Chapitre 1: Skyrim
Marcus Nord, a tall young man with broad shoulders, tiredly entered his room. He had finished arguing with his aunt and uncle for the nth time in the past two months. Marcus sat on his bed and cupped his head with his hands.
'How did it get to this?' He asked himself, even though he knew the answer, but he couldn't understand why.
Two months ago, he had represented his country in archery at the Olympic games. He was so close to getting a medal, but in the end, he finished 4th. Marcus was disappointed that he didn't get an award, but finishing 4th when he was only 19 years old wasn't anything to scoff at. Unless something terrible happened to him, he would participate in at least 3 or maybe 4 more Olympic games. Archery, after all, wasn't a sport where one would have to be in top physical condition to compete. There was even a 42 years old man participating in the contest, and he had finished 11th.
The few friends that he had were proud of his achievement, but his aunt and uncle, the two people that took care of him ever since he was 2, didn't approve of his performance, however. Ever since that day, the two would argue and fight with him for his poor performance. Saying how they have only wasted their time and money on him and his hobby.
Marcus sat on his bed for a few more minutes before remembering something his best friend John had advised him. He had asked him for advice on what he should do to take his mind off of this, and his friend told him to try and play a few games. Marcus wasn't much of a gamer, but John was precisely that. Every other day, he would pull off all-nighters and boast about his achievements to him.
John had bought him a game and briefly given him an explanation about it. Dragons, multiple different races, magic, and even archery. That brief explanation was what Marcus needed to at least be interested in the game. John hadn't told him anything about the story since he didn't want to spoil him the incredible adventure as he described it.
Marcus stood up from his bed and moved to his desk. He opened his laptop and clicked on the game John bought him. The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim Special Edition. The game quickly loaded, and he was on the main menu.
"Dovahkiin, Dovahkiin, naal ok zin los vahriin,
Wah dein vokul mahfaeraak ahst vaal!
Ahrk fin norok paal graan fod nust hon zindro zaan,
Dovahkiin, fah hin kogaan mu draal!..."
Listening to the song, his heart beat with excitement. Marcus loved music almost as much as he loved archery. His voice was deep, and he enjoyed singing the few songs that he knew. The few of his friends that had heard him, told him that he wasn't half bad at singing.
Marcus listed to the song for at least a dozen minutes before snapping out of his trance. He could have stayed in the main menu for at least another hour enjoying the song, but he decided to see what this game has to offer.
'If the song before the game even started was this good, the game itself should be amazing, right?' Marcus though, but the game was even more extraordinary than he believed, however. He clicked on new and was enveloped in darkness.
Marcus felt a cold breeze and shivered in response. Groggily, he opened his eyes and looked around. He was in a wagon that was traveling through a forest. The forest reminded him a bit from the ones in the country he was born in, Norway. Marcus had visited his home country a few times, but he mostly stayed in Ireland, where his aunt and uncle raised him.
In front of the wagon, there was another wagon that had four people on it, and in front that, there were about a dozen men, dressed in some sort of medieval white-greyish armor, that were leading the way on horses.
Including himself, there were four people on the wagon that he was on. Two were dressed in blue medieval-looking fur clothing, while the other was dressed in rags. All of them had their hands bound by a rope. Marcus looked down and noticed that his hands were also bound and that he was dressed in rags as well.
"What the hell?! Is this a dream." Marcus whispered, and the people on the wagon heard him. The one sitting in front of him looked at him. The man had shoulder-length blond hair and green eyes.
Marcus first thought that this was a dream, a very realistic dream, but the cold breeze that he was feeling spoke otherwise. In no dream had he ever felt something like this. He pinched his thigh with his hands and felt pain. 'Oh, God. Where am I and what happened?'
"Hey, you. You are finally awake." The blond man said. "You've been out cold for the past two days. Those imperial bastards must'a hit you hard to knock you out for so long."
Marcus started trembling not from the cold, but from being terrified at his situation. He only wanted to play a game to get distracted from his family problems and had no idea how he ended up here. He thought that he might have been kidnapped, but then why were the people dressed like this? Why were they riding horses? Why were there other people with him? Were they also kidnapped?
"What do you mean? Why am I here?" Marcus weakly asked. He had no idea what was happening.
"I can't tell you that. You've been here before they even captured us. We were trying to cross the border when we walked right into the Imperial ambush, same as that thief over there." The blond man pointed with his head towards the man dressed in rags.
'Border? Imperial ambush? What kind of nonsense is this?' Marcus thought.
"Damn you, Stormcloaks. Skyrim was fine before you came along. The Empire was nice and lazy. If they hadn't been looking for you, I would have stolen that horse and be halfway to Hammerfell." The thief cursed and looked towards Marcus. "You there. You and me, we shouldn't be here. It's those damn Stormcloaks the Empire wants."
'Skyrim? No! No! No! That's not possible!' Marcus thought.
"We are all brothers and sisters in binds now, thief." The blond man said.
"Skyrim?" Marcus gulped. "I-I'm in Skyrim?" He asked with a trembling voice. 'There is no way, right? It's not possible!'
"Indeed, we are, but it won't be for long. Sovngarde awaits us." The blond man answered.
"What the fuck do you mean?" The thief asked and turned towards the last person on the wagon, who hadn't said a word so far. "And what the fuck is with him? Why is his mouth also bound?"
"Watch your tongue, thief!" The blond man spoke in anger, not pleased with how he addressed the last member on the wagon. "You are speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak. The true High King!"
"Ulfric Stormcloak, the Jarl of Windhelm? You are the leader of the rebellion!" The thief said with venom in his voice. "Oh, gods! If they have captured you, then where are they taking us." The thief's eyes widen with realization. "That's what you meant when you said that Sovngarde awaits us. No! This can't be happening. This isn't happening!"
Marcus also thought the same thing. 'This can't be happening.' He only wanted to play Skyrim to take his mind of his family problems, he didn't want to physically experience the game. Marcus desperately wished that this was only a dream, but with how realistic everything was, something told him that wasn't the case.
The blond man asked the thief something, but Marcus didn't hear it. He was already lost in his thoughts with his head hung down. 'Why am I here? How did I end here? How do I go back?'
Marcus couldn't answer any of those questions and started breathing heavily. He started sweating, and his whole body trembled in fear. He was suffering from a panic attack from being thrown in this unknown situation.
Before he even realized it, the wagon stopped. Looking around, Marcus noticed that they were in some sort of a medieval village. There were houses made of wood and towers made of stone around them.
"Why did we stop?" The thief asked.
"What do you think? End of the line." The blond man answered. "Let's go, shouldn't keep the Gods waiting for us."
Marcus didn't know what's happening, but he dearly hoped it would be over soon. Weakly, he stood up with the rest and disembarked the wagon.
"No, wait! We are not rebels!" The thief yelled.
"Face your death with some courage, thief." The blond man said.
The concept of death terrified Marcus even more than he already was, if that was even possible. Like any other person, he didn't want to die. But his mind drifted to something he would have never even imagined he would think of. 'Maybe, just maybe, I will return back home if I die. I would wake and realize that this is nothing but a nightmare. A horrible, horrible nightmare.'
"You've got to tell them! We weren't with you! This is a mistake!" The thief yelled, but no one listened to his pleas.
"Step towards the block when we call your name! One at a time!" A woman said with an authoritative voice.
"The Empire loves their damn lists." The blond man said with a sigh.
"Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm." A man dressed in armor said with a steady tone, albeit with a tinge of venom, while holding a list. Ulfric walked up without any hesitation.
"Ralof of Riverwood." The man said sadly afterward. Ralof stopped before the man with the list for a moment and stared at him, before following his Jarl without hesitation
"Lokir of Rorikstead." The man continued, and the thief stepped up.
"No! I'm not a rebel! You can't do this!" Lokir yelled out and ran with all his might afterward. He didn't make it far before he was shot down by archers.
Seeing someone killed in cold blood, Marcus's face turned blue. The people wearing the armor turned towards the rest of the prisoners as if nothing ever happened.
"Wait. You there. Step forward." The man with the list said while looking at Marcus. With shaking legs, he weakly walked up to him.
"Who are you?" The man said while observing the young man in front of him. Marcus was tall with broad shoulders, short blond hair, and piercing blue eyes. His appearance was plain, and he wasn't extremely handsome. His face was a mixture of blue and white. Obviously, the young man was scared out of his mind.
"M-Marcus N-Nord." Marcus barely managed to utter his name. The man with the list sadly shook his head. "You've picked a bad time to come to Skyrim, kinsmen" The man assumed that Marcus is a Nord due to his appearance and since he called himself Nord. Most people in Skyrim don't have a surname, so he believed Marcus was stating his race.
The man then turned towards his right, where a woman in armor stood. "Captain, he is not on the list. What should we do?"
Hearing him, Marcus for a moment thought that maybe, just maybe he will be let free. And someone will explain to him what is happening.
The female captain hesitated for a moment, but a man dressed in black robes with gold-colored skin walked up to her. He had amber eyes, shoulder-length golden hair, and a pair of pointy ears sticking from under his hair. He whispered something to the captain and she nodded.
The woman then said. "Forget the list, Hadvar. He goes to the block."
"By your orders, Captain." Hadvar looked towards Marcus with saddened eyes. The young man wasn't with the rebels that much he understood. Marcus wasn't wearing any of the Stormcloak armor and wasn't on the list. He felt sad about the fate of the young man, but there was nothing he can do about it.
"I'm sorry. At least you will die here, in your homeland." Hadvar said.
'No, no I won't. This is not my homeland.' Marcus thought and hung his head down.
"Follow the Captain, prisoner." Hadvar commanded and Marcus followed the armored woman. She led him to where the rest of the prisoners were lined up.
"Ulfric Stormcloak. Some here in Helgen call you a hero, but a hero doesn't use a power like the Voice to murder his King and usurp his throne. You started this war, plunged Skyrim into chaos, and now the Empire is going to put you down, and restore the peace." A man dressed in armor that looked different from the rest of the soldiers there said.
As soon as he finished his sentence, a roar was heard from far away in the blue skies. Everyone looked up in a panic but saw nothing.
"What was that?" Hadvar asked from behind Marcus.
"It's nothing. Carry on!" The man who spoke to Ulfric commanded.
"Yes, General Tullius!" The female captain agreed with him and turned towards a woman dressed in yellow priest clothing. "Give them their last rites."
The priest began chanting and Marcus didn't understand half the words she said. "As we commend your souls to Aetherius, blessings of the Eight Divines upon you, for you are the salt and earth of Nirn, our beloved..."
Her chant was interrupted by one of the Stormcloak soldiers. "For the love of Talos, shut up and get this over!" The soldier walked up with confidence to the block. He got down on his knees and placed his head on it. "Come on, I don't have all morning for this."
"My ancestors are smiling upon me, Imperials. Can you say the same?" He asked.
The only answer he received was from the executioner and he didn't answer him verbally. He raised the halberd he was holding and chopped the soldiers head off like had done it numerous times before.
"As fearless in death, as he was in life." Ralof said from the right of Marcus.
'Can I accept my death like him? Do I have another choice?' Marcus thought and his mind drifted to the same thing he thought earlier. 'I-I will just wake up after they chop my head off, right?' He gulped down the saliva that was filling his mouth.
The female captain pointed at Ralof next, but before she could say anything, the black-robed man walked up to her. He whispered something to her, pointed at Marcus, and the captain nodded.
"Next, the Nord in the rags." The female captain said and pointed at Marcus. He was about to step forward, but stopped when they heard the roar from earlier once again.
"There it is again. Did you hear that?" Hadvar asked.
"I said, NEXT PRISONER!" The female captain didn't care the slightest about the roar.
"To the block, prisoner. Nice and easy." Hadvar addressed Marcus sadly.
With shaky legs, he started walking. With each step he made he was getting closer to his death. To Marcus, it felt like he had walked thousands of miles before reaching the block.
Unlike the soldier before him, he didn't have to courage to place his head on the block. Not that he needed to since someone pushed him from behind. The soldiers hadn't even bothered to remove the head of the Stormcloack and it started at Marcus with lifeless eyes.
He felt nauseous and started coughing. If there was something in his stomach, he was sure that he would have puked it all out. He turned his head away from the dead Stormcloak just in time to see something he had never expected even in his wildest dreams. Marcus saw a Dragon, as dark as the night, fly out from the mountains.
"What in Oblivion is that?" General Tullius asked in fear.
The massive beast landed on top of a stone tower the moment that the executioner was about to chop Marcus's head. The Dragon's landing caused a small earthquake, the executioner tumbled, and his halberd flew out of his hands. The weapon dropped right in front of Marcus almost chopping his head off. But the young man paid no attention to that. He was in a daze staring at the black Dragon as it was staring at him. Its piercing red eyes looked like two portals leading straight to hell, and he couldn't look away.
"DRAGON!" The people screamed from behind him.
"Puny mortals! Alduin, the World-Eater can not be stopped!" The Dragon spoke in a foreign language that Marcus was somehow able to understand.
"FUS RO DAH!" The Dragon spoke again and massive shockwave erupted from its mouth. The shockwave passed right above Marcus and sent everyone else tumbling.
Everyone was panicking before General Tullius yelled. "What are you all doing? Slay that damn beast!"
Marcus laid there on the block and stared at the Dragon in a trance. He was too terrified to even move away from where he was. Suddenly, he felt someone pick him up and that snapped him out of his daze.
Hadvar had run to him and got him on his feet. "Stop staring at the beast, kinsmen. Follow me." Hadvar grabbed Marcus and started pulling him away from there.
The Imperial soldier felt bad for the young man. If he wasn't sure that Marcus wasn't part of the Stormcloaks before, he was more than certain now. Once the Dragon attacked, all the Stormcloak ran away leaving Marcus behind. In fact, no one had bothered with the young man, even the Imperials.
Hadvar wasn't sure if he could escape from Helgen, especially with him trying to save Marcus, but he was damn sure that he would try. The young man didn't deserve this.
The next 10 to 20 minutes were nothing but a blur to Marcus. He didn't know how the two had managed to survive for so long, but Hadvar had managed to lead him to an open court in front of a stone building.
The Imperial soldier, much like Marcus, had no idea how they had managed to keep their lives while running through the fire and falling buildings of Helgen. On more than a few occasions, the Dragon had fired its fire breath or a building had collapsed right in front of them, yet they had managed to escape unscathed from those situations. His armor was a bit charred, but he had no serious injury.
The only explanation that Hadvar had is that they survived due to some Divine intervention. Nothing else made sense, but he didn't have time to dwell on that. His childhood friend, Ralof was standing in front of him with two more Stormcloak soldiers behind him. Before any of them could open their mouths, the Dragon landed right next to them and made the earth tremble from its might.
Marcus, who was right behind Hadvar stumbled from the small earthquake. He hit into Hadvar and pushed him on the ground, just as the Dragon roared. "FUS RO DAH!"
A shockwave erupted from his mouth and hit Marcus while passing over the downed Hadvar. He was sent flying straight through a pair of wooden doors before he hit a bunch of barrels.
Hadvar quickly followed after him and found the young man laying on the ground. His hands were no longer bound, and he had a wooden piece sticking out of his stomach. For a moment he hesitated. Should he leave the young man there to bleed out, should he finish him off and lessen his pain, or should he save him? It didn't take him more than a second to decide. Marcus had saved his life by pushing him on the ground, and he will do the same for him.
Marcus's sight was hazy and he only saw a blurry figure in front of him. He was nearly unconscious, his body hurt like hell, and he hoped the person could do something to relieve his pain. Whatever that may be.
Hadvar got on his knees, pulled out a small vial with red liquid and looked towards the young Nord, who was looking at him with pleading eyes. Was the young man asking for him to finish the deed, or was he asking for help? Hadvar didn't care since he had already made up his mind. He will save Marcus even if he had to carry him on his back out of here.
Ralof and the two Stormcloak soldiers ran past him. The two soldiers wanted to decapitate Hadvar while he had his back against them, but Ralof stopped them. "Now is not the time. We have to find Jarl Ulfric and escape from here."
"This will hurt for a bit, but bear with me, the pain will be over soon." Hadvar said and pulled the wood sticking out of his stomach.
"Argh." Marcus let out a gurgle and spat out some blood.
"Stay with me, kinsmen!" Hadvar pulled the cork of his potion and poured it in Marcus's mouth.
The Imperial soldier watched in utter astonishment as the hole the young man's stomach healed in seconds before forming a scar. What he had given Marcus was a health potion of the lowest quality. Hadvar knew that those things could heal wounds, but it would normally take at least a few hours or even days before that happens. He had heard about high-quality potions that could heal wounds in seconds, but this wasn't supposed to happen.
"By the Divine!" Hadvar exclaimed. Had he been given a high-quality potion by mistake? Or was there something special about the young man? Either way, he was sure that even the Gods didn't want to see someone as innocent as Marcus die right here and right now.
Hadvar pulled Marcus up to his feet. "How are you feeling?"
"I-I... don't know." Marcus was as pale as he had seen him when he disembarked the wagon.
"We have no time to waste! The Dragon could destroy this building any moment now! We have to move!" Hadvar said while looking around the room that they were in. He recognized it as the armory of the Imperial soldiers in Helgen. Quickly, he found some armor that should fit Marcus and grabbed a sword and a dagger.
"Quick, put those on and let's get out of here." Hadvar said and handed the items to Marcus. The young man held them in his hands, but didn't do anything else. He was trembling and not moving from his spot.
"What are you doing? Put them on, fast!" Hadvar yelled at him. They didn't have any time to waste.
"I-I..." Before Marcus could say anything else, Hadvar slapped him hard. "Get yourself together. We have to escape!"
"I don't know how to put armor on." Marcus said in a low voice.
"By the Divines! What were you even doing on that wagon as a prisoner?" Hadvar couldn't understand why someone like Marcus would ever be captured. He didn't have the time to dwell on it and quickly helped him put the armor on.
"Do you know how to use a weapon?" Hadvar asked, but didn't wait for an answer. "What am I even asking? You don't, right?" Marcus shook his head to confirm that and whispered. "I can use a bow."
Hadvar looked around but saw no bows in the room. "There are no here. Whatever. Keep the sword and dagger. They might be useful. Now, follow me. There is a tunnel down in the dungeon that leads to a cave. Where that cave leads, I don't know, but it's our best bet at escaping here."
Hadvar led Marcus through the stone building until they reached stairs that led down to the dungeons. The two descended down the stairs and reached a large wooden door that was opened. He raised his hand and stopped Marcus.
"I hear someone speaking on the other side." Hadvar whispered. "Let me do the talking."
Marcus weakly nodded in response. He was in no state to talk with other people at that moment, so he didn't mind. Marcus didn't even know what he is doing and was mostly following Hadvar on auto-pilot. He still had the faintest of hopes that this is a nightmare that he would soon wake up from it, but he was almost certain that's not going to happen. Not after what he went through in the past hour.
Hadvar walked into the room, which was filled with cages. Some of those cages still had fresh corpses inside them. They had probably died no more than a few days ago. There were two Stormcloak soldiers inside with their backs turned towards them, but they had heard the two and quickly turned around.
Hadvar raised his shield and sword in the air and said. "We mean you no harm."
"Yeah, right. We've heard that before. You are dying here Imperial scum. Ralof saved your life earlier, but he ain't here to stop us now." One of the Stormcloaks said and the two charged.
One, who had two axes in his hands, went towards Hadvar and the other, who had a greatsword, went towards Marcus.
With shaky hands, Marcus held the sword in his right and the dagger in his left. He had never been in a fistfight, let alone one with sharp objects. He had no idea what he was supposed to do in this situation. Hadvar knew that as well and called out to Marcus. "Do your best to survive until I handle my opponent and I will come to assist it you."
"Survive?" Scoffed the Stormcloak and looked towards Marcus's shaky hands. "This greenhorn stands no chance against me."
Slow and steady he walked towards Marcus with a glint in his eyes. The Stormcloak was like a predator and Marcus was his prey. "You picked the wrong side." He laughed out and with a single swipe of his sword, he sent Marcus's sword out of his hand. Afterward, the Stormcloak kicked him in the stomach and sent him on the ground.
The soldier laughed at Marcus's sorry state. The young man clearly had no battle experience and the Stormcloak was having fun at this point while looking at Marcus miserably trying to get away from him on the ground. Deciding to end this quickly and help his comrade, he stabbed with his greatsword, aiming towards the heart, but Marcus moved slightly to the side, and the sword stabbed him through his left shoulder. The light armor he had did little to stop the greatsword as it easily pierced through it. "ARGH!"
"Marcus!" Hadvar yelled out, but he couldn't go and help him. The Stormcloak he was fighting was proving to be a tougher challenge than what he anticipated. 'I can't let him die. Not now when we are so close to escaping.' Unfortunately, he couldn't turn his back on the one he was fighting, less he wants to die as well.
The Stormcloak drew his blade of out Marcus's shoulder, and the young man let out another scream. "ARGH!"
Desperately, he was trying to push himself away from the Stormcloak, but his back hit the stone wall behind him. The soldier smirked at him. "Just accept your death, Imperial scum!"
Marcus was scared out of his mind. His shoulder hurt and he couldn't move his left arm. He didn't know what to do, but he felt the dagger that he had in his left hand scrapping against his legs. On pure survival instinct, he grabbed the dagger with his uninjured hand and did something dumb. Something incredibly stupid.
Marcus threw the dagger with all his might towards the Stormcloak. Without his weapon, he would be left completely defenseless, but he didn't know what else to do. He had little to no experience throwing weapons, and the dagger tumbled in the air, flying towards the Stormcloak, who was not prepared for Marcus's desperation move.
Through sheer luck alone, the dagger's sharp end actually ended up hitting the Stormcloak. It pierced his right eye until the entire blade was no longer visible. The lifeless body of the Stormcloack soldier then weakly fell on top of Marcus.
"Golvar!" Screamed the other Stormcloak and got distracted from his fight for a second. That was all the time that Hadvar needed. He bashed him with his shield and with a mighty swipe of his sword, he chopped the Stormcloak's head off. Immediately, he ran to Marcus, afterward.
Hadvar removed the lifeless body of the Stormcloak from him and helped him to his feet. He noticed that Marcus was sweating, trembling, and looked even paler if that was even possible.
"Holy shit. Holy shit. I just killed a man. Holy shit. Holy shit." Marcus kept repeating over and over again.
"Get yourself together, Marcus." Hadvar said, but Marcus didn't hear him. The scene of the Stormcloak dying and falling on him was engraved on his mind, and he kept seeing it over and over again.
Marcus had gone hunting with his uncle on a few occasions and had killed rabbits with his bow as a practice, but killing another human was something else. Something that had never even crossed his mind. He was someone that grew up on Earth where it was engraved on him that killing another human equals bad. It was one of the worse if not the worst sins one could commit.
Marcus was having his second panic attack when he was suddenly slapped by Hadvar. "Snap out of it, kinsmen! It was either you or him! We don't have time for this. Follow me, we have to escape from here!"
Hadvar felt bad for the young man. No matter how much he thought about it, he couldn't understand how someone like him ended as a prisoner. What could have he possibly done to warrant that when this was his reaction to killing someone. He would have loved to sit down and talk with him, but they didn't have the time to spare.
Hadvar opened his pouch and pulled out another health potion. The two would be left with only one more, but he didn't hesitate to give it to Marcus. "Here, drink this."
"What is this?" Marcus weakly asked.
"Health potion, now drink!" Hadvar commanded and watched him carefully. Marcus hesitantly opened the cork and looked towards Hadvar, who gave him a stern look. He knew that the soldier meant him no harm, but drinking something that looked like blood didn't sit well with him. Marcus was nearly unconscious when Hadvar made him drink one the last time, and he didn't know that he had drank one before.
"Drink!" Commanded Hadvar, and Marcus finally mustered his courage to do it. As soon as he emptied the vial, he felt the pain in his shoulder intensify. He reached out with his right hand to grab it by instinct, but Hadvar grabbed his hand and stared at his shoulder.
'By the Divines! He truly is blessed by the Gods!' The hole on Marcus's shoulder healed in seconds like the previous time. Hadvar would understand if maybe, just maybe, he was given a high-quality potion by mistake, but to be given two? He didn't think it was possible. So that meant that there was something special about Marcus. What it is, he didn't know, but he was certain that the young Nord was blessed in some form by the Divines.
Marcus watched his shoulder with astonishment. A moment ago there was a hole caused by a greatsword, but now, there was only a scar as a reminder that he had nearly died. Had he not moved slightly in the last moment, the sword would have pierced his heart, rather than his shoulder. But the fact that he drank some liquid and it nearly restored his shoulder to perfect condition was simply magical.
Hadvar shook his head and said. "How does your shoulder feel? Do you have trouble moving it?"
Marcus did a few circular movements with his left arm and said. "It still hurts, but it feels fine."
'Incredible!' Hadvar thought. Normally, when one heals a wound using a potion or a healing spell, the healed part would feel weaker and it would take a few days for it to fully recover. If he wasn't sure that there was something special about Marcus's body before, he was more than certain now.
"Since your shoulder is fine, let's be on our way." Hadvar said and pointed to an opening on the wall. The hole looked like someone had shot a cannonball and destroyed a part of the wall there. "Right there is our exit. It leads to the cave I told you about. Let's hope we can find another exit before the damned Dragon destroys it as well."
Marcus nodded and followed after Hadvar, who stopped after a few steps. Out of the corner of his eyes, he spotted something that caught his attention. "You said you are good with a bow, right?"
"Better than with anything else." Marcus said.
"You didn't look half bad with a dagger." Hadvar commented while walking towards a table with a simple longbow and quiver with about a dozen arrows on it. Marcus shuddered from being reminded of his first kill. He felt himself being lightheaded before Hadvar shoved the bow and quiver in his hands.
Just having the bow in his hands, he felt calmer and more confident. Marcus had spent the majority of his life while holding one. Without having a bow in his hands, he felt like a part of him was missing.
"Stay behind me. I will protect you. Just make sure you don't shoot me." Hadvar said and led the way.
The two traveled through the tunnel for about 5 minutes before they reached a cavern filled with spider webs. 4 grotesque spiders that were even bigger than dogs, were lying on the ground, already slain by someone else.
"W-what are those?" Marcus asked with a tremble. The large spiders were terrifying, they looked like they were taken straight from someone's nightmare. Or in this case, Marcus's nightmare.
"Frostbite Spider. Giant insects that attack on sight. Thankfully, someone had taken care of them for us, but that means that there is someone else here with us." Hadvar informed him and walked to inspect their wounds.
'Insects? Aren't spiders arachnid?' Marcus thought but didn't question him.
"It looks like they were killed by an axe. All the soldiers from the Imperial Legion use a sword, which means that there are more Stormcloak soldiers here. Be on your guard." Hadvar said.
The Imperial soldier led the way and they traveled through another tunnel. A few minutes later, they reached the end of the tunnel and spotted someone crouching there. Both Hadvar and Marcus instantly recognized that as Ralof. The Stormcloak had heard them approach and turned around.
Hadvar and Ralof stared at each other for a moment without saying a word. Judging by how they didn't immediately attack each other, Marcus realized that those two knew each other on a more personal level.
Just as Hadvar was about to say something, Ralof raised his finger to his mouth and shushed him. He beckoned with his hand and they walked closer to him.
"There's a bear in the next cavern." Ralof whispered. "I was thinking of sneaking past it since one of the Frostbite spiders managed to sneak up on me and bite me." Ralof showed his forearm, which had two nasty bite marks and was turning blue. "But if you two help me, I think we can take it out."
Hadvar stared at Ralof in silence for a moment, before pulling out his last health potion and handing it to him. The Stormcloak's eyes widened in surprise at the gesture. "Why are you doing this?" He whispered.
"We were once best friends, Ralof." Hadvar sadly whispered back.
"We were, now we are enemies. Unless you've decided to switch sides. You will be more than welcome with the Stormcloaks. I will personally speak with Ulfric on your behalf." Ralof said with hopeful eyes.
"You and I know that would never happen. I was thinking of offering you the same deal." Hadvar said quietly and Ralof shook his head. Both had expected that, but they had to at least ask.
"Give me a moment to heal and we could go after the bear." Ralof whispered and looked towards Marcus who was holding his bow. "Unless you can take it down with one shot?"
"Marcus, you don't have to force yourself." Hadvar said. He hadn't seen how good Marcus is with a bow, so he didn't want to put him in a bad situation.
"Let me take a look." With the bow in his hands, he felt bolder and more confident. He also wanted to get away from there as soon as possible. Crouched down, he walked to the end of the tunnel and took a peek in the cavern. Marcus saw the massive brown beast restlessly walking back and forward. All the confidence that had built up inside him from having the bow left him in seconds from seeing the bear. There was no way he was going to kill it with one shot when it was walking around like that.
Marcus had used a longbow before, but he was used to using a compound one. Even with a compound bow, he wasn't sure if he would be able to perfectly shoot the bear in the head since it was moving restlessly. He decided it would be better to not risk and walked back to the other two.
"So?" Ralof asked.
"It's moving too much. I-I don't think I can do it." Marcus said. Ralof didn't respond and closed his eyes while waiting for the potion to do its work. Hadvar, on the other hand, placed a hand on his shoulder. "It's never good to be overconfident in your abilities. After Ralof heals up, we can take it down together."
"Um, why is he taking so long to heal? Has he been poisoned or something?" Marcus whispered while looking at the two bite marks that were ever so slowly healing.
"Not everyone heals as fast as you." Hadvar whispered but didn't say anything else.
About a dozen minutes, later Ralof stood up and quietly said. "The feeling in my arm has returned, so we might as well go after the bear. No point in waiting an hour or so for it be healed."
The three or more like the two, Ralof and Hadvar, then had a brief discussion on how to handle the bear. Marcus was mostly silent and listened to them.
In the end, they decided that it would be best for Marcus to open with a sneak shot. If he can hit a limb to slow its movements would be the best outcome, but even hitting the bear itself would be enough. If he puts enough arrows inside it, the beast would bleed out while Hadvar and Ralof dance around it before finishing it.
The three men crouched down and as silently as they could be, walked into the cavern. Marcus was in the middle and the other two were in front of him on each side, leaving a space in the middle for his shot.
Marcus took a deep breath and held it in before notching an arrow and pulling the string. For the briefest moment, the world slowed down to a crawl for him. He had experienced this sensation on a few occasions before where everything would slow down for him. But this was different. In his eyes, the world might as well have stopped moving.
The bear looked like it was frozen in place. And something overcame him when he watched the beast. For a moment, he felt like an apex predator and the bear was nothing more than his pray. Strenght that he had never had before enveloped him and Marcus didn't even realize that he had pulled the string so far that if he had pulled it slightly more, it would have snapped.
Initially, he would have aimed for its limbs, but the predatory instincts that overcame him changed his mind. Given this opportunity, he would take advantage of it. Marcus lined up his shot and let it loose.
Once the arrow flew towards the bear, he no longer felt the sensation of time slowing down and he lost the feeling of being an apex predator. And with widened eyes, he watched the arrow accurately pierce straight through the bear's eye and into its brain.
In an utter surprise, Marcus looked down at his hands. 'What just happened?'
His two companions also turned around to look at him in wonder.
"It's moving too much he said. I don't think I can do it he said." Ralof said jokingly and clapped him on the shoulder. "You didn't follow the plan, but that was one of the best shots I've seen. Right in the eye of a moving bear. Have more pride in your craft, kinsmen."
Ralof then turned around and said excitedly. "Let's find the exit and get out of this dammed place." The Stormcloak was more than certain there was an exit since a bear had made its home here.
Hadvar didn't follow him, but rather walked up to Marcus. One thing he learned about the young Nord is that he wore his heart on his sleeve. Just by looking at his face, he could read him like a book. And right now, Marcus was just as surprised, or even more than they were from his shot.
"Marcus, you okay?" Hadvar asked.
"I... I don't know. I..." Marcus didn't look at Hadvar and continued staring at his hands. He was still trying to understand what happened earlier.
Hadvar clapped him on the shoulder. "Come now. Let's get out of here before this place decides to bury us here."
It didn't take them long to find the exit of the cave, which was just big enough for a large bear to pass through. After exiting, they found Ralof staring at a mountain that had large stone arches built on it. He heard them exit and turned towards Hadvar.
"You remember this place?" Ralof pointed at the mountain.
"There is no way I forget that ruin. Bleak Falls Barrow. When I was a child, every now and then I would have nightmares about Draugr coming out of the ruins and taking me away." Hadvar said.
"Hah! You always had a weak heart!" Ralof laughed at him.
"At least I didn't get beat up by a girl." Hadvar said with a grin, and Ralof grimaced. "You promised we will never talk about that!"
"Uhm. What's a Draugr?" Marcus asked about the unknown word he heard before their argument could escalate further.
"Draugr are undead Nord warriors. If you visit any old Nord ruin, you are bound to encounter them. I would advise staying away from such places." Hadvar explained, but that brought another question to Marcus. "What exactly do you mean by Nord warriors?"
"You are a Nord! How can you not know that?" Ralof asked, and Hadvar nodded. Any Nord should be aware of that.
"Um. My family name is Nord, but I have no idea what you mean when you say that I'm a Nord." His reply made both of his companions stare at him with wide eyes.
"You're jesting, right?" Both asked in sync, but seeing his confused expression they realized he isn't. "Gods! You don't even know your own heritage! Where had you been living?! Under a rock?" Exclaimed Ralof.
Hadvar looked up towards the sky and said. "We have about 3 or 4 hours before sundown. Riverwood should be about 2 hours away from here judging by where Bleak Fall Barrows is. Let's start walking and we will explain to you, kinsmen."
The three started walking towards Riverwood, and the two soldiers started explaining how Nords are one of the races in Tamriel and the one that had the biggest population in Skyrim. This led to Marcus asking about the other races, and both of his companions got into a lengthy explanation on that part.
Marcus himself didn't care much about skin color since, in the end, everyone was the same on the inside, but that wasn't the case for the people in Tamriel.
Every time another race was mentioned, Ralof spoke with venom about them. It was pretty obvious that he was racist towards anyone that wasn't a Nord. Hadvar was milder compared to Ralof, but he also had his prejudice towards the other races.
Marcus also learned that magic truly existed here, but the mystical arts weren't that accepted by the Nords. They spoke about it like it's some sort of hearsay.
It took them about an hour before they managed to explain all the races that inhabited Tamriel. Marcus tried his best to remember as much as he could, but it was simply too much information for him.
At that point, they had reached a river and since Marcus was feeling tired, they agreed to take a small break. Both Ralof and Hadvar got on their knees and started drinking from the river. Marcus followed their example and cupped some of the water. It wasn't delicious, but at least it had no funny taste to it.
Once everyone had their fill, they sat down next to the river. The three of them had a silent agreement not to talk about what happened in Helgen, but that was broken by Ralof. "Marcus, you should consider joining the Stormcloaks. We can use a shot like you, and you will be with your brothers and sisters. And you can be damn sure, we won't put you on the chopping block." He glared at Havdvar at the end, waiting for his response, but the Imperial soldier stayed quiet and observed Marcus.
"I don't know about that. I-I don't think I have what it takes to join an army." Marcus shuddered in the end, remembering the scene of his first kill. He tried his best to think of something else, but the lifeless body of the Stormcloak falling on him couldn't stop haunting him.
"If you ever change your mind, come to Windhelm. Tell one of the guards you are looking for Ralof, and they will lead you to me. I will make sure to put a good word with Jarl Ulfric for you." Ralof clapped his shoulder. "Now let's get moving to Riverwood! It's been a month since I last saw my sister."
Hadvar knew Marcus was a good shot, but he also knew that the young Nord wasn't a fighter. In the future, maybe he could become a great warrior, but he didn't want to be the one that led him in that path.
"Marcus, you don't have to do anything you don't want to, but Riverwood is a nice little town. With your skills, I'm sure that you will be able to settle down as a hunter. There are a lot of wild animals, that are not as dangerous as a bear, mind you. Give it a few months of hunting and you should be able to gather enough septims to purchase a property and make yourself a small house." Hadvar paused for a moment.
"Whiterun, the capital city of Whiterun Hold, is also nearby, no more than a day journey on foot from Riverwood. The city is in the center of Skyrim and it serves as the commercial heart of the Kingdom. If you happen to need something that Riverwood doesn't have to offer, you can get it from there. Or if you don't happen to like it in Riverwood, you can always move there." He paused again and hesitated, but mustered his courage.
"And lastly, if you ever want to join the Imperial Legion, travel to Solitude. Today wasn't the best introduction to the Legion, but I hope you'll give us another chance. I will speak with General Tuluis and do my best to make sure you are not on the wanted list. What you decide to do is up to you. But if you wish to join the Imperial Legion, your best bet would be to travel to Whiterun and take a carriage from there to Solitude."
Marcus thanked him but said nothing further. He was thankful that Hadvar was looking out for him, but his thoughts drifted back to Earth. Would he ever be able to return back home? Was he stuck here forever? How did he even end up here? He had so many questions, yet no one to answer them.
Something then came to his mind. Both Ralof and Hadvar mentioned Divines or Gods on more than several occasions during their explanation about the different races. If he was a bit more subtle, maybe he could get some answers.
"Um, Hadvar. About the Gods that you spoke about. Are they real? I mean, we did saw a Dragon today, which I never thought I would see in my life, but do the Gods truly exist?" Marcus asked.
Hadvar laughed at his question. "If you had asked me that yesterday, I would have said that Divines are more real than Dragons! Dragons have been extinct for the past thousand years and no one had seen one. While the Divines had blessed us on multiple occasions and showed their miracles."
Marcus had a foreboding feeling about a Dragon returning to Skyrim no more than an hour after he woke up in this world. He remembered the ominous name that the Dragon said "Alduin the World-Eater."
"Where can you find the Divines?" Marcus asked, hoping that if he would be able to understand his situation more.
"You can't find the Divines. You can pray to them and hope your prayer reaches them, but they usually stay in their Domains and don't visit our plane. Why?" Hadvar asked.
"Just asking." Marcus said. "Oh, and one more question. What do you know about Alduin?"
"Alduin? Hmm." Hadvar cupped his chin. "I think I've heard of that name before." He remembered about an old story his grandmother used to tell him and his eyes widened in fear. "Alduin, the Nordic God of Destruction! Grandma used to tell me a story about him. When Alduin returns the Last Dragonborn will come forth and stand against him."
Marcus gulped down the saliva that was building in his mouth and visibly paled when he heard him. 'There is no way! Right?'
Hadvar saw that and asked. "What?" And something hit him. "You think the Dragon that attacked Helgen is Alduin? Oh, Divines! If that is true... We have to move faster." Hadvar picked up his pace and Marcus followed him. He was about to question him if he heard the Dragon say that name, but decided to keep quiet.
They continued walking alongside the river, and Marcus observed the diverse fauna of Skyrim. It was so much like the one on Earth, yet so different, more colorful.
An hour later, they reached Riverwood, and they were greeted by a wall made of wood and stone. Two archers carefully observed them from the wall, but didn't question nor shoot them.
The first thing that Marcus thought is that this is a village and not a town like Hadvar mention earlier but kept that to himself. The buildings were all made of wood and the scenery was peaceful. He shuddered at the thought of the Dragon attacking this place. It would get razed in a matter of minutes.
"Come. My uncle Alvor is the blacksmith working over there." Hadvar pointed towards a building on the left where a bearded Nord with shoulder-length blond hair was hammering a sword.
"Uncle Alvor!" Hadvar greeted him.
"Hadvar? What are you doing here? Are you on leave?" Alvor asked and noticed Marcus who was behind him. "And who is this?"
"This here is Marcus. A friend that saved my life!" Hadvar said, and Marcus wondered when exactly had he done that.
Alvor observed them and realized the condition that the two were in. Hadvar's armor was scorched, burnt, and bloodied. Marcus's armor was in a better condition but it had a hole on his left shoulder. "Shor's bones, what happened to you two?"
Hadvar looked around if any of the villagers were listening to them before saying. "We have to talk uncle. In private."
Hearing his grave tone, Alvor said. "Sure, let's go inside. Marcus looks like he is starving, and Sigrid could get you two something to eat."
Alvor led them to his house, which was a very humble abode compared to the ones Marcus was used to. Everything was made out of wood except for the fireplace in the middle which was out of stone. To Marcus, that screamed fire hazard, but he didn't voice his thoughts.
Sigrid, an older Nord woman with blonde hair, greeted them, and Alvor told her to get them some food. She served them a loaf of bread, some cheese, and a bowl of soup or maybe it was stew. Marcus didn't know nor did he care. He wolfed everything in front of him like a hungry beast. Sigrid then poured him a cup of what she called mead, and after drinking it, Marcus relaxed on his chair and soon fell asleep.
Hadvar was just as hungry as Marcus but he needed to warn his uncle about the Dragon. He told him what happened to Helgen and how they luckily managed to escape. Alvor didn't believe him at first, but Hadvar was adamant that a Dragon had indeed attacked the city.
"You're Imperial comrade seems to be exhausted." Alvor commented, seeing the sleeping Marcus.
Hadvar shook his head. "He is not from the Imperial Legion."
"Then why is he wearing that armor?" Alvor questioned, and Hadvar explained how they had to equip Marcus with something, and mentioned that he was a prisoner, who was about to be executed. Alvor wasn't pleased with that.
"You brought an outlaw to my home?" He asked with anger, but Hadvar shook his head. "Marcus saved my life. He is a good man."
"And how do you know that? He was a prisoner! He could harm my little Dorthe!" Alvor rebuked.
"He shouldn't have been there! Trust me, uncle. I might know him for less than a day, but I can guarantee you he won't do you any harm." Before Alvor could respond, they heard someone knock on the door.
Sigrid opened the door and found Ralof there. "Can I come in? I need to speak with Hadvar." He said.
Meanwhile, to the east of Helgen, the elf dressed in black robes was sitting under a tree. Most of his clothing was burned and he looked miserable. The elf had a small crystal ball in his hand and it started glowing.
"Agen 042, your report is late and that is inexcusable! You should have contacted us hours ago!" A voice came from the crystal ball.
"My apologies Elders, but a Dragon attacked Helgen." The elf said with a tremble in his voice.
There was a moment of silence before a different voice spoke. "You will have to provide us a VERY detailed report about that, but before that, what happened to Ulfric?"
"His status is unknown at the moment. He might have been killed by the Dragon, but he could have escaped." The elf said and another minute of silence followed.
"What of the other one? The one that appeared out of nowhere? What's his status?"
"The same. I can't confirm whether he is alive or dead."
"That's unforgivable! You will be severely reprimanded for your failures! You have a week to confirm the status of both!"
"I-I understand! I will do my best!"
"You better! Or the consequences will be severe!"
"I-If you can tell me more about the unknown one, I might have an easier time tracking him." The elf said with a trembling voice.
"We can't provide you with any information." A different wizened voice spoke. The elf paled, believing he is no longer trusted, and soon to be discarded. "A group of one of our best mages is still inspecting the place he appeared, and they haven't found any clues about how he got there. They speculate it was through a portal, but there was no magic involved. We have no other clues on his sudden appearance."
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone