17th of Last Seed, 4E 201
Ralof sighed in relief when we made it out of the cave. He sank to the ground behind a small boulder, chuckling to himself. "By the gods, we made it."
I started to say something back, but an earth-shaking roar cut me off. I dove towards the rock Ralof sat beside and hid as gusts of wind wafted over us. We watched in silent awe as the dragon flew away, keening in triumph. It flew through the clear sky, then disappeared over the peak of a mountain. Even out of sight, its roars still cleaved the air and shook the earth.
"It's gone for now," said Ralof as he stood back up. "Better get moving before it comes back." He wandered off the path and out of my view for a moment, then returned with a long walking stick. "This should help you, Raven." He extended his hand to me, hauling me to my feet.
I took the stick from him with a grateful smile. "Thank you, Ralof. My name is Ylva, by the way."
"Ylva, eh? Well, good to meet you properly. Come with me, and I'll take you to safety." He started off down the path leading towards the main road, going at a slow pace so I could keep up.
"Where are we going?"
"My sister's place in Riverwood. She owns the mill there."
"Riverwood?"
"Aye. When that leg of yours heals, you can walk to Whiterun if you wish. Or stay awhile. Gerdur won't mind."
We turned right when we reached the main road, walking away from the smell of death and destruction. The pine trees around us swayed in the wind, crickets chirped, and dartwings flitted this way and that. The peace I now witnessed seemed so off compared to the horror I had just seen.
"How's your leg?" asked Ralof after a long silence.
"I've suffered worse. What about you?"
He glanced at his arm, shrugging his good shoulder. "I'll heal. More than I can say for the others."
Was he referring to his fellow Stormcloaks, or that man he had tried to save, Hadvar? I found it strange that he would try to save an Imperial. "Ralof? Can I ask you something?"
"Sure."
"Why would you try to save Hadvar?"
His gaze fell to his feet. It was a long time before he finally answered me. "Hadvar and I come from the same village. We grew up together. His uncle is the smithy in Riverwood, right next to my sister's sawmill. When the war broke out, we fought about which side to join. To me, the choice was clear, but Hadvar had reservations about the Stormcloaks. I tried to persuade him to come with me, but he was stubborn and refused." He paused, heaving a long sigh. "We may have been enemies on the battlefield, but I had always hoped after this war ended, we could be friends again."
"I'm sorry."
"I would rather it be this way than have to face him on the battlefield. At least I never had to face him in that way." He looked up, eyebrow quirked at me. "Do you have any friends?"
I shook my head. "I've lived a hermit's life for six years. Not exactly conducive to making friends."
"Why were you crossing the border? Had enough of Skyrim?"
"It's not that. I love this place." I took a moment to survey the woods around us. "I didn't want to leave. But finding work has become hard, and I didn't know what else to do."
"You could always join the Stormcloaks. The pay may not be that good, but it's better than nothing."
"No, thanks. I'm not exactly the type to die for my land. I'm too much of a coward."
Ralof shook his head. "I somehow doubt that." Then he stopped. "Ah, would you look at that? We've found the Guardian Stones."
I stopped next to him, following his gaze to the three Standing Stones set into the hillside. Each had a carving on the front, depicting the constellations of the Warrior, Thief, and Mage. I limped into the middle of the Stones, looking at each one. "Aren't these things ancient?"
Ralof nodded. "They're imbibed with old magic. Do you know which you were born under?"
I shook my head, walking closer to the Warrior Stone. "Do I have to follow my birth sign?"
"Of course not. What matters is a Nord's heart, not her birth day."
I laid my hand on the Warrior Stone, feeling a surge through my system. The constellation carving lit up, and a beam of blue-white light shot into the heavens. I stepped back, feeling stronger and, somehow, braver. I turned to Ralof in disbelief. "What just happened?"
"You just received the Warrior's Blessing."
My brow crinkled in confusion. "How can touching a stone do that?"
He shrugged and chuckled. "Who knows? I'm no mage. It just works." He jerked his head, gesturing down the path. "Let's go, Riverwood isn't far."
I followed him once again, finding myself leaning on my crutch even more than earlier. Was my ankle hurting more, or was I just tiring?
Probably a combination of both.
We made it to Riverwood before the sun was high in the sky, which was a relief to Ralof. "We're probably ahead of the news," he explained as he led me towards a bridge just to the left of the gate into the town. "Which means we won't have to worry about any Imperial guards. Come on, my sister's this way."
We walked over the bridge and towards the sawmill just outside town. He led me around the back towards a blonde woman bent over a worktable. Her brow was bent in concentration, and her green work dress was stained with mud and sawdust.
"Gerdur!" called Ralof when we got within earshot of his sister.
She picked her head up as soon as she heard her name, the creases in her brow disappearing. Her clear blue eyes widened in surprise, and a smile twisted her full lips. She looked to be a few years older than Ralof, even though she was a head shorter and half his size. "Oh, brother! Mara's mercy, you're safe!" She walked straight to him and hugged him tightly. "I've prayed every night you would return safely." She pulled away, taking his wounded arm in her hands. "What's happened here?" Then, she looked at me, as if just realizing Ralof had not come alone. "And who's this?"
"This isn't something we should discuss openly, Gerdur. Raven here needs food and water, desperately."
I scowled at him, even though he was right. When the Imperials captured us two days ago, they had not offered us any food or drink the entire time we were in that wagon. I already had an empty stomach when I was arrested, having used the last of my food reserves three days prior to our capture. It was a miracle I was still standing, if I was being honest.
Gerdur nodded, then motioned towards the town. "Of course. Let's go." She led the way over another bridge spanning a small creek that connected to the White River. We went at a slow pace, drawing attention, but one look from Gerdur made anyone staring stop and go back to their business.
"Because she owns the mill, Gerdur is highly respected here," said Ralof. "She's the closest thing this town has to a leader."
"Not a responsibility I want, but it's one I have." Gerdur veered off the path, pointing to the largest house in the town. "Hurry inside, child. You look like you're about to collapse."
As if afraid her words were true, Ralof took hold of my elbow, supporting me as we went inside.
The home was warm and welcoming inside. There was a bed on the far side of the room to my right, a fireplace directly in front of me, and a large table covered with food on the left. It reminded me of the home I once had in Eastmarch, but I refused to dwell on that for too long. I did not need to be reminded of that day while I was in the company of strangers.
Ralof helped me sit down in a chair in front of the fire, then Gerdur made him sit in the other chair next to mine. Ralof complied without question, making me smile just a little.
"You both look like you've been through Oblivion," said Gerdur as she handed us bowls of still-warm stew. "What happened?"
Ralof looked at me, brow furrowed, and I shook my head. I did not want to relive that horror. I could not talk about it yet.
Quietly, somberly, Ralof recounted what happened in Helgen, telling his sister of our capture, near-execution, and escape from the clutches of death. He said everyone was either dead or missing, and he had no idea just how many of his fellow soldiers made it out alive. I sat in silence, forcing the stew down and wishing I had an appetite.
When he finished, Ralof set aside his empty bowl and stood. "I won't be able to stay long. I will have to return to Windhelm and rejoin the fight."
"Brother, your arm." Gerdur stopped him from going anywhere. "You should stay in here. If any Imperials escaped, they'll be looking for you. You and your friend both need to lay low for a few days." Then she looked at me. "We don't have a healer in this town, but the general goods store sells potions. I'll make a run there later for you and Ralof. Until then...." She gestured to the bed against the wall. "My son can sleep on the floor. You should take the bed."
"That's awfully kind of you." I got to my feet, wincing as my ankle throbbed. "Thank you for all your help."
"Of course. A friend of Ralof's is a friend of mine. Stay as long as you need, but when you leave, I have a favor to ask."
I nodded. "Anything."
"If what you and my brother say is true, then there is a dragon on the loose. Riverwood has no protection. When you leave, will you go to Whiterun and tell the Jarl of our plight?"
Again, I nodded. "It's the least I can do to repay you."
Gerdur smiled. "In the meantime," She held onto my elbow and guided me towards the bed, "you need to lie down."
I wanted to yank away and tell her I was fine, but she was right. I was getting dizzier the longer I stood, and if she had not intervened, I may have collapsed. I hated being at someone else's mercy; I hated being weak in front of others, really, but I knew the weakness was only temporary. It would not last. This was just another obstacle to overcome. I would survive. In a few days, I would tell the Jarl about the dragon, then be on my merry way. Back to selling my skills to anyone who needed my help. Back to my normal life.
Or so I had thought.