Lost Dragonborn

The others in my wagon trembled with terror. I sat, eyes downcast, listening to my breath in the brisk air. What season was it? I couldn't remember. But chill clung to air even as the sun pierced the fog that had clung to us. I lifted my head, letting the dancing rays glitter in my blue eyes. Slowly, I rose, ignoring the guard's growl, ordering me to be seated. I stood amongst my wagons companions, my torn and old shift flapping along with my curling black hair, staring at Helgen. The place where I was going to die.


"Stay here and don't do anything troublesome," the guard ordered, slamming the cell behind us.
I  looked at the cuffs around my wrists before glancing upwards into the face of my brothers in chains. They were talking amongst themselves, pondering the war. I didn't understand the politics of this place. I was lucky to even understand the language. A dark chuckle filled my ears and I cringed, bracing for impact.
"This is Skyrim," said the all too familiar voice of Molag Bal.
I remained silent, waiting and he went on.
"This is my gift to you for lasting all those years trapped within Oblivion."
My hands curled into fists as I remembered Oblivion and it's monsters. It was an awful place.
"Enjoy."
I almost smiled. Enjoy? I was about to be executed for unknown reasons and he was urging me to enjoy it.
"What's your story, stranger?"
The question was directed at me by the Nord across from me. His question drew the other's attention and suddenly, I was being scrutinized. I knew what they saw. They saw a Dark Elf whose skin was too light. Whose features were too Nord.
"I was trapped in Oblivion after displeasing Molag Bal," I replied. "After an immeasurable amount of time, he granted me my freedom and here I am."
I waved my hands, indicating the cell. I heard a chuckle from behind me and glanced over my shoulder. Some of the guards were gathered behind me, laughing.
"Molag Bal?" one laughed. "HA!"
I turned back to my cell mates, a dry smile in place.
"Believe it or not," I said. "It's more interest than I'm sure a god has shown you."
One of the guards, a female, took a threatening step forward. I stood, refusing to be intimidated.
"Captain! Do not allow her to get under your skin!" a man ordered.
The woman paused.
"Yes, General," she said, backing off.
She cast a final glare over her shoulder though, as she did. I sat back down, leaning against the bars.
"Impressive," one of my fellow prisoners remarked. " You've got fire."
I studied him, taking note of his blue and golden brown robes.
"What a strange uniform," I remarked.
His lips quirked upwards.
"Stormcloak uniform," he replied.
"I will never understand this world," I decided, adding a sigh.
The men just laughed.


My confusion continued. They let us out to wander, in chains, to prevent us from running. I glanced around, eyeing the moon. I hadn't seen it in decades.
"Never did explain your story, girl."
I glanced to my left, to the armor wearing man beside me. He was one of the guards.
"And what part of my story did I not explain?" I inquired.
"You never explained what you did to displease Molag Bal," he replied.
I smiled his way, my own thoughts drifting back to my many sins, the sins committed before I had crossed Molag Bal.
"That is my secret," I declared, grinning.
"I see, Though it won't be your secret for long. Soon, the gods will share it with you."
My eyes went to the moon again and I sighed.
"I know that well."
I wandered away from him, to the stone wall that surrounded Helgen, running my hand along it. Looking for a way out. Foolish but admirable of me, I decided.
"Does no good to do that. Also, it makes the guards nervous. Makes 'em watch you harder."
The voice was deep and wolfish, sending shivers up my spine. I turned a bit, face to face with the shadows and a man hidden by them.
"And who am I speaking to?" I asked.
A wolfish grin broke through the shadows.
"Imagine the surprise. The Dark Brotherhood gets a contract not to kill but to rescue a target," he chuckled.
"The Dark Brotherhood?" I repeated.
I matched the grin.
"That's a name I haven't heard in a long time."
Almost 200 years to be exact.
"Sithis be praised," I murmured.
"Unfortunately, our leader isn't willing to let you off so easily," he went on.
"Oh really?"
So much for my rescue. The shadows chuckled.
"You want out? I left a horse just outside these walls hidden in the forest. Get out and to the horse. He'll know where to take you."
"How kind of you," I quipped.
The laughter was all I heard as the man faded away. I, meanwhile, glanced around, fully studying Helgen. Perhaps there was an escape route. I just didn't see it.


I never got to look more in depth. We prisoners were ordered inside and locked away for the night, woken up at the crack of dawn  Apparently, the other prisoners had arrived. Despite my impending death, I couldn't keep the wolfish grin off my face as I was forced forward ,on limbs still shaking off sleep, in a most ungentlemanly manner. The female captain watched me, much more than she watched any other prisoner, almost as if she expected me to escape. Well, she wasn't entirely wrong. Still, I could practically see her fingers itch as she watched me walk by her.
"Hodvar!" she barked.
A man, the one from last night who'd further questioned me, hurried over. She nodded my way and I kept my back to her, listening in.
"That prisoner, her clothes are more tattered than they were the night prior. Was there trouble?" she asked.
"Not to my knowledge," Hodvar replied.
I smirked. So like a female to notice an alteration to a dress. I'd ripped the already worn fabric so that it would be easier for me to climb and run. If I was going to pull off my plans, I was going to need as much mobility as possible. My eyes went to the executioner. He was a towering man. He was also blocking on of the guard towers. That would be my escape point. From there on to the wall. Hopefully, I could swipe a sword before hand. Gone was the timid woman who been dropped into this world. Now, I was my usual escape artist self.
"Do not be foolish, woman," a voice whispered to me.
I let my eyes drift, finding a man towering above me, dressed the same as many of my fellow prisoners.
"There is no point to escaping. Face your death with your head held high."
I chuckled.
"Foolish man. You have no idea what I can do," I bragged.
Though it was true. He just had to stand back and watch. Instead, though, he shook his head at my "foolishness" and stepped away from me. Meanwhile, the executions were continuing on their way. I kept my face impassive as I walked forward, watching a man crouch at the block. I almost felt bad. But such was the way that war went. I stopped beside a man who wore no uniform. He was gagged but still he managed a nod my way which I took as a sign that he too knew my plans and he, unlike the other man, approved. I nodded back, glancing down at my bound hands. It was the only complication. There were cries of objection which I assumed meant that a head has just rolled. I wasn't wrong. I noticed, to my right, a priestess. When had she shown up? My eyes narrowed at her. There was something off about her, something not quite right. Meanwhile, she glanced my way, a secret smile in place. That's when I knew for sure. I was being watched by the Dark Brotherhood. Surprise was foolish. I should have expected that someone would be watching. I really had to meet the leader of the Brotherhood.
"The Dark Elf next!" the captain declared, snatching my gaze away from the fake priestess to the execution.
She was looking straight at me and a flash of annoyance went through me. Dark elf? She was only half right. A soldier came to my side, nudging me forward. I cast a glance at him, observing the dagger at his hip. That could be my solution to my bound hands. With a final glance over my shoulder at the fake priestess, I made my move, ducking low and slamming my shoulder into the soldier's side. He was temporarily knocked off balance and I grabbed his dagger, quickly scurrying out of his reach. I sliced through the bonds, ducking around an approaching soldier. An archer readied her bow, aiming right at me. I didn't hesitate for a second, running towards her, dagger ready.
"What is that!?" a voice cried.
A loud roar pierced the fog as the ground shook. Instinct made me look up, finding the winged figure above. My eyes widened, Oblivion flashing into my head. Familiar wings beat the air above me. When I blinked though, a wave of fire was flying straight at me. A strong arm seized my waist, lifting me off the ground and carrying me out of the way. It was the man with the gag.
"Put me down!" I commanded, struggling as he ran for one of the guard towers.
He ignored my protests and we exited the chaos of the outside. Then and only then did he put me down. I retreated a few steps, dagger pointed at him.
"Fool! Do you know who you point that dagger at?"
The voice alerted me to the presence of the other men in the room. Looking over my shoulder, I discovered about seven other prisoners and only one was female. On the brightside, none of them were armed to my knowledge. But therein laid the problem. I couldn’t tell if they had weapons. And even if they didn't, they had numbers on their side. I turned back to the man at the end of my dagger. They were my fellow prisoners and they could be distractions from the soldiers outside. I stepped forward, slicing through the man's bindings.
"No, I don't know who I point this dagger at. But perhaps he can enlighten me," I said, reaching for his gag.
I didn't bother to cut it. I just yanked it off.
"Jarl Ulfric of Windhelm," he said. "And you?"
"Syra," I replied.
He nodded his acknowledgement before turning to one of his men, the one, I noted who'd advised me against escape.
"Rolaf, do the men have their weapons?" he asked.
"Yes, my Jarl," Rolaf replied.
I was glad I hadn't attacked anyone, as they brandished swords and war axes. The female remained weaponless.
"What of her?"
Apparently, Ulfric noticed her as well.
"She's an archer, my Jarl. It was just hard to get the bow here but she has arrows."
I smirked just a bit. An archer with no bow. It was so sad I just couldn't help it.
"Leave it to me," I said.
They all turned to me. I just crossed my arms.
"Look, we run out, we snatch a bow and we get out of here. Easy enough," I remarked.
"Easy? How can you say it's easy?" the female archer demanded.
"Everything is easy compared to Oblivion. Let me go first and I guarantee, you'll have your bow."
I looked at Ulfric when I said this, because I figured his word would be law. He studied me a moment before nodding.  I stepped around him and then bolted from the tower, my eyes scanning for an archer. I wasn't disappointed. One stood, her back to me, firing arrows at the dragon overhead. I went directly at her, catching her shoulder and sliding the dagger across her throat. She let out a gurgled cry, dropping to the ground. With a grim smile, I bent, picking up her bow and glancing back at Ulfric and his troops. A few were staring at me in shock, as if they couldn't believe I'd done such a thing so easily. In response, I tossed the bow their way and then turned and began running. The fake priestess was gone, I noted, but I didn't have time to worry about that. Despite the chaos, I crept at a pretty slow pace, to avoid detection, taking out any  soldiers on my way. I even ran into some of Ulfric's boys but they met my dagger. Bottom line, no one was spared. I made it to Helgen's gate, stabbing my dagger into the gate, using it to pry the gate open. It was a lot stronger than I thought it would be but I managed to open it enough to slip out. As I ran down the very path that had delivered me to Helgen, I heard the dragon overhead but ignored the warning. I just needed to keep running.