I felt him arrive.

 

Not in Helgen. Well, okay, I felt him arrive in Helgen as well. Hell, everyone felt that. I felt him arrive before that.

 

I didn’t know that’s what I was feeling, of course. I was sitting at a table in the inn’s common room enjoying a nice breakfast with my favorite Skyrim meal – eggs, grilled bread, and steak (there are no pigs in Skyrim, so no bacon, much to my everlasting sorrow), washed down with a mug of milk. It was the closest thing Skyrim had to Earth food; I ate it at every opportunity, and had been doing so with gusto that Sundas morning when something…

 

Okay, it is time for another terrible attempt at a description of a feeling I cannot describe. It was like getting punched in the face (and everywhere else on your body, come to think of it), except from three-hundred miles away. And you don’t really get punched. There was no pain, just a sudden impact that came out of nowhere. I could do nothing for a solid thirty seconds but clutch the table and breathe in harsh gasps. All sound faded away, all senses dulled – it was just me and my breath and the solid feel of the table that felt like the only link to life.

 

When I finally snapped out of it, I had lost my appetite. Everything seemed far too loud, too…alive. I retreated to our room and sat on the bed and tried to figure out what had happened. A heart attack? That seemed unlikely, as did a stroke, but I couldn’t imagine what else it might be (of course, to jump ahead just a tiny bit, I learned what it was soon after. For the record, if this all repeats again somehow, Alduin returns to Skyrim around 7am-ish (no clocks, but that's my best estimate) on Sundas, 17 Last Seed, 201).

 

My breath caught again when I heard a voice. A child’s voice from outside the room (the walls of Skyrim’s inns are made of stout lumber but are not particularly soundproof).

 

“Dad?”

 

A man’s voice responded, “What is it, little cub?”

 

“There’s a whole army of Imperial soldiers outside! Can we go outside? You just have to see this!”

 

I felt my heart turn cold as visions of soldiers gathered, prisoners and a chopping block.

 

“All right. But don’t you go and bother the General.”

 

The child’s voice rose in excitement even as it grew farther away, accompanied by eager footsteps. “Come on! Hurry up, Dad!”

 

“You might want to join us, Matlara. This is probably something important.”

 

“Right behind you.” This, from the innkeeper – I recognized her voice.

 

I sat on the bed, dread weighing my every breath. It was happening. It had to be. I didn’t want to leave, to see – if I didn’t go out there, didn’t see everything set up the way I remembered, I could imagine this was something else. There was a war on, after all – soldiers showing up was nothing unique. Kellan and I…

 

Kellan! The thought of him brought me to my feet in an instant. I was out of the room and halfway to the inn door before I realized I had moved. I had to find him, to get him to leave. And shit, all our stuff was still in the room!

 

I hesitated, but decided getting to Kellan was more important than taking the time to pack everything up. I resumed my path to the door; by the time I reached it, I was at a full run.

 

I yanked it open, prepared for death and destruction, but all I found were people standing and watching and blocking my view. I eased through the crowd until I could see what interested them, and the sight made my stomach drop.

 

The colorful pavilions that had been set up in the residential district for an upcoming holiday had been taken down and stacked to the side. In their place, two soldiers dropped a very familiar block of heavy wood and metal.

 

I cringed, not just because they were clearly setting the scene I had feared, but because I had a second flashback of my own head laying on just such a device. The way the air had stood still; the flash of my meaningless life; the headsman and his axe, and the rushing of air as it descended.

 

I rubbed my neck with absent fingers, then jumped when a voice spoke from behind me.

 

“Ah, you’re here! Feeling better?”

 

I turned and nearly broke out in tears when I saw Kellan. Then I decided, fuck it, and did break out in tears. Without thought, I threw my arms around him and unexpected sobs ripped from me.

 

“What? What’s wrong?”

 

His arms wrapped around me, the most comforting thing I had ever felt, and I just wanted to melt into them and cling to him forever.

 

But there was no time for that.

 

“No!” I sniffed and pushed away as panic began to replace all other feelings. “It’s happening! This is it!”

 

“What? What are you talking about?”

 

“This!” I waved a wild hand around, then apologized to the people I accidentally slapped. “This is how it started!”

 

“I don’t…”

 

“Alduin!” I hissed the name, then glanced up, fearful that just saying the name would produce the monster. “The dragon! This is the day…the moment he shows up! We need to get out of here!”

 

“That again? Look, there is no dragon, this is just the Imperial army. Well, part of it. They…look, they have prisoners. They’re going to exe…wait, is that ULFRIC STORMCLOAK?!”

 

We had been talking in semi-whispers – not that anyone around us was paying us any attention – but his voice rose in a shout on the name of the Stormcloak leader and it turned the air of excitement into an instant frenzy. I gave a desperate glance around as two carts rounded the corner and stopped side by side by the wall that separated the residential and miliary districts. The crowd began to murmur and then shout out.

 

“It is!”

 

“Ulfric!”

 

“Traitor!”

 

“They got him!”

 

Closer, quieter, the child’s wondering voice, “Who are they, daddy? Where are they going?”

 

“You need to go inside, little cub.”

 

“Why? I want to watch the soldiers!”

 

“Inside. Now!”

 

“Okay.”

 

The boy’s disconsolate walk (and peeks back over his shoulder) to the door of the inn shook me back to myself.

 

“Forget him,” I told Kellan as I shook his arm. “We need to go! Now!”

 

He frowned down at me. “That is Ulfric Stormcloak, the leader of the rebellion. They are about to execute him and end this bloody war. I am not missing this.”

 

“Please!” I tried yanking on his arm as the prisoners began clambering from the wagons, but it was like iron.

 

“This won’t take long. We can leave right after.”

 

“You don’t understand, it happens…”

 

For the first time, he turned his full attention to me with a look of anger in his eyes. “Look, woman,” he snapped in a low but fierce voice, “I have been more than patient with you, I have put my life on the line for you more than once, I have followed you even though you wouldn’t listen to sense. I am going to stay here and watch history get made. You go do…whatever it is you are going to do. I am done with you and your lunatic ravings!”

 

It hurt. I cringed back from his rant and looked for any signs that he didn’t mean it, that he wasn’t so mad at me that he really wanted to part ways, but he just resumed his watch as the last of the prisoners disembarked.

 

It took a few heartbeats for me to be able to gulp away my tears and speak; even then, I could only manage a whisper – anything more would have turned to instant sobs.

 

“I…I know you don’t mean that. When…if…when you are able, I’ll be outside the western gate, just around the corner. I…hope you make it.”

 

And then, as one of the prisoners made a desperate attempt to flee, I turned around and did the same.

 

It took only a few moments to gather my things. I hesitated but decided against trying to gather Kellan’s armor or weapons – I needed to move fast, and armor would bog me down. Plus, with my luck, a guard would accost me for having it.

 

With my stuff gathered in my pack, I went back into the inn’s main room, hoping to see the child so I could try to talk him into coming with me, but the room was silent.

 

Well, silent for a moment. Then there was a huge BOOM and people began screaming outside and I fucking ran.

 

I went through the kitchen, grabbing a knife as I went, out the kitchen door, around the back of the inn, and out the western gate that, fortunately, stood open and empty of guards. I did not look back until I reached the spot where the road curved a little north and a little downward, then collapsed on the ground and turned my head.

 

The city was on fire, of course. Places made pretty much entirely of wood will do that when an enraged (I just assumed Alduin was enraged all the time, like Bruce Banner) dragon decides he doesn’t like the look of it. I couldn’t hear much except his roar as he rose then dipped, over and over, fire spewing from his mouth.

 

I don’t know how long I sat there. It felt like hours, but the sun still had not touched its zenith by the time the dragon decided it had managed enough wanton destruction for one day and flew off to the northeast. I gave him another amount of time I judged to be thirty-ish minutes then made my way back to what was left of the town.

 

I felt little hope as I approached the gates, and that little hope withered and died as I broached them. All I saw before me was death and destruction, and I felt my strength leave me. I collapsed to my knees and, aided in part by the acrid stinging air, wept until I could weep no more.

 

Don't feed the bastards. Feed yourself instead.

 

 

 

 

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