared that one of the stacks of stones had been dismantled, revealing a child-size coffin.

Carefully sidling up to it, I set my bow down and leaned next to the coffin, putting my ear close to it, listening for any indication that Helgi's spirit lived here.

Then, a faint voice. "You found me! Laelette was trying to find me, too, but I'm glad you found me first."

_Laelette?_ I wonder to myself, narrowing my eyes. _Who's Laelette?_

"Laelette was told to burn my mommy and me, but she didn't want to. She wanted to play with me forever. She kissed me on the neck, and I got so cold the fire didn't even hurt."

_A vampire!_ I realized, my eyes widening again with shock._ Laelette is a vampire! But who told her to set fire to the house in the first place?_

"She wanted to take me and keep me, but she couldn't. I'm all burned up." Helgi's ghost finished sadly. "I'm tired. I want to go to sleep now."

I rose to my feet once again, and right as I picked up my bow, a blinding pain exploded at the back of my head, and I fell forward before knocking my head on one of the stones that had once buried Helgi, blacking out.

* * *

_**This was originally going to be posted as one chapter, but splitting it up seemed to make it flow better, in my opinion. Part 2 will be out shortly.**_

_**Thank you for reading!**_


	12. A Slight Diversion, Part 2

_**Although this chapter is technically unfinished, I wanted to put something out there before holiday festivities got into full swing; I likely won't be posting tomorrow or the next day, due to extraneous circumstances with my family. By Friday evening, Part 3 of "A Slight Diversion" should be up.**_

_**Now, onwards!**_

* * *

Beryn had gone to sleep hours before, and despite his exhaustion, Sethys knew he should be asleep, too. Yet something prevented him from dozing off. Something felt, as Beryn had put it earlier, very wrong with that house. He wondered if Odiana was doing all right up at the graveyard. He hadn't heard the sounds of any commotion, so he'd assumed that things had gone according to plan, but what she was planning on doing next, he hadn't the foggiest idea.

He also wondered about the wisdom of Odiana doing this herself, when it was clear that two other people could be there to help her. Then again, he thought with a slow, deep yawn, he wasn't sure how much help they'd be in their condition.

Casting a glance at the inn's door, he half expected Odiana to just come strolling in with the news that she'd proved Hroggar guilty, since it was obvious she felt that was the case.

With a sigh, Sethys got up and headed into one of their rented rooms, falling asleep almost immediately.

* * *

The first thing I was aware of was a throbbing pain originating from two places on my head: the back and a place on the left side of my forehead. I felt woozy and weak, and briefly wondered how long I'd been out. Opening my eyes was a massive effort. I was also thirsty, desperately so. It alerted me that I'd probably been out for at least a full day, perhaps more. Then again, it wasn't like we'd taken many breaks on the way up to Morthal in the first place. It could just be residual thirst from the journey.

I was looking at a stone cellar, but I had no clue where. I could be in Morthal or Falkreath or bloody _Solstheim_ for all I knew. I decided to focus on what I knew, and I what I'd been doing just before falling unconscious.

All right. Stone cellar. Wooden doors. No ash. That means I'm probably not on Solstheim. There's also no leaf litter or sharp smell of wildflowers, so I can assume I'm also not in Falkreath. That means I'm logically still in Morthal. First problem solved.

Second problem: am I injured? I experimentally flex all my limbs, and it's pretty clear that aside from my head, I've sustained no noteworthy injuries. My head, though, my head is _pulsing_ with pain. Every beat of my heart sends another stab of agony straight through my temple.

Third problem: how in Meridia's name am I going to get out of here? I have no weapons; that much is obvious. Whoever's taken me prisoner knows their stuff: my bow and quiver of arrows is missing, my ebony dagger and Auriel's shield as well. The only thing I have, in fact, is a set of lockpicks that were somehow overlooked during the original disarming. Big mistake on my captor's part. Those could come in handy later.

Fourth problem: who tried to bloody _capture_ me? I'd been at Helgi's grave, and suddenly I'd been hit in the back of the head with something. Just before being knocked out, though, I'd heard Helgi talking about someone named Laelette, and my own personal inference that Laelette was a vampire. So, logically, Laelette had captured me.

All right. Okay. I've gotten things in order, now it's time to do what I do best: escape. I pull a few of the lockpicks from where they're hidden in my leather jerkin and approach the door at a crouch, since standing appears to make my head spin and my vision swoop up and down in nauseating ways. With a few haphazard attempts, I pick the lock and scale a few steps, made of a gray wood, but I stop when I hear a voice, speaking faintly. A door opens, closes, and then silence.

I carefully peer over the edge of the stairway to see Hroggar, of all people, sitting at a table with a book in front of him. Just behind him, in the corner, are all my weapons. Also, a red journal is sitting on the table in front of Hroggar. Weapons first, journal second. I'll need to use every sneaking trick I know to pull this off, but if I'm careful, I should be able to get away with it.

With the slowest and softest of footfalls, I approach my tantalizing silver bow. Hroggar still appears to be unsuspecting, and my fingers are nearly around the grip when he freezes, sensing something is amiss. Things happen very quickly. Hroggar gets up from his chair, I yank my bow and a single arrow from the corner, press myself into the wall to attain the necessary leverage, and right as Hroggar pulls out, of all things, a woodcutting axe and charges, I release my arrow, pulling up my shield to ward off the worst of the explosion damage. There's a single groan, and then silence, so I cautiously lower my shield to see my arrow protruding from Hroggar's chest. Despite my recent injury and exhaustion, I allow myself a small grin of satisfaction. I've still got the skill, even wounded.

I pick up all of my weapons and my shield with shaking arms and am about to stumble out the door when I remember the journal. Slipping my bow, arrows, and shield onto my back, I pick up the journal while I fasten my ebony dagger around my belt with my free hand. Flipping open to the first page, I am confronted by Alva's words, words that confirm my worst suspicions: that she is a vampire, had enslaved Hroggar, and had planned to enthrall the entire town to be cattle for a larger group of vampires, presumably in a lair nearby. I toss the journal back on the table and weigh my options.

_I have to tell the Jarl,_ is the first thought that crosses my mind, and then, _but is the Jarl really equipped to deal with a vampire threat like this?_

_No._ I respond to myself._ I need to take care of this, here and now._

According to the journal, the lair is, in fact, nearby Morthal. I walk out of the town unsteadily, following the journal's instructions. The lair itself is rather obvious: the blood-stained stones with gore-covered skulls nearby confirm it. Outside, it is eerily quiet. I don't suspect that'll be the case the further I go.

The first room is nothing spectacular, just a few frostbite spiders that are easy pickings with my bow. This is one of the many times I'm grateful to be an archer. I'm still somewhat light-headed from earlier and I don't think I'd be able to swing an axe right now to save my life.

I manage to make it to what appears to be a dining room, of sorts. A long, wooden table stacked with various piles of meat and gold or jewels is directly facing the doorway I came out of. With my well-trained eye, I sweep the room, counting the vampires and weighing my odds. I see three in plain sight, but I also see two other cave-like rooms that branch away from my line of vision. There could be any number of vampires in there. Not to mention, I'm almost certain that one of the vampires is Movarth, the master vampire mentioned in Alva's journal.

I bit my lip contemplatively. This might be more than I could handle. I had stretched my meager abilities to their limits fighting off the more minor threats in this lair, and my headache was back, full-force. I was worried that if I tried anyway, I'd get so light-headed that I wouldn't be able to tell where I was going, or which way was up, for that matter.

So that meant I'd need to go back to Morthal and get Sethys or Beryn, probably both, to help me. I slowly began to make my retreat, slipping my bow back onto my back for easier maneuvering. But, once again, I forgot one of the cardinal rules of thievery: _always_ watch where you're putting your feet.

My foot slipped on a patch of loose stone and sent it skittering into the main room. I froze for a moment to see if perhaps no one had noticed, but my heart sank when I saw the three vampires already in the room start to pace anxiously, and then another from each room join them as well. That made five vampires and who knew how many thralls?

One of them stopped suddenly and lifted his head. _My scent,_ I realized with horror. At this point, I was just going to throw my quiet getaway to the side, since it was clear that wasn't going to happen. I rose to my full height, and cave walls swooped and dove around me, making me stumble into one of them uneasily. I turned around and made a pathetic attempt at running that _maybe_ got me five feet before I was forced to walk again. This wasn't working. I heard the vampires' footsteps increasing in proximity, and made another attempt to run. I tried to force my vision forward, willed my head to stop making everything swoop and dive.

Somehow, I must have made it outside, because I was confronted with cool air and a burst of sunlight that was quickly covered by clouds. Without warning, I saw someone right in front of me, and I skidded to a halt, sliding through the mud with little elegance or grace, and a gasp of fright. I heard a familiar voice shout, "I found her!"

And then I hear a returning female voice call back, "Then pick her up and let's get out of here! We can't face that many vampires alone!"

I feel myself picked up, and then air starts to whoosh by as the person who's carrying me starts to run. I don't want it to, but my memory from earlier picks up right where it left off.

_My brother is carrying me. We're all standing outside our burning house. My parents are facing down the group of elves when one of them turns to look right at me. I'm petrified with fear, unable to react or say anything in my defense, but I feel my brother's arms tighten protectively around me._

_"Jarek," I whisper, "what's going on?"_

_"I don't know, Odie." he murmurs back. "Just...be prepared to run."_

_I can barely breathe, let alone run for my life, but I nod vehemently. I can't imagine that me, a fifteen-year-old girl, could run faster than that group of dangerous-looking elves, but I don't have a choice._

_Suddenly, our father stiffens and shouts across to us, right as one of the elves grabs his shoulder and yanks him to the ground, "Jarek, take Odiana and RUN!"_

_Without hesitation, Jarek has taken off through the trees with me still in his arms, and tree trunks whistle by the two of us. My adrenaline is so high I can almost hear each individual rustle of leaves on the trees. I turned back, and immediately wished, for the rest of my life, that I hadn't._

I screamed and violently awoke, although I wasn't certain when I'd fallen asleep. Fur blankets go everywhere, and I realize that someone has removed my armor in favor of a cloth tunic and breeches. My head still hurts, but less so. I still feel weak, but I can't be certain whether it's from my memory-turned-nightmare or my recent capturing ordeal.

Sethys and Beryn dash into the room; they must have heard my shriek. Both of them look worried, and exhausted. "What happened?" I asked, still trying to slow my heart.

They exchange a glance and Sethys says, "You went to the graveyard and told us to go to the inn ahead of you."

"I remember _that_." I retorted testily. "_After_ that."

"Well, we hadn't heard from you by morning, so we wondered if something had happened." Beryn picks up the story. "We asked the innkeeper if you'd passed through and just hadn't woken us, but she said no, you hadn't been in all night."

"That's when we started asking town guards." Sethys interjected. "One of them said he saw you heading up to the graveyard, but hadn't seen you come back down. We went up there to see if you were still there. All we saw was a child-size coffin and a pile of rocks."

"But _I_ noticed signs of a struggle." Beryn interrupted. "And we also noticed really light footsteps leading away from the graveyard, to a house. I might have utilized some of my more..._illegal_ means to get inside the house, but once we got there, the place was deserted except for a dead body with an arrow sticking out of it, and a journal."

I grin weakly at Beryn's description of picking the lock to get inside Alva's house. "Sounds like you were something of a thief before I came along."

Beryn shrugged. "Whatever it took to get by."

"What happened after you found the journal?" I inquired, encouraging them to continue the story.

"Once we read it, and noticed the absence of either you or your weapons, we figured you'd gone to Movarth's lair to put an end to the vampires yourself." Sethys explains. "When we get there, we're deciding how we want to handle this when suddenly you come shooting out of the cave so unsteadily it's a wonder you didn't collapse onto anything. At first, we were mostly concerned with you, but then the vampires that were chasing you started to come out of the cave and, well..." Sethys shrugged. "...we just ran out of there before things could get worse."

"Understandable." I conceded. "How long ago did this happen?"

"Oh, just a few hours." Sethys replied with a wave of his hand. "It's mid-afternoon again."

"Hmm." I scowled.

"What are you thinking?" Beryn asked.

"I'm thinking we need to kill those vampires before they decide to put their plan in motion." I said wryly.

"The Jarl already sent some men to the cave. They were supposed to have taken care of things." Sethys told me.

I raised my eyebrows. "And have any of them returned yet?"

Their silence spoke for them.

"Well, I guess that settles it." I said, swinging my legs over the side of the bed to get up and search for my armor. "This just turned into a rescue mission."

"Aren't you going to wait for someone else to help us?" Beryn asked, confused.

As I started to pull on and buckle components of my armor, I responded, "Anyone who might be able to help us is likely already at the vampires' lair, and we have no way of knowing what kind of condition they're in."

"Speaking of condition, _you're_ hardly in a prime state to be charging off rescuing people." Sethys pointed out. "The resident alchemist was worried about internal head damage, and we were supposed to make you rest for at least a week before attempting anything strenuous, _like rescue missions_."

I stop and look briefly over my shoulder as my fingers wrap around my bow's grip. "Do I look very incapacitated right now?"

"Well, no, but-" Sethys attempts to interrupt.

"But nothing." I cut him off sharply. "If I'm on my feet, I'm fit to fight. Now, am I going to this lair alone, or are you two coming with me?"

They exchange a glance, see that they aren't changing my mind, and let out a collective sigh. "We're with you, Odiana." Beryn replies.

"That's what I thought." I affirmed, heading for the door. "Now let's move."

* * *

_**Happy holidays, to everyone who's still reading!**_


End file.

Elder Scroll series, Adventure, Fantasy