When Celina said she wanted action, that was not what she meant.
The dark elf hybrid squeezed her eyes shut as the axe came down with a savage smack, slicing the Stormcloak soldier's head clean off his shoulders. She opened one gleaming crimson eye just a crack to peek at the carnage, and had to suppress a wave of bile rising in her throat. She had a snever wanted to actually see the inside of someone's neck. She shuddered, a movement that had nothing to do with the chill wind biting at her through the thin prisoner's rags she wore, and everything to do with the decapitated corpse staining the cobblestone street vermillion.
Rising up around the town square were long one story houses made of logs and stone. A large keep could be seen behind the houses, separated from the main part of the town by a thick stone wall. Two circular watchtowers stood guard over the gates that surrounded the city and the center of the town, where four wagon-fulls of rebel soldiers and other criminals stood in line for the chopping block.
Personally, Celina didn't think she needed to be there. She was hardly a wanted criminal, and she certainly wasn't a rebel Stormcloak. And yet, these imperial soldiers felt the need to chop off her head over the simple matter of a stolen trinket.
Okay, so it was a very expensive magical trinket. So what? Had these soldiers never heard of jail time?
Celina's crimson gaze was dragged harshly to her left as movement flickered in her periphery. A tall Nord man stood off to one side of the group, surrounded by Imperial guards with a rough cloth gag tied over his mouth. His fur cape was made of bearskin, and his attire simply screamed royalty. His blonde hair and fair skin fit right into the Nord stereotype.
This man was Ulfric Stormcloak. The leader of the rebellion, and the reason Celina was trapped here. She cast a sidelong glance at the rebel soldiers gathered on either side of her. The group was predominantly made of male Nords with bulky muscles, stringy blonde hair, and bushy beards, although Celina picked out a couple oddballs like herself in the line.
A slim Khajiit with dark grey fur and merchant's clothes stood off to the left, three people away from the scrawny elf hybrid. His teeth were bared and his ears pinned against his head as he stared in horror at the headless soldier on the block. Celina could vaguely see him shaking. The poor cat was probably there for the same reason as her: petty thievery.
Next to the Khajiit stood a massive orc with a partially shaved head and enormous tusks. Her shoulders were broader than even the strongest Nord warrior in the line, and her neck looked like it was the width of Celina's waist. She glowered at the Imperials as they walked by, and they kept every single eye and blade trained on the orc, no matter what happened. It must have taken several men to take her into custody, as her armor, size and intimidating demeanor simply screamed berserker. Her weapons were taken away, but it didn't look like that would stop her from tearing her enemies apart with her bare hands. Her hands were bound with chains rather than ropes like the rest of the prisoners.
Wedged between Celina and a female Stormcloak officer was a tall, muscular Altmer in blue mage's robes. He stared straight ahead with steely resignation and a hardened expression. Dark brown hair framed his tanned golden face and tumbled down to brush his shoulders. His sharp features were set in an unwavering scowl, his green eyes hard and cold. Celina shuddered and inched away from him.
In her haste to move away from the intimidating high elf, Celina bumped into a long-limbed Nord warrior on her left. He started and caught himself before he overbalanced and started a domino effect within the lines of prisoners. A questioning look was sent Celina's way, and the hybrid elf shrugged in reply.
Celina herself was short and willowy, with long limbs and slight curves. Her crimson eyes shone out from underneath a long curtain of dark crimson hair that cascaded down her shoulders to her mid-back. It was riddled with braids tipped by small clay beads that Celina had scavenged off of a broken necklace that had belonged to her mother before she died. Her skin was not quite the same tone as the skin of most dark elves, instead being more of a pale peach color, courtesy of her bosmer father. A small scar ran from her nose to her lip. She had gotten it when she still lived in Ivarstead, from when she was holding a knife in her teeth and her adopted brother bumped into her.
"Next!" The Imperial captain called in a harsh voice. Perhaps she was prepared for one of the prisoners to step forward, ready and waiting with a snarky remark on their lips like the dead rebel on the block, because she looked a little put out when she had to call the next unlucky prisoner up to the block.
"You! The odd little Wood Elf! Come here."
Celina's heart stopped for a moment before resuming its beating at a frantic pace. It pounded against her ribs in a desperate attempt to keep itself going.
Forget the chopping block, the young woman thought, just let me stand here. My heart will give out in a just few moments.
Her hands started shaking in their binds, and the blood drained from her face, making Celina look like a starved vampire. The young Nord next to her gave her a sympathetic look as Celina froze in place, rooted to the spot out of pure terror.
A screeching roar rent the air around the prisoners, making the hair on the back of Celina's neck stand on end. Her crimson eyes shot upwards, searching the morning sky for any trace of what could have made the foul noise. The only anomaly she saw in the vast expanse of blue was a cloud shaped uncannily like a mudcrab.
Startled mutterings erupted and tore through the ranks of prisoners, and even the Imperial guards. An exceptionally loud, raspy voice dragged Celina's attention from the clouds and down to the cruel world below when the Khajiit stepped forward and hissed in fear. "What was that?!" His tail lashed angrily and he sent a challenging look at the Imperial soldiers that shoved him back into line with their metal shields.
"It was nothing." The Imperial captain insisted, waving a hand in the general direction of the distant mountains, where the sound had come from. "I said, next prisoner." She ordered. A subordinate saluted and turned to Celina.
"As you wish, captain. To the block, elf. Nice and easy." He said. This man was the one who had seemed so merciful, who had questioned Celina when the town guards had dragged her out of the prisons and shoved her into the line of rebels and other criminals. It had seemed like he would be willing to let her off easy, and with her head still attached, with a few more days in jail. But apparently, the Imperial Captain wasn't messing around, and had ordered Celina's execution anyway.
Damn. Celina pressed her lips together and bit her tongue to keep from choking on her own fear. Too much to hope that they would forget about me, I guess. She tried to take a step, but her legs were shaking so badly that she couldn't move for fear of falling flat on her face.
An Imperial solder marched up behind her and shoved Celina forwards towards the block, his rough hands pushing her forwards so hard that she stumbled and fell to her knees with a small shriek, scraping her knees and elbows on the cobblestone street. The soldier growled and picked her up by the scruff of the neck, grasping her ragged tunic and dropping Celina in a messy heap in front of the headsman.
"Get on there, unless you want the headsman's axe to be wetted on the street." The Imperial captain hissed, glancing quickly at the General presiding over the execution, General Tulius.
What difference does it make whether they kill me here or on the block? Celina dragged herself over to the block, using her scraped elbows and knees to crawl over the last few inches it took to get herself over to the bloodstained piece of wood. She knelt next to the oh-so-still body of the last person to kneel in her place.
Despite the raw terror coursing through Celina's veins, she managed to lift her chin high and say in a voice that quivered only slightly, "What a strange world we all live in, where the guards in a town are perfectly happy to behead a woman for taking someone's bracelet." Celina wasn't exactly sure what she expected to happen, but a kick to the gut with a metal-toed boot wasn't it.
The breath was knocked out of her as the Captain sent a swift kick Celina's way with her Imperial officer's boots. The woman's foot connected with the elf's rib cage and sent her sprawling across the ground, completely breathless. Celina landed hard on her right shoulder, gasping and trying to inflate her empty lungs. Her cheekbone scraped against the cobblestones, and Celina felt wetness creeping across her face as the cut began to bleed.
"You insolent piece of filth!" The Imperial officer screeched. Celina heard the orc guffawing off to the side, while the Khajiit merchant hissed angrily.
The captain drew her steel knife from its sheath at her belt, advancing on Celina as she lay gasping on the street. "I'll kill you myself!" She stormed over to Celina and grabbed a fistful of the elf's auburn hair. The Imperial lifted Celina up by her hair, sending spikes of pain through her scalp, and Celina found a steel dagger held against her throat. The woman bent down and whispered menacingly in Celina's ear, "You are nothing. What in Oblivion did you think you could do? Make someone think otherwise? Ha!" The knife pressed harder into Celina's throat, and she started to struggle to get breaths in and out of her chest.
She managed to bare her teeth in a defiant smile though, and choke out a few choice words at the woman. "Go ahead. Do it, n'wah-" another loud roar cut Celina off abruptly, and she heard shouting and the screech of metal as swords were drawn and arrows nocked in bows, ready to fire at the source of the sound. The captain dropped Celina face first into the cobblestone and her steel dagger onto the ground, instead unsheathing her imperial sword and turning to shout orders at her troops over the sudden raucous noises that broke out among every guard, prisoner, and citizen of the town. A great shudder ran through the earth along with a massive boom, and the stones on the tower groaned, as if an enormous weight was suddenly slammed onto the top.
Celina rolled over just in time to see a massive black monster send a ball of fire down to the people below. It was huge; its size was almost too big to process. Celina could compare it to a large keep for size, but that wouldn't be doing the beast justice. It was completely black, like a starless night under a dense cover of storm clouds. Red eyes glimmered angrily from beneath spiked eyelids and rows of sharp black horns on its brows. Two curved horns grew from behind its head, black and terrifying. The entire dragon- for that's what Celina assumed it was- seemed to be covered in spines of varying length and width, all ending in sharpened points that could impale a man wearing steel armor without any effort whatsoever. Its teeth glimmered from underneath curled black lips and red gums, each the size of a sword, or maybe longer. The dragon's wings were immense, almost three times the size of its body- minus the tail, which was long and ended in a spearhead-like point. The wing membranes were as black as the monster's obsidian scales, and each wing finger was tipped in a long, curved ebony claw.
It was horrific.
Celina stared in terrified wonder at the beast as it roared, and the skies opened up and rained fire down upon the village. Her daze was broken by a strong arm wrapping around her torso and lifting her off the ground as if she were a sack of flour. She was abruptly put on her feet, and kept from swaying thanks to the arm still wrapped around her middle. Celina looked upwards to see the lanky young Nord man she had been next to in line supporting her as she struggled to find her footing.
"Come on, now." He said, looking to the fiery sky for a moment before starting to move forward towards an open door in a guard tower that was being held open by several of the Stormcloaks. Celina managed to regain her footing, and the two of them jogged over to the other prisoners inside the tower.
As soon as they got inside, a wooden beam was locked into place over the door and the Nord warrior left Celina leaning against the doorway as he joined Jarl Ulfric, who's hands had been unbound and his gag removed. When he spoke, the man's voice was deep and gravelly, as if he spoke loudly all the time. If the legends about him were true, that didn't surprise Celina at all.
The young hybrid elf finally caught her breath and looked around the circular tower, clutching her side where she had been kicked. The Stormcloaks were all gathered in a group off to one side, helping the two warriors that had been wounded during their flight from the dragon and cutting off the bonds around each other's wrists. Celina's rescuer stood next to a bulky blonde Nord and Ulfric Stormcloak, conversing quietly at the door. The orc berserker, khajiit merchant, and altmer mage had already freed themselves of their bonds and were standing away from everyone else, each their own isolated island of solitude. Celina flinched as the orc approached and slapped Celina on the shoulder- the less beaten up one, thank Azura.
"That was either the stupidest or the spunkiest thing I've ever seen anybody do, little fighter!" She guffawed. Her voice sounded like she gargled with sharp rocks every morning as she ate a breakfast of gravel.
"Uh, thank you, I think." Celina wheezed, using the wall for support.
"Oh, it's a compliment, little one." The berserker insisted, smiling despite the massive tusks protruding from her bottom lip. "That took guts."
"Can we talk about how brave our friend is elsewhere?" One of the soldiers asked, glancing back and forth between the doorway and the staircase that spiraled upwards through the tower. Another massive roar shook the stonework and dust rained down from the ceiling.
"Yes, we need to get out of here, now!" Ulfric agreed, urgency coloring his accented voice.
Ulfric's companion, the muscular blonde Nord with a full beard, shouted for all of the gathered prisoners to head up through the tower and to the top landing. All the soldiers and prisoners scurried off, surrounding Ulfric in the middle of the pack of rebels while the other prisoners trailed behind. The two Stormcloak soldiers that had been injured were slung across their comrades' backs and carried carefully up the stairs. Celina's rescuer approached holding the Imperial officer's steel dagger, and with a deft flick of his wrist, he sliced off the binds holding her hands together.
As the leather straps fell away, Celina thanked him, and rubbed her sore wrists. He offered her the steel dagger, which Celina took gratefully, and spoke to her for he first time.
"How badly are your ribs hurt?" He asked, looking at her with concern. Now that she got a good look at him, Celina saw that the Nord's eyes were dark blue, like the deep waters of the ocean. He had a strong jawline, but it wasn't extremely wide. A thin scar ran from his hairline down to his opposite brow, starting on the left side of his head and going diagonally to the right in a jagged line. He had wavy brown hair that was cut shorter than most Nords would shear their hair. His eyes were wide, questioning and worried. Celina dragged her gaze away from the blue and looked down at the stone floor.
"They're bruised, but I'll be fine. Let's get out of here before the tower collapses on itself." Celina muttered, still clutching her ribcage. The Nord nodded and started up the stairs behind the others with Celina in tow.
They jogged up the stairs in time to the sound of roars and screeches from outside, along with the shouting of injured and dying soldiers and the crackling of flames. As they neared the top of the stairs, another massive boom shook the tower. The staircase shook, and Celina staggered backwards, managing to catch herself and keep from falling by grabbing onto a protruding brick in the tower wall.
With a thunderous crash, the black dragon's head plunged through the wall, leaving a massive hole in the side of the tower. Its jaws opened wide and sprayed fire from its gaping maw, driving the whole group back down the stairs to escape the raging inferno. The dragon finally retracted its massive head and flew away, leaving the ragtag group of soldiers and prisoners in the structurally failing tower.
They rushed up the stairs as soon as the fires died down, jumping over the two charred bodies of a pair of Stormcloaks that hadn't managed to get out of the way in time to avoid the fiery blast. The way up to the top of the tower was blocked by fallen debris from the dragon's intrusion, but fortunately for the escapees, there was a halfway crumbled inn next to the tower, accessible by jumping down from the opening in the wall.
"My men and I have to stay here and help our injured brothers to safety, but the rest of you have to jump!" Ulfric called, yelling gruffly over the chaos below.
"Are you crazy!?" The Khajiit replied, his grey ears pinned against his head. Celina had to agree with him on this one, that building was already partially collapsed, structurally unsound, and the area directly underneath the tower opening was engulfed in flames. If they didn't judge their jump just right, the prisoners would fall either all the way down to the ground, or into the fire.
"You can stay in here if you like, fur-face," the orc berserker shouted hoarsely, "but I'm not escaping the chopping block just to get smashed by a falling tower!" With that, she took a running start and launched herself out of the hole in the tower wall, and landed heavily on the top floor of the inn. The orc rolled to soften the impact of landing, and when she stood, she was baring her enormous canine teeth in a grin.
The khajiit and altmer prisoners, seemingly comforted by the fact that the orc made it across the treacherous gap, took running leaps and jumped across to the relative safety of the broken down inn. Celina looked out over the steep drop to certain death and reeled back with her hand pressed to her mouth to prevent a wave of bile from surfacing.
She hated heights.
But as a roar echoed around the already chaotic and partially destroyed town, Celina decided that she hated that dragon more. She took a running leap.
Celina landed with a sharp thud on the creaking wooden floor of the inn, rolling to a stop in a messy heap to one side of the room. Her elbow hit the crumbling wall, sending a sharp stab of pain through her before a feeling of numbness spread up her arm.
"Nicely done!" The orc cheered, "although the landing could use some work." Celina straightened and ran her fingers through her messy red hair to get it out of her face, and rubbed her elbow grudgingly. She started when a loud thud sounded next to her. She whipped her head around, almost giving herself whiplash, and saw the brown haired Nord next to her recovering from his jump and straightening his dark leather armor. The corners of his mouth twitched upwards, and he offered Celina a hand with a minuscule smirk on his face.
"Need a hand?"
"I can stand up just fine on my own, thank you very much." Celina snapped back, using the wall to pull herself up onto shaking legs. She stood up straight and crossed her arms after regaining her balance. The Nord was holding back a smirk, and Celina could tell it was taking great effort.
He opened his mouth to speak, but Celina held up a hand to stop him. "I said I could get up. I never said I would do it gracefully. Now let's go." She stormed off to one side of the inn, her face flushing in embarrassment. Celina had never been all that graceful, which was why she wasn't exactly a master thief. She'd been caught several times during missions for the guild, until Vipir the Fleet decided that he was sick of bailing her out of jails every other mission and gave her lessons in sneaking.
Celina maneuvered her way down a set of crumbling stairs on one side of the inn, dodging the charred and splintered parts. She joined the orc berserker, khajiit merchant, and altmer mage downstairs, with the Nord warrior following behind her. As they entered, the orc raised an eyebrow at the Nord behind Celina, giving him a thoroughly frightening but also questioning look.
"Shouldn't you be with your comrades, Stormcloak?" She rasped, her gravelly voice even huskier because of the smoke in the air.
"I'm not one of them." He replied simply, his voice strained and his jaw set. The orc let it drop for now. She quickly gestured the pair over to where the others stood, peering through gaps in the wall to see the outside.
"Look here," she began. "Some Imperial soldiers. We should go bash their-"
"Or," Celina put her hand up to interrupt that thought, "we could always go around them and avoid any unnecessary bloodshed. Besides, they're more than likely going to get killed by the dragon, and so will we if we don't get moving." She snapped as the walls and ceiling gave a mighty rumble. The ragtag group hustled out of the collapsing building and into the chaos of the destroyed village.
In front of them was a lone Imperial soldier, the one that had checked all of the prisoners off of the list no less, a young boy, and an old warrior who had donned his old armor once again. The Imperial turned to face them, his face set in a concerned frown. Celina gripped her 'borrowed' dagger tighter and the berserker bared her fists to Celina's right. On her left, a flicker of flame danced around the altmer mage's slim fingers.
The Imperial soldier narrowed his eyes at the motley group of escaped prisoners, but didn't attack. Suddenly, the massive dragon descended, shaking the earth as it landed mere yards away from them.
An unknown voice shouted, "look out!" As the beast landed, and Celina looked to see that it was the altmer mage that had spoken. His voice was strong and clear, and accented in a similar way to many of the other high elves that Celina had met.
"By the Gods, get back!" The Imperial ordered. Celina and the others obeyed, rushing behind a large stone as the dragon sprayed fire in their direction, sending a wave of heat crashing over them, before flying off and continuing its reign of destruction.
There was a tense silence between the Imperial soldier and the prisoners, but eventually, the lanky Nord strode up to the soldier, smiled brightly, clapped the man on the shoulder, and said far too loudly, "good day to you, sir!" Before sprinting off in the opposite direction. The Imperial looked at the remaining prisoners incredulously, but Celina jut shrugged and jogged off in the same direction, following the Nord that had saved her. The clank of armor and padding of feet on the cobblestones behind her let Celina know that the other prisoners had followed.
As the hybrid elf rounded the corner of a building in a back alley, she nearly smacked right into her rescuer as he sprinted around the bend in the opposite direction. Instead of colliding, the pair did a funny sort of pirouette and faced each other in the alleyway, panting and sweaty.
"The way's blocked over there. We'd better try going around these houses." He suggested.
Celina raised an eyebrow at the brown haired man. "What in the name of Nirn was that about?"
He smiled and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, "I panicked."
The others joined them in the alley before they proceeded to weave in between houses and dodge fireballs and Imperial soldiers clumped together and trying to fight the dragon's unceasing onslaught. Eventually, they made it to a small side street across the main road from the gate that lead out of Helgen. The khajiit turned to the rest of the group, grimacing apologetically at them as he said, "we will have to cross the open road to get to the gate. But after that, I know that there is a cave nearby that we can take shelter in until the dragon leaves."
"Are you sure, cat?" The orc questioned, and the khajiit nodded assertively.
"I visited this town several times with my caravan. We often camped in that cave so we didn't have to set up our tents. There might be a skeever or two in there now, but that's all."
"That's perfect. Let's go." The Nord reassured, giving Celina a gentle push forward to get her to move. She took a deep breath, then sprinted across the street, followed closely by the khajiit, orc, Nord, and finally the high elf. They reached the gate and scrambled through, choking on the smoke and ash that billowed around them from the burning buildings. They made it through the splintered wooden gate and fled from the destruction, the sounds of distant roars and the cracking of flames echoing in their ears.
They ran for what seemed like miles-though the distance was rather short, their throats stinging and lungs burning from all the smoke, but they eventually reached a small opening in the side of a stony mountainside. The khajiit stopped just outside, panting with his hands on his knees for support. Everyone was exhausted, panting and gasping for breath and trying to get air into their lungs.
The khajiit merchant gestured to the crevice and panted, "this is it. We can rest here until we're sure that the dragon has left." The others nodded and trudged into the cave entrance, squeezing through single file and collapsing against the walls.
Celina sagged against the wall and sat for a while, just breathing and enjoying her newfound sense of freedom. The others plopped down on either side of her, and even the stoic altmer visibly relaxed.
"Alright, I do believe that some introductions are in order." The Nord said, giving a tired grin. Everyone else nodded in quiet agreement.
"I'm Mzada." The orc began. "I come from the stronghold Largashbur, near Riften."
Next, the khajiit spoke up, placing a clawed hand on his chest and nodding in greeting. "I am called Akmor'ro by my people, but most others call me Morrow."
Then came the high elf in his strong voice, "My name is Nurrior, I am an apprentice mage from the college of Winterhold."
Celina spoke up next, pushing her tangled red hair out of her face to reveal her striking crimson eyes. "I am Celina, daughter of Andretha and Zendrys. Pleasure to meet you all."
"I'm Reeve." The Nord said simply, holding out his right hand to Celina to shake with a crooked grin. "Pleasure to meet you all."
Celina chuckled slightly, but wrung Reeve's hand anyway. "Nice to meet you, Reeve."
They sat for a while in comfortable silence, just catching their breaths and coming to terms with the fact that they had almost been killed by a monstrous dragon mere minutes ago. They were all quite content to sit in silence together, as there are some situations where one can't get through it without developing some inkling of comeradery between the other people involved. Escaping a dragon attack is certainly one of those situations. After a long while, Akmor'ro stood and peeked out of the opening of the cave, then gestured for the others to follow him out.
"Come, everyone. I believe the dragon is gone for good now." He squeezed out of the opening, and the others followed. During the hours they had all spent in the cave, night had fallen, and the moons of Nirn were bright overhead, illuminating the landscape in a soft silver glow. The sky was clear and the air fresh, and Celina felt like she could finally breathe after the moist, musky smell of the cave.
She inhaled deeply, standing straighter and taller, although she was the shortest member of the group. "It's a lovely night, isn't it?" It truly was, the sharp tang of smoke from the burning town had faded, although there was still traces of it: whispers of the scent on the wind when it swept past their cheeks, and the distant crackle of smoldering wood could be heard when the forest was absolutely still.
"Yes, a very nice night." Reeve agreed. "We don't get this kind of weather in Markarth. It's usually much more humid."
Celina turned towards him with a questioning look. "You live in Markarth?"
"I used to. I've been roaming around Skyrim for a while now."
Celina nodded and turned back to the woods, which were silent and dark in the night. The only sound to disrupt the quiet was the sound of wingbeats on the air.
Wingbeats.
With a tremendous crash, the immense black dragon landed behind the group, shaking the trees and knocking boulders off the mountainside.
"Tuul kraad nil vahl lok!" The dragon roared, his voice forming strange words in the dragon language. "My thuum will burn you like I did that pitiful excuse for a town!" The dragon threw his head back and bugled to the sky, shaking the clouds and the sky itself.
With one swift movement, the dragon's massive head snapped forward, his jaws wide and searching. Foot long fangs protruding from blood red gums whizzed through the air and closed with a momentous snap. It happened so fast, Celina might not have known what had happened if not for the sudden spatter of dark red liquid across her face.
The dragon recoiled, and Reeve collapsed. A great throaty chuckle rose in the beast's throat, and he spread his gargantuan wings, before disappearing into the sky with another booming shout.
"Ruzah wundunne, Dovahkiin. Goodbye."
Next to Celina, Reeve gave one last hacking cough before growing still, his chest coated in blackish red blood that flowed from the holes in his chest left by the dragon's teeth.
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