Shattered

She had remembered a table with a map on it near the shrine of Talos in the room below her. She decided to look at that before leaving to scout the area around her. As she drew near the table with the map on it, she noticed a book with an embossed dragon on it. The book looked to be very old. She stood there staring at it.

It was in that moment that a wave of voices overcame her, “Lingrah Krosis Saraan Strundu’ul, Voth Nid Balaan Klov Praan Nau. Naal Thu’umu, Mu Ofan Nii Nu, Dovahkiin, Naal Suleyk Do Kaan, Naal Suleyk Do Shor, Ahrk Naal Suleyk Do Atmorasewuth. Meyz Nu Ysmir, Dovahsebrom. Dahmaan Daar Rok.”

She fell to her knees in submission and felt herself lost in the clutches of these ancient voices speaking in tongues. A language that held power and intent in its meaning. A language of transformation and change.

Then she heard a single voice behind her calmly say, “Long has the Storm Crown languished with no worthy brow to sit upon. By our breath we bestow it now to you in the name of Kyne, in the name of Shor, and in the name of Atmora of old. Dovah Do Daah Bok, the Dragon of this Age. Hearken to it.”

It was a time without memory that she was lost inside herself. The voices were gone, the bright light that had filled the room was gone too. It was only her left with the realization that she had been chosen, she was now Dovah Do Daah Bok, the Dragon of this Age.

The tears filled her eyes with release. They flowed down her cheeks as she now understood that she was meant to be the instrument of the gods in this age. To bring about a reformation of intent to fulfill the prophecy of the last age, that which had been forsaken, that which had been shattered and swept aside.

She found some steps in the same room leading up to a loft type area. A bedroom, with a shrine of Akatosh himself, the first being, he who came before the others sitting on a shelf above the bed. She was so tired, she still had that headache too, she still couldn’t remember what happened before she woke up in that cave. She laid her weapons up against the wall to the open end of the loft. She then loosened her armor, and let it fall on the floor, she walked over to the wardrobe, found several robes, she selected one and pulled it over her head and laid down to let sleep and her dreams take her to happier places.

She thought she had woken up. There was an old man dressed in priest clothing sitting at the chair near her bed. He watched her as she sat up and then he said, “Tomorrow, travel into the surrounding lands. Survey what betrayal has taken place by those who were supposed to be part of the past golden age. Come to know how they left the land shattered and the people lost to a war of useless slaughter.” He paused, she wondered, “who is this priest that has come into this home, into my bedroom?”

She was distressed by this priest or whatever he was. She then noticed he seemed to sense her discomfort, “Know that you are safe here with me, my time is short, I can only stay a short while but will always be listening, waiting if you need me, or us. We are all here for you. Trust in the nine.”

He pondered something then spoke again, “After returning from the day prepare yourself for a journey. Go to Ivarstead, then take the seven thousand steps up to the ancestral home of the Greybeards. There you will begin your discovery of who you are and why you are here. There, you will begin to know the blessings we have left upon you. “

He was silent for a moment then began again, “Know you this is not without precedence. In the age before, there was one who came before you. In that sacred place of knowledge and learning you will find a book. It is the only one left. It will have the words of her story, her sacrifice, her destiny from that past golden age. Know that you and she are linked, you are part of their story now.”

He paused again, then stood up and said, “Rest now our daughter, sleep in comfort and peace this night for you will need it to bear witness to what has befallen this land and its peoples. Know that we are always here, if you need us, call on us.”

She was now waking up, her headache nearly gone, she felt refreshed, alive, and ready for whatever the day would bring. She got up and changed back into her armor, then strapped her weapons on. Then she saw the chair, the memories of her dreams came roaring into her thoughts. She was nearly overwhelmed by the impact of its message and nearly swooned into darkness as the emotions almost took her away.

She recovered from that memory, stored it away for now. She knew she needed to get started to have time to scout the lands around Whiterun. It was time for her to discover what happened here.

She knelt with her bow in hand watching, listening, but there was nothing but the flow of the river, the sound of the breeze, the woodland animals, the wolves behind her higher up in the mountains beginning their evening song.” She had noticed though that there was smoke coming from the fireplace of the home. She contemplated, “It looks well care for. How did that happen in a land so shattered and torn everywhere else she had seen?”

She made her way across the bridge and then hesitated at the doorway. She looked around the doorway and saw an old parchment laying on top of a barrel set to the left of the entry door. It had a drinking cup sitting on top of it to keep it from blowing away. She slid the note out, opened it and this is what the note had written on it, “the key to your life is discovered by the light of nature’s vault.” The sun was setting and the moon was rising. The combined rays dazzled a glass jar sitting to the side of a barrel by the door.

She opened it and found a key. She thought, “odd, but okay let’s give it a try.” She slid the key into the lock and turned it. The door opened and she stepped into a world that felt so much like a home.

She stood there numb not believing what she had found, a warm fire blazing in the hearth, food sat on the table, a well adorned room that looked as if it had been lovingly cared for. She noticed the statue and blessing shrine sitting behind the table and thought to herself, “Mara, the divine mother! Was it her that had prepared this way. She was widely worshiped across Tamriel; Black Marsh, Cyrodiil, Hammerfell, High Rock, Morrowind, The Reach, and even the Summerset Isles.”

She decided to check the rest of the home to see what else was there for her to use. As she made her way down some stairs, then across a few rooms, she was stunned to find so much here. A room for storing and displaying armor and weapons, a room for companions or guards, and then she entered another room and found a full working forge; with all the tables, grindstone, and anvil to maintain her weapons and armor or make new ones.

She thought briefly, “A forge to develop the weapons of change, the armor to stand against the coming storm.” She chuckled to herself, “What am I? A philosopher now!”

She turned and walked into another area where she found a full-size shrine of Talos, an enchantment and alchemy table with another fireplace. A blazing fire lit up the room with its warmth and glow. Then she thought, “This place isn’t just a home but a shrine to the gods, they are in every room all the Aedra I am pretty sure. Why, what is happening? I need to eat and sleep soon.” She knelt before Talos and ask, “He who forged an empire guide me in this burden laid upon me.”

She made her way up and over the mountain then up towards Riverwood. It was only about fifty minutes later as she came down from the heights, she found more dead. She came upon the terrible site of a Khajiit caravan.

Its people scattered dead across the road, lying dead in the snow and dirt. As she examined the tracks, the lay of the wagons, the dead Khajiit, she could see that this had been done by something unnatural and not something that would normally be born of this world.

The warning of the dream came back to her, and she slowly slid out her sword and placed her shield in her left-hand so she could be ready. She stood there for a moment listening, but whatever had been here, killed all these Khajiit, no easy feat of itself, considering what fierce warriors they could be, had left as the woodland around was quiet, normal, nothing out of place.

Khajiit, from Ta’agra, the spoken language of them means desert dweller. They are cat-like people who come from Elsweyr, a region that lies on the southern coast of Tamriel. It is divided into two major climates: savannas, badlands, and dry plains in the north, and fertile land of jungle and rain-forests in the south.

Many of the other races commonly thought of the Khajiit as good thieves and acrobats but also known to be good sailors and fierce warriors. Although, most cities, especially in Skyrim would not have allowed them inside the city walls out of fear of being robbed blind, they were allowed to setup camp outside the gates and trade and barter their goods with the locals who liked to spend time with them.

She slid her sword back in its sheath, placed her shield on her back and continued to work her way down towards Riverwood. She decided to take a cautious approach, not knowing what to expect. She crossed the White River and made her way up above the small falls that fell off the cliff sides across from the town. She felt it would give her a good advantage to observe without being noticed before going into town or passing by.

As she arrived and took up a spot across the river from Riverwood she was shocked by the total ruin of the town. All that remained were skeletal frames of what was once people’s homes, their business, the inn. All of it appeared to be in shambles now. She watched in silence with the wind blowing through her hair. There was nothing moving in the town although the wood mill wheel was still turning.

It began to snow lightly, she thought quietly, “the tears of Riverwood falling from the heavens like snowflakes.” She thought to herself, “What happened here, just like in Helgen, ruins and rubble, no people, all of it left shattered.” She had made her way up with the snow beginning to fall lightly, the darkness was beginning to set in. She thought, “What ends was all this destruction for, what purpose did it serve to destroy so many lives, so much. There were families living there in Riverwood. What became of them I wonder?”

She looked one more time, with her eyes swelling with tears from what she had witnessed so far, “Oh Talos, what has happened to this land that was once the home of so many families? Are they all gone now, have they all gone to Sovngarde or some other place for the final rest?” She continued across the upper ridge and came across something from another age, an Oblivion Gate. She mused, “What portent does this bear upon my future and what is to come for Skyrim.”

She then went down towards an overlook she remembered would allow her to view the way down from Riverwood towards the crossroads near the Honningbrew Meadery. She mused briefly, “they made a fine ale she can remember having at the inns in Whiterun.”

As she made her way down to the overlook, there it was, the place of her dreams. She could almost hear the voice again, “Here you will stay, here you can begin to reclaim what had been lost and restore hope to this shattered land.” She continued with her thoughts, “I’ll make my way down to that outcrop below. There I can observe the place and make sure it is safe to make my way across the bridge and investigate the home and its surroundings.

She thought while observing below, “I wouldn’t think there would be anyone around since so many of the towns and its people appear to be gone, either to their final rest or migrated to some other province where they could live in peace and raise their families.”

When she awoke, she had decided to explore the lake nearby. She remembered there were two small villages there, Oakwood, a small town located in southern Skyrim, northeast of Falkreath and southwest of Whiterun. It was generally east of the North Keep and had a connection to Neurgrad Watch, a small settlement near the ruins of Fort Neurgrad.

She had taken down the wards, the campsite and made her way down to the road leading along the lake towards Oakwood. On her way she had seen an old, abandoned campsite. As she continued, she noticed a shrine of Talos setting up on the hill. She went up to see it.

When she arrived at the shrine her heart dropped, and she fell to her knees in disbelief. There at the shrine, were innocent worshipers all slaughtered. Nearby, her first evidence of what might be occurring was there. A dead Thalmor Justiciar off to the side. There was nothing she could do for them. She would see if anyone was alive in Oakwood. If so, maybe they would help her to see them buried properly, so they could find their way home again. As she neared the approach to Oakwood. Not but maybe two hundred yards from the gate, a pack of wolves attacked her.

She was surprised when a spirit wolf appeared. It attacked them fiercely. Between the two of them the wolf pack lay dead on the road into Oakwood. The spirit wolf raised its head to call into the heavens and then disappeared.

She made her way into Oakwood. The town was untouched. It was as it had been described to her in the past or maybe as she remembered. She stood there in the town center. “It seems like I’ve been here before. She wasn’t sure though. It could just be something that seemed familiar. She needed to speak with some of the people here to see what they knew of what had happened.”

She paused then and thought, “I’ll have to be careful though, I don’t want them to think I am crazy or something. Maybe I can just tell them I was knocked out by a falling branch off an old tree and had a touch of not remembering.”

She made her way towards the end of town speaking with people as she went but no one seemed to be aware of what was going on. She found the blacksmith and thought she would pay him to touch up her weapons a bit.

The blacksmith opened her eyes a bit about things. He said while working on tempering her sword, “The great war that was supposedly ended with the signing of the White Gold Concordant, was betrayed, and they invaded Skyrim. Some out of the way places like our little village, were left alone but many towns and cities were shattered. Maybe beyond return.”

He went silent after that; she noticed it seemed to take something out of him to even speak of it. Then she asked, “I’ve seen nothing but destruction and misery after coming from near Helgen. There are some dead Talos worshiper that need burial services performed. They’re up the road, the Talos shrine that stands of the hillside.”

He flinched when he heard that. Stood up and handed her the sword and said, “This should do you for a while. No payment needed. These are hard times for everyone.” He turned then and went back to work hammering out some steel on the forge. She turned, thought deeply about the wounds people were carrying. These people are numb, they don’t even want to know anymore what’s going on. Just living it day-to-day”, she thought.

She doesn’t know when it began but at some point, a dream came upon her. It was almost like she was being told or commanded to go through Riverwood but to be cautious. She remembers a voice, a lady’s voice, “My child, there is an ancient terror that has decided to take up residence there, guarding the town. There is nothing left there but the ghost of some who are too lost to find the way home.” The voice implied, “it could be dangerous for you at this time.”

The dream then showed me a home, remote across the White River flowing down from Riverwood to Whiterun. It appeared to be isolated up against a cliff side with only one way to it across the bridge. It felt as if the dream was telling me this would be a good place to start my exploration and reclamation of this land. Why was it she felt she had to reclaim it.

Also, the dream said that I had a destiny to fulfill. That in time I would learn more of who I was, and how to go free this land. That there had been another who had come and set the foundations of the new age in motion. Her story will be heard in time but now is your time. Afterwards, the dream let go and I felt myself fall into a warm comfortable slumber, resting, healing, and being restored with each soft breath I took.

She made her way up to Helgen knowing she might find some answers there. As she came upon the town, she noticed the gates were gone and there was no movement coming from the town. She arrived and stepped through the open gate. Helgen now lay in ruins as she stood there wondering to herself, “how long has it been? It appears as if it’s been this way for some time now.” She then thought, “I better have a look around and see if I can find any clues as to what happened.”

As she entered the town, she could not see anyone or anything, the place was empty. All that was left were the halfway collapsed buildings, and ruins of what had once been here. Her memories were still fuzzy of her past, but she remembers somehow, there was a time when there were trips from Cyrodiil. It was located to the north of Helgen. In those days it was still a thriving stopover for people traveling in or to Cyrodiil, the capital province of Tamriel.

She knew she had to find a place to set up as a home. Somewhere she could quietly come and go. A place where her presence would not be noticed by whomever or whatever might still be hanging around these lands. Staying here, at what used to be Helgen, would not be a good choice as it still may be used as a camping place and holdover for those crossing over from or to various lands.

She continued to explore what was left of Helgen looking for something that would help explain what had happened. She stood in front of what used to be the inn and the old watchtower.

It was getting dark, she decided to find what she could and set up a temporary campsite at the top of the tower. She felt no one would disturb her this high up. She setup some wards first that would give her time if someone should get nosy.

She thought, some rest might help clear the cobwebs in my brain. Not sure of what happened but there’s a chunk of my past I can’t remember no matter how hard I try. Something has happened, and how do I know how to perform ward magic? Was I a mage at the college or a battle mage in my past? Where did this knowledge come from and why did it feel so instinctive?

She prepped the bedding and set the outer and inner wards to protect her as she slept. She used what she instinctively felt were fear runes. These would increase a person’s natural fears to a heightened level. That would keep most people or creatures away while she slept. She then laid down, pulled the fur up over her, then fell into a deep slumber.

She got up and began walking down the trail a bit when she spotted a man. He was standing by a covered wagon, two people lying still in the
back and the horse in front dead. Was he investigating what had happened to them or was this something else? Her hand went to the hilt of her sword automatically. When she approached the man called out, “That’s close enough! I would turn around if I were you unless you want to end up like these other two in the back of the wagon.”

She was surprised at her reaction, but she slid her sword out and rushed him with her shield centered to bash him upon contact. There was no hesitation, and the clash of arms could be heard ringing out in the silence of the morning.

When the battle was over, he lay dead on the ground. She didn’t know why she reacted with such a deadly response. She thought, “I felt angry once I heard him state his intentions. After seeing the two elders laid out dead in the back of the wagon, she remembered thinking, “retribution has come upon you.”

She quietly spoke to herself, “Why did this happen? Where are the soldiers from Helgen? How could this elderly couple be slaughtered for a few pieces of gold.” She made her way up to Helgen knowing she might find some answers there.

“In the moments we are awakened. It is there that we become aware that transformation, change, and disruptions are the true arts of life.”

How did this begin? She rubbed her forehead, working at an invisible headache that was not so much physical as mental. All she remembers now is waking up lying by a small fire near the mouth of a cave. She had gotten up and was unsure of how she had gotten here. She saw a log nearby and took a seat on it while she tried to orient herself.

She thought to herself, “Did I build this camp? Why is it I can’t remember that?” With that thought she realized, “I don’t remember who I am or what my name is!” She sat there in silence letting this all settle in place.

Then she looked around and a memory came to her, “This was below what was formally the town of Helgen. Referred to as the “Gateway to the North”. Helgen picked up that name due to all the travelers who came there passing from Cyrodiil, it was fortified and maintained by the Mede Empire Dynasty that came from the ashes of what had once belonged to the line of Septims.

She wondered, “I should get up scout around and visit the town. See if anyone there knows something. Maybe someone found me and set up this camp for me.”

“History states it began with the decline of the Septim Dynasty beginning with the defeat of Uriel Septim V, in the mystical lands of Akavir. That invasion was ill-fated and resulted in the loss of a considerable portion of the Empire’s military strength.

Afterwards came the Oblivion crisis, also known as the Great Anguish, a total war between the Daedra and the population of Tamriel. It began with the assassination of Uriel Septim VII and all his known heirs.

That crisis was won by the sacrifice of Martin Septim, an unknown heir of the Septim bloodline.  Martin would sacrifice himself to close the gates of Oblivion (Land of Daedra and Dedric Princes) and seal them away from Mundus (Land of man), thus restoring peace.

Then came the Great War. A result of the rise of the Thalmor in Summerset, the home of the Aldmeri Dominion. After a great struggle, an uneasy peace treaty named the White Gold Concordant was signed.

The signing of the treaty and banning of the worship of Talos, the man who had become a god had given rise to a civil war between the Empire (Imperials) and the Stormcloaks (True Sons and Daughters of Skyrim).

However, peace had not yet found its place. As civil war raged across the lands of Skyrim, the dragon known as “The World Eater” had returned from legend.

He came through the “Time Wound (A tear in time)” created in the first age by men who revolted against the dragons of that age. Once again, he, the first born, threatened the known civilizations of Tamriel with the prophecy of the end times.

It was then that hope was at last found. Akatosh, the first being. The “Father of Dragons” intervened. He who had been forsaken had combined his blood with Alessia, “The Lady of Heaven” to bring forth “The Last Dragonborn”, destined to defeat Alduin, the first born of Akatosh.

Through this act, the Alessian prophecy would be fulfilled and the line of the Septims restored to the “Ruby Throne”. But that is a story for another time, another place. However, do not believe there is no context as to its purpose for this story. There is an old saying that “The line of time connects all things as one, without its purpose all life would be done.”

It was during this age of peace that a new faction of the Thalmor rose to political power. They convinced the might of the Aldmeri Dominion to crush the rebellious Nords who lived in Skyrim.

The great alliances of old were called upon by the weakened line of kings and queens of Summerset. Many of the political class had not forgotten the part the Nords played in helping to bring about the collapse of the “Elven Empire.”

The covenant established by Akatosh, and he that had been forsaken, to bring about the golden age of peace and restore the empire to the rule of those blessed with the dragon blood had now been broken.

Great battles took place at that time. Many lives on both sides now laid in final rest in the lands of what had once been the great hope of the “Sons and daughters of Skyrim,” where the “Songs of the return” sat silent and unread.

Where would the children of Atmora now find refuge? Would they ever be able to return to the home of their fathers and mothers, to pick up the books again and sing the songs left silent in this age of the Shattered kingdoms.

The Elven Empire’s dominion was achieved after many years in Skyrim. However, at what cost had they accomplished it. The banners of The Dominion flew within all the holds of the land known as Skyrim now, but the land and its peoples were left shattered and empty.”