Shattered

She walked up to the sleeping Katrina, stood there in silence watching her slowly breathe in and out then said, “My daughter, go forth and fulfill that which you were born to be. When you are done, missing home, come to us, we will be waiting, ‘Tiid, Los, Hin Dez’, ‘Time Is Your Destiny’ my daughter. We will be waiting.” With that the room returned to an empty silence and she slept the dreams of purpose until the first light of dawn filtered into the room and stirred her from her sleep.

Katrina slowly rose, slid her legs over the side of the bed to a sitting position. She sat there a while, trying to remember something about her dreams, there was something that transformed her here beyond what she already had become aware of.  Her dreams were full of strange messages and memories of other people, other places.

One from last night was the last she remembered experiencing. She sat there pondering, then thought, “Mother, you were here! I remember now, you said to me, “Go forth and fulfill that which you were born to be.” Katrina paused then, closed her eyes and then both heard and saw her, “Tiid, Los Hin Dez, Time Is Your Destiny. Come to us when you are done, we will be waiting.”

The tears rolled down her cheeks from her closed eyes as she thought, “You were beautiful, I will come to you although I am not sure yet what it means, ‘Time Is Your Destiny’” She opened her eyes  then, found a cloth she would use to wipe away the tears and went to an area set aside for reading with food and books all within easy reach.

Here she sat for a while reading, eating some fruit, nuts, and bread for breakfast. She knew she needed to begin her journey back to Whiterun soon. She wanted to make it back to the home that had been left for her. There she would plan her approach to release Whiterun from the hold of the Thalmor. Today she would go to meet her “Dez”, her fate.

As Katrina slept, four lights filled the room who had once been the Greybeards. They were ethereal in appearance, approached her bed. Each ball of light moved forward and from the first it could be heard, “Hind, Do, Daar, Bok” in the common tongue it meant, “Hope of this Age”.

Then, next another came and said, “Sil, Vahzah, Ahrk, Fron” which would translate to, “Heart True and Kind”. A third shimmering light moved over her and spoke, “Tinvaak, Wah, Fin, Kun”, which commonly meant, “Prophet to The Light”.

The fourth light, the brightest in the room at that time and the one who had at a previous time, spoken her true name of “Dovah Do Daah Bok”, “The Dragon of this Age” spoke over her, “Tiid, Los, Hin, Dez” which was not just a series of words of power but a prophecy as well. The meaning of those words would be translated to, “Time Is Your Destiny”. This set of words appeared to hover and simmer a great light over her before being absorbed as the others had.

As each one spoke their words a light would descend and be absorbed by her sleeping form. When the last one had spoken, one more voice came into the room, a shimmering figure of a lady of great beauty with a touch of both her father and mother’s grace in her.

As she sat and read the book, “A mother’s love and the sword of destiny”, she discovered her name was Katrina Morgan Septim Kendra. She knew from reading from some passages documented by the Lord Chancellor of Rigmor’s time that her name had special meaning.

The Lord Chancellor, Martin Blackwell, was keeper of history and a fierce defender of the rulers of Tamriel during that time. He had written about the meanings behind her name.

Her first name Katrina meant “Pure”. Morgan, a family name of Rigmor meant, “Sea Song” and according to this her grandfather and grandmother, Rigmor would travel often in ships as she loved the open song of the sea.  Septim, her grandfather’s lineage was the name of the greatest dynasty of Tamriel, and Kendra, her last name from her father had been known to mean “Knowing, Of Royal Power, and Great Hero”.

Katrina’s eyes were full of the tears of reading of her grandmother’s journey to understand her destiny, of her grandfather, who had saved her grandmother many times, not just from physical death but spiritual death as well.

There had been many battles fought to come to their journey’s end. Rigmor and “The Last Dragonborn” as her father was referred to during that time had fallen in love with each other as they journeyed across many provinces of Tamriel.

Her grandfather had taken on the role of guardian, as Rigmor would say in the beginning, “What are you, my guardian angel or something?” Later, once they both learned of the blessings that were within his blood, Rigmor would refer to him as the “Guardian Dragonborn”. Of course, there were other names she held private for her grandfather but that is for another story.

In time they fell in love with each other, they understood the truths of their destiny together and got married, her grandfather became Emperor and her grandmother, High Queen of Tamriel. The Lord Chancellor has also written that at the time of their crowning, Rigmor was already pregnant with a child.  

That the resulting birth was of course, her mother Kintyra, an old family name of the Septim dynasty. She was prophesied to be born to fulfill the Alessian prophecy and bring about the “Golden Age”. It was said that she would be born with the blessings of Akatosh and Tiber Septim in her blood so that her grandfather would no longer be “The Last Dragonborn”.

This was foretold to be required to restore the line of the Emperors and Empresses who held in their blood the power of the dragons which in turn would help to bring about a lasting peace and prosperity.

All of that had been betrayed though, by the Thalmor and the Dominion. They had chosen not to be the partners they were asked to be, to help create the greatest age in the history of the races.  Instead, they chose to take a path of darkness, leaving nothing but a road of dead, the empty lands she experienced since coming awake near that cave below Helgen, and the undoing of an age of hope.

She knew now that it was her destiny to be the instrument for this time to what would become known as the “Path to Reclamation”. She had inherited the gifts of her parents and grandparents, of the gods and deities that believed and supported the Alessian promised age of hope and lasting peace. She knew now that she would begin in Whiterun, to take back that hold and find others who wanted this land restored to its legacy and become something even more.

This was to be her sea song and her doorway towards returning home someday as Rigmor and the dragons had hinted to and said, “You know that way to us once your journey is complete here, use it to come home and know your brethren, “Dovah Do Daah Bok”, “The Dragon of this Age.”

She thought to herself, I will need to be well rested to take this journey. It is a path that will require all that I have learned on my hard-fought journey towards shedding the wrappings of illusion to know who I am, what I am, and maybe what I am yet to become.”

She paused briefly and felt the silence of this place that had once been the home of the Greybeards hang on the edges of her mind. She knew tomorrow before leaving, she would give thanks to them, to honor their great sacrifice to her and this destiny yet to be fulfilled.

She closed the book, got up from the chair and placed it carefully back upon the soft cloth that had been placed on top of the dresser. She then walked back to the first bed she came to, bent over to lay down, closed her eyes and was fast asleep.

She rose, walked the way back down the path to Hrothgar. There she crossed back through the arch, to the doors, and stepped into the great hall. She found her way back into the heart of its chambers and what had once been the living quarters of the Greybeards.

All was gone now, none but the echoes existed and what must have been some final act knowing that someday, someone would come who would need to know what special gifts they were blessed with.

She continued until she came to the end of the quarters and there saw a book lovingly placed upon some fine cloth. As she approached it and look down, she saw a picture engraved on the front of its cover and the title of the book read, “A mother’s love and the sword of destiny.” Thus, she had found who she now knew was her family.

She gently opened the book, staring at the photo for a long time. She then heard a voice speak to her, “You are from a line of kings and queens that were meant to sit upon the ruby throne for a millennium. Your blood flows with the line of Septims, Morgan, and Mede. You are Nord and Imperial. You are now she who will fulfill the legacy of our birthright, my blood, my husband’s blood and our daughter, your mother. You are Dragonborn and hold the sword of destiny. Our story is now your story too. Go and find those who would stand with you against the betrayal of our people. Restore the hope promised for the golden age, restore the dragon fires of old, and find your destiny as it waits for you now.”

There was a pause, she sensed a conversation taking place in the beyond, then the voice said, “When you have finished your work here, we will be waiting for you to welcome you back home.” Silence filled the space again, she took the book and sat down to begin reading.  

She slowly rose, turned, and went through the doors of the tower. She made her way down the winding stairway to the courtyard. From there she walked to the arch and beyond that a raging storm of winds would rip away anything that tried to pass.

She pulled the words, “Lok Vah Koor.” A great force sprang forward from within her, and the way ahead was cleared. She began the last of the journey to the Throat of the World. She came across many other areas blocked by the winds along the way. Her voice flowed effortlessly though, without a need to recover before trying again.

Then she came to a place that was dark, the winds howled with dark intent and a swirling of ice flew within its realm. She closed her eyes and for some reason instead of using her shield and blade, she pulled the two-handed long sword from its scabbard on her back.

The swords blade was covered with runes of power, they pulsed with fire, and it licked the edge and air around it as if hungry for something to burn. As she entered the darkness, she saw it. An ice wraith unlike any she had seen before.

The flow of the dragon within her came alive and these two great forces moved to the dance of death where only one would come through it unsheathed. She heard a voice within her, “I am a mother’s love, the bane of all who would stand before you. I am the “Sword of Destiny” Will its force upon your foe.

With that the runes glowed, and the fire raged along its blade and with a final step she yielded its force to strike the dark entity that guarded the way. It struck with such ferocity, that when it died, there was a loud pop in the air and the sky cleared as well as the final way.

When she arrived at the top, there was a dragon wall ahead, and along its stone she saw more runes of power burning bright. She heard voices now as she came closer to it.

There they sang out in the voices of those whose had flew the sky above and within and as she walked forward through a swirl of light, she felt the flow of time become unordered, without structure and knew she was becoming attuned to the time wound, left there from a past age.

She sensed it was always meant to be, “Maybe, this could be used to help heal this shattered land.” She arrived at the dragon stone. The voices continued to sing around her.

Then she heard a new voice, one who spoke directly to the Dovah of her spirit, “QETHSEGOL VahRUKIV KiiR JUN JAFNHAR WO LOS AG NahLaaS NaaL YOL DO LOT DOVah LODUNOST” Within her she heard, “This commemorates the child king Jafnhar who was burned alive by fire of the great dragon Lodunost. It is Yol or Fire, a word to burn away what stands before you.”

Next, she heard, “AESA WahLaaN QETHSEGOL BRiiNahii VahRUKT THOHILD FIN TooR WEN SMOLiiN AG FRIN OL SahQO HeiM” Translated to, “Aesa raided (this) stone for (her) sister, Thohild the Inferno, whose passion burned hot as (the) Red Forge. Toor or Inferno, a word to rage hot the fire of your passion.”

Then there were the final words, “HET Mah HERFODR SHUL-KRiiD SahROT
KONahRIK DO LUMNaaR DO KRENT HahNU. Here fell Herfodr, Sun-Slayer, mighty warlord of the Valley of Broken Dreams. Shul or Sun, to clean new the way before you. Together they are Fire Breath.

There was a brief silence then she heard, “I sense you already know the way to our existence, look within time to find us, once you are ready for that journey. Until that time comes and your journey is ready for you to return home, this is my final lesson to one who is Dovah.

The doors were unlocked as she entered these sacred halls of the Greybeards. She walked forward towards a large chamber where there were runic symbols burned on the floor. They began to burn brighter with their own inner flame as she approached them.

Then it began, a chorus of words filled her mind, she heard voices all around her but saw no one there. They were like echoes from the past, all singing as she approached the blazing symbols. She felt forced to her knees before its power.

She heard in her mind, “Fus is the first word. It is known as Force and will help you bend your inner will to a force, Ro is for Balance, a way to focus your inner will towards something, and Dah or Push is the final word. It will allow you to push away anything you do not want to reach you. Together, ‘Fus, Ro, Dah’ is an ‘Unrelenting Force’ able to push aside anything or anyone that stands in your path.”

All around her she heard voices she recognized, some she didn’t, “The prophecy that had foretold was now fulfilled, the line of kings and queens of the dragon blood shall be restored, this shattered age shall pass, as Dovah, the Dragon of this Age takes upon her the mantel of ‘The Way Of The Voice’.”

She felt her blood boiling from within. A great force came flowing out of her forcing her to raise her head towards the open air above. She heard herself say, “Fus, Ro, Dah” and a great force indeed went forth and the foundations of the world shook, the stone from the ceilings and walls around her were cracked from its power and she knew then, that she had in part discovered something profound, something different this time. She sensed that with her, the words of the Dovah would flow like a stream or a crushing wave.  

She then stood by strength of will and walked towards another set of doors. She was feeling a bit light headed from all that had just occurred. When she opened the doors, she looked upon a great courtyard, and there between two pillars and before a gate were more blazing symbols calling to her.

She approached them, she heard the voices again, this time clearer, and she thought she heard others above her, speaking in the tongues of dragons but she saw nothing before her eyes only with her mind, like before. 

She heard the words again teaching her, becoming part of who she was, “Wund, which means Whirlwind to push yourself forward at great speed, Nah or Fury, with which to stir the air around you so that it allows you to pass through anything in your path. The last was Kest or Tempest, the storm of your speed spinning away time and space before you. Together they are’ Whirlwind Sprint’ a ‘Thu’um’ that will rush you forward, carrying you in its wake with the speed of a tempest.

The words settled into her blood and into her being. She didn’t feel the compulsion to declare them as she had the others. She explored the courtyard more and discovered as she approached a tower with an open arch and a whirling, howling, mist, and wind beyond it another set of burning runes.

She was beginning to feel really dizzy now, weakened by the process of learning all these words of power. She heard a voice say to her, “Lok or Sky. The word that yields the winds before you. Vah or Spring. In it you can calm the storm before you. Koor or Summer. It will clear away any fog or inclement weather.

Together these make up the words of power of Clear Skies. With it the winds and weather yield before you” There was a rush of wills that came upon her. She felt so weak and knelt with head bowed in silence attempting to recover herself.

Then she heard a lady’s voice that said, “These words will clear the way before you. You must first go to the top of the tower and meditate on what has happened here. Afterwards, you must use the new words of power to clear the path to the ‘Throat of the World’ where you will learn more about your destiny.”

She stood up slowly, still unsteady from all that had happened to her on this day. She felt numbed to the core by it all. She didn’t even think she was thinking much anymore, just acting on instinct.

She followed the instructions and made her way into the tower and climbed the winding stairs to the top. There was a small courtyard of sorts and an open spot before her. She walked forward then knelt. She understood, this is where she was to meditate. To contemplate the deeper meanings of what had occurred that day.

She meditated in silence and despite the cold, the exhaustion of having so much happened to her, she felt at peace with herself, almost whole again. Then the lady’s voice spoke to her once more.

“When you return from the ‘Throat of the World’ go to the living quarters of the Greybeards, there you will find a book sitting at the end, this will be the final chapter to help you fulfill your destiny.”

She knelt in silence but then asked, “May I ask you who you are?” There was silence, then a voice said gently, almost sadly, “My girl, our family, you are of our blood, you are she who will complete the fulfillment of the age. That which was promised before the betrayal of that covenant of the last one. Go now, there will be food, a place to bathe if you would like, and warm beds and clothing to rest through the night. You are safe here in this sacred place. Know that we watch over you and are always here with you.”

She began the long journey up the seven thousand steps. The pilgrim’s meditation as the residents of Ivarstead used to affectionately call it according to the books and journals she had read.

Many Nords will have made this journey at least in part before they become too old to do so. It was considered a part of becoming a Nord. To understand their heretic roots that reached back to Atmora and earlier beliefs where there existed a bond between nature and man. With that bond came great gifts, and with those gifts came great responsibility.

It had been written that reading the words of all ten ancient stones on the way up to High Hrothgar would grant a single blessing that would last for twenty-four hours. The blessing would become known as the “Voice of the Sky”. Its blessing would bestow the ability to have animals neither attack nor flee from you.

As she approached the first stone the emblem’s words held great power for her. She read and absorbed, “Before the birth of men, the Dragons ruled all Mundus.” She thought, “Dragons were said to the immortal children of Akatosh, the first Aedra (God). According to the writings of Archmage Shalidor, Dragons existed before the advent of sequential time in the Dawn Era. The Dawn Era, also known as the Dawn Age, Beginning Time, or Chaos Times, was a period marked by the laws of nature remaining unset, thus time was an artificial fabrication created to help bring order to the void.

The second stone read, “Men were born and spread over the face of Mundus (The plane or realm of man). The Dragons presided over the crawling masses. Men were weak then and had no Voice (The speech of the Dragons).”

She had noticed the air was getting thin, meaning less of it to breathe. It held a great cold, but the Nords, as it was written, had once held a closer relationship to the elements and thus did not feel it or its effects as other races did.

She came to the third stone, whose emblem read, “The fledgling spirits of Men were strong in Old Times (The Merethic Era, a period of narrative history). Unafraid to war with Dragons and their Voices. But the Dragons only shouted them down and broke their hearts.” This referred to the power of “The Voice”, a language whose words were etched with power and intent.

The fourth emblem read, “Kyne (the Nordic goddess of the Storm and chief deity of the Nordic pantheon.) called on Paarthunax (Second born, and lieutenant of Alduin, the World Eater.) who pitied Man. Together they taught Men to use “The Voice.” Then the Dragon War raged, Dragon against Tongue (Known as the Thu’um or Storm Voice.)”

She remembered in her reading; this was when man first learned the tongue of the Dragons and how to use it as the Dragons did. Its power could be used for a variety of purposes, sharpening blades to quickly traveling across the land, even controlling animals, or calling down great storms from the heavens.”

Her pilgrimage continued, the fifth stone and emblem read, “Man prevailed, shouting Alduin, first born, out of the world. Proving for all that their Voice too was strong. Although their sacrifices were many-fold.”

She thought, “this also meant she was halfway up the seven thousand stairs to the ancestral home of the Greybeards. The closer you get to that place, the more she read of the emblems on the stones along the path, the more she became aware, alive again. It’s as if there is a slow healing of a deep scar.”

When she arrived at the sixth emblem, it read, “With roaring Tongues, the Sky-Children (Nords consider themselves to be the children of the sky.) conquer. Founding the First Empire (Nordic lands of Skyrim) with sword and Voice. Whist the Dragons withdrew from the World.”

She was getting closer now. She sensed a great change beginning to take place on the plane of Mundus. The seventh emblem read, “The Tongues at Red Mountain (The highest mountain). Went away humbled. Jurgen Windcaller (The first Dragonborn of the first age) began his Seven Year Meditation. To understand how Strong Voices could fail.

At the eighth stone she read, “Jurgen Windcaller chose silence and returned as Jurgen the Calm. The seventeen disputants could not shout Him down. He built his home of the Throat of the World (The highest peak of Tamriel).

It took most of the day for her to climb the seven thousand steps to High Hrothgar. As she came around a cliff face, she saw it though just ahead. She felt that surge of energy from within. She thought, “This is different somehow, as if I have arrived home.”

As she made the final approach, she stopped near the entry to see a statue of Talos that had been built behind the ninth stone of knowledge as she called them.

It read, “For years all silent, the Greybeards (Monks who followed the Way of The Voice) spoke one name, Tiber Septim (Known as Talos Stormcrown), stripling then, was summoned to Hrothgar. They blessed and named him Dohvakiin (Dragonborn).”

She took the last steps to the tenth and final stone and emblem and upon reading it, “The Voice is worship. Follow the Inner path, Speak only in True Need.” With it she knelt and felt the last of her scars healed and a glow surrounded her and pulsed from within her.

It was a couple of hours later after she had made her way up and over the snowy pass, she came down upon a place that stopped her in her tracks. She felt pulled towards it. Like there was something important that happened here before.   

She came upon the first sign that confirmed she was on the right way to Ivarstead.

She thought, “The road should begin to descend now. She knew she was getting closer to finding out more about who she was, why she couldn’t remember so many things, and who was this person that preceded me that set so many things in motion and how was I connected to her?”

As she continued another couple of hours to the aspen woodlands that surrounded the town of Ivarstead, she wondered, “What will I find there, a town of people, maybe some answers to what they knew.” She pondered that question briefly than thought, “No, more likely another destroyed town, but maybe not, Ivarstead was not of any strategic importance that she was aware of.”

She saw what looked like it may be the town ahead. A great roar broke the silence of the wooded land surrounding the road. Her shield and sword were in hand, and she felt something within her come to life. A flood of energy she had never felt before. A great bear, then a pack of wolves descended on her as she went into a blur of motion. Suddenly, it was quiet again. All she could hear was her breathing from the effort and the bear and wolves laid dead around her.

She thought to herself while standing there, trying to recollect what had just happened. “She should be dead after that or at the very least, mortally wounded. I moved so fast. It was as if they were standing still around me. “

She slid her sword back in its sheath. She continued until she came to a bridge that crossed the river here, she could see the town just ahead, another broken-down burned-out rubble.

She felt her mood drop in disappointment and mused, “Maybe I’ll find some evidence of what happened here. I will likely have to setup camp here for the evening before taking the long trip up the seven thousand steps to High Hrothgar.”

She pauses a bit more letting her sight, sound, and smell sense her surroundings. She thought, “What would have been the justification for destroying so much of this part of Tamriel? Why was it so important to ensure the death of a whole nation? To what purposes was it done?”

She then noticed the light was slipping away as the sun fell behind the peaks of the high mountains that Ivarstead was built in. She had better make her way into town and set up camp for the trip tomorrow.

She made her way through the town slowly, looking around as she went. When she reached the mill and the last home and farm before the wilderness began, she became emotionally overwhelmed by the loss, emptiness that permeated everything around her and fell to her knees.

She felt her eyes fill up with the tears of all those lost in this town, then cried out, “Why, why is this happening? What you’re asking is too much, too much for anyone, what can one person do when so many before me have failed?

She stayed there and felt the weight of what she had experienced over the last couple of days pushing down on her spirit. She thought, I need to get up and find a good area to camp for the night. She made camp behind what used to be the inn in town. There was running water. An old forge that had gone bone cold and several good places to defend herself if that became something.

Her night was peaceful though, and the stars and moon slipped back asleep as the first morning light began to rise. She didn’t take long to supply herself, check her armor and weapons and begin the journey. 

She mused to herself,” I believe I need to shed this armor into something more comfortable. Maybe I can find a dress or gown where I can soak myself in the warm waters of the hot tub.”

She had found a beautiful gown in a wardrobe located in the small building alongside the hot tub. She mused, “these clothes were all finely made, like those made for those born of royal blood.” She changed, stepped outside, and slowly stepped down into the hot steaming waters of the hot tub.

With each step down she felt the pain of what she had seen on this journey begin to wash away.

As she sat in its soothing waters, the warmth allowed her to close her eyes and she began to think. “She knew the history of that place, where the dream had suggested she go. The importance the Greybeards had played in protecting, teaching, and guiding those who had been discovered to have talents for what had been referred to as “The Way of The Voice.”

Then she remembered something from one of the old books, “It had been the story of ‘The Last Dragonborn’ who when first coming to High Hrothgar had been told by their leader, Arngeir, that he had been preceded by the founder of the Greybeards, Jurgen Windcaller and his teachings of a peaceful way of using the voice to celebrate the power of the gods, not those of man.”

As she sat in the warm waters, closed her eyes, her thoughts wondered of what portent this would hold on her and the future yet to be realized. Then she remembered something else, something important from the dream.

She thought, “What was it the priest said, ‘Know you this is not without precedence. There was one who came before you. In that sacred place of knowledge and learning there is a book.” She began to drift towards slumber but heard the last of it, “It will have the words of her story, her sacrifice, her destiny from a past age. Know that you are linked, you are part of their story now.’” With that she fell into a soft and peaceful slumber. Nearby a man dressed like a priest knelt attending the gardens and watching over her.

Sometime in the night she woke up, stepped out of the hot tub, dried off, went to the house, and climbed into bed to finish sleeping the previous day’s discoveries behind her.

After waking, eating something, dressing herself in her armor and weapons, she made several trips back to collect items from the fallen and to see if there was anything of value, journals, messages, letters, or maybe orders.

She brought the items back and set up a shrine of sorts in a room that seemed prepared for it. Here she laid out the weapons, armor, and other items she had taken from the dead.

She was ready, no sense in wasting any more time. She had found some other armor she now wore as well as a two-handed blade that appeared to be enchanted in some way. She figured she would go up past Helgen, up across the mountain pass there and come down into the woodlands that marked the transition to where Ivarstead was located.

She had no memory of whether she had been there in that town in the past, but what she knew from the books she found around this home was Ivarstead was most popular because it was the starting point for the seven thousand steps. It was a pilgrimage that many took in the past, to study the dragon stones that were along the long path to High Hrothgar, ancestral home of the Greybeards.

She mused for a moment, “I am just wasting more time, let’s get this journey going for it will be a while before I find my way to that place so high atop the “Throat of The World” as it was called in the books.

She headed outside, locked the home, put the key back where she had found it. She walked to the bridge that spanned across the White River running hard down towards the plains, stepped to the middle, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath.

She let the sounds of the water rush through her being; she sensed a great change was about to occur in the world. Just as the water flowed, not mindful of where it went, she sensed her destiny was unwinding, unmindful of her course, knowing that all paths led to the same end.

She remembers the warnings about the dread that existed in Riverwood when she passed by on her way here, so she took another path that led her up past the northern watchtower on its way to the “Bleak Falls Barrow”. She knew she could then make her way to the ruins of Helgen, head north and begin her trip to Ivarstead.

She stood outside of Helgen for a moment. She thought to herself, “This is where it all began. It is fitting that the journey towards answers also begins here. She thought,” I will have to try and make good timing over the mountain to come out in the Aspen Forest near Ivarstead.

According to some books she found, they mentioned the road to Ivarstead should have markers at specific points. This was to help travelers who were making that journey since so much around it was wilderness.

Overwhelmed, she stood up and went out the door. She soon came to an overlook that allowed her to look upon an empty land for the most part, except for all the elves. They were the only race she saw and were now working the fields and farms and guarding the way into Whiterun.

She made her way down and across the rocks and streams. She felt it would provide her with the best cover. She was coming up the line of the water and rocks when a Dominion regular spotted her. It wasn’t long before she found out how wrong her assumption had been. The soldier raised an alarm to join her in hunting down this spy from one of the unconquered lands. She let loose her arrow and then another. Both struck with a thud and the soldier fell dead.

She should be able to get closer to the city itself and discover if it held the same portent as what she had already witnessed. A land not held by the “Sons and Daughters of Skyrim” but one where the “Dominion had conquered and ensured some tainted vision of a future where elves would rule the lands of Tamriel once again.

Instead, she was thrown into a running battle. She moved with a speed and grace she didn’t know she was capable of. The arrows flew from her bow and struck the intended targets with deadly accuracy.  She could hear others in the city being aroused by the noise outside the gates.

The battle made it way to a nearby field where she defended her position with blade and shield. Her bashing clanged like a smithy’s hammer on the forge and the steel of their swords met and sparks flew from the force of those strikes.

At the end of the short battle four elves lay dead in the farmer’s field. She was confused as she collapsed to the ground crying out from within, “Why, two of these were farmers. Why did they attack me too? How much hate can one nation have for others?” She paused then screamed to herself, “I didn’t want this, not this death.” Silence fell amongst them and all that could be heard was the call of the wildlife from the nearby forests.

She thought quietly, “she had seen enough; it was time to make her way carefully back to her place of refuge so she could clean herself up and recover from what she had discovered.”

She paused, taking in the surrounding area, and deciding on moving back up past the old empty brewery. She thought to herself, “I can pick up the trails that led to where she was staying.

The dream had been correct, she was going to need something beyond strength of body and will. It would take something or others to join her to provide an edge against so many.”