I was jarred back into reality by my face meeting the dirt floor of my prison tent. With a groan, I was hoisted to my feet by strong arms, and dragged up to Aiden's house on the hill. Eventually, I was seated on the rough ground in front of Aiden, as he toyed with his omnipresent dagger. "Have you come to a decision Armel? Will you join me? Or will you throw your life away?" His voice danced in my mind. I could feel my strength starting to flow back, but I needed more time. I needed a chance.
"Let me die in my armor, Altmer."
"That can be arranged." he said, an almost sad note teasing me in his voice. He flicked his wrist, and I was once again hoist to my feet, and dragged into his shack, where my armor was kept. I hid a smile as they dragged me into it.
"Any last words?" Aiden asked, his palm freezing around the edges. My hopes for escape were fading as fast. I felt my fingertips heat up, but it was not nearly enough to burn my bonds. I felt my heartbeat slow. This is the end.
"Just get it over with, scum," I growled. He smirked, and I closed my eyes, reciting a prayer to Arkay in my mind, only to be interrupted by a whisper in the wind. I looked up at Aiden, confused, as he clutched his shoulder, which had sprouted feathers. Arrow feathers, I realized, as his robes began to darken with the red of blood. Aiden roared in pain, and stumbled out of my vision. Chaos erupted. Someone yelled that the Legion was attacking, and I felt the hands holding me down disappear. It was now or never. I burned my bonds off, using a large portion of the magicka I had, hopefully I wouldn't need anymore, and ran for Aiden's shack. I wanted my staff back, and some revenge.
I heard Aiden cursing and rummaging around as I entered the shack. I grabbed my staff, and peeked into the back room, spying Aiden's hunched shadow. With a crack, Aiden snapped the arrow shaft, and pulled it through him, hissing as it exited. His hand glowed with a soft golden light as he started to knit together the flesh. I took the blunt end of my staff and smacked him in the elbow, making him to release the spell in pain and look at me, rage filling his eyes. "Miss me?" I taunted, before he launched a shard of ice at my head, which I narrowly dodged. "I see you just did," I snapped out, my staff rushing towards him.
Aiden nimbly dodged, before he hurdled a blast of frost at me, chilling me to the bone. Suddenly he was on me, dagger in hand, bloodlust in his eyes. I shoved him away, earning a gash on my forearm for my troubles, and another face full of magical frost, ice starting to cling to my skin.
I stumbled back into the main room of the dilapidated building, Aiden hot on my heels. I winced as pain lit up my side, his dagger managing to plunge through my armor. I couldn't keep this up much longer, not without magic. Aiden crashed into another wall, and the shadows on the walls swayed. Wait, swayed? My mind almost froze, then I glanced up to see a lantern hanging from the rafters. I knocked the wind from Aiden, before bringing what little magicka I had left into a charge of lightning in my palm.
"Die," I growled out, and snapped the thin rope holding the lantern with a bolt of lightning, my meager amount of magicka flowing out with it. I jumped from the shack, landing roughly in the dirt, as the lantern fell and shattered, as Aiden started to scream. As the flames caught, and the dry wood starting to eagerly burn, Aiden's screaming petered out.
"Armel!?! what are you doing here!" I heard a familiar voice cry incredulously. I rolled over to see Hadvar jogging up, sword bloody and shield dented.
"Hadvar! So good that you could join me!" I coughed out. Hadvar smiled, before getting an apologetic look on his face.
"I am sorry about this Armel, but we have been ordered to take any survivors into custody, which includes you friend. I'm sure you were not part of the bandits holed up here, but orders are orders." I stared at him, shocked, before slumping back down on the ground, exhausted, my wounds throbbing in pain.
"Fine. You wouldn't happen to have a healer, would you?"
"You were at Helgen." It was less of a question and more of a statement. Tullius recognized me. He sat staring at me from across his quaint little map of Skyrim, buried within the stone walls of Castle Dour, with guards standing at the doors. He had quite the way of making guests feel welcome.
"Yes I was, General. I was on my way here to seek a pardon, until I was captured by some bandits. Luckily for me, this time your Legionaries were on my side. Sort of." Tullius gave a snort, and paced around his map.
"Well, as far as I see it, your involvement in Helgen was all a mistake, and by all accounts you were a captive of the bandits, until you escaped in the assault. Besides, if you were one of those Stormcloak traitors or a bandit you wouldn't have came here willingly," He sighed, rubbing his eyes. He seemed exhausted, but still exuded a aura of authority and strength. I was impressed. "You are sure you don't want to join the Legion? Hadvar speaks quite highly of you, and you managed to escape Helgen, not many can boast of that."
"I am sure sir. No offence to the Empire, but I want no part in this Civil War. I came to Skyrim to learn at the College of Winterhold, not to fight in a war!"
"Very well. If you change your mind, the offer still stands." I gave a slight bow, before exiting. Hadvar was waiting for me in the adjoining room.
"So how did it go?" He asked, boredom leaking through every syllable.
"Well, I am a free man, no worrying about the Legion anymore. I'm off to the docks, to find a ship to Winterhold."
Later, I stumbled into Hadvar in the local inn, nursing a mead. I plunked myself on the stool next to him, and whistled myself up a Cyrodillic Brandy, one of my favorites from home, and had the barkeep leave the bottle with the glass. "Well, the first ship to Winterhold leaves tomorrow morning. So I have a night free for exciting storytelling and large amounts of drinking. Care to join me?" Hadvar laughed, before raising his glass in agreement. I chuckled, before raising my glass to his, and the night began.
"Halt! Why do you seek to cross the bridge and into the College of Winterhold, the center of all magical and mundane knowledge within Skyrim?" The tall Altmer woman stared down at me, her eyes showing her distaste for her duty.
"I see entrance to learn, Altmer." She smirked, before bowing her head slightly.
"Very well. I am Faralda, the teacher of destruction magics here at the College. Walk with me." She spun on her heels, and started to make her way towards the College. With a smacking of glee upon my mind, I followed her across the bridge.
"Go and talk to Mirabelle, she will show you around the rest of the college," Faralda said offhandedly, turning her back to the gate. As she started to walk away, it swung open, and I took my first, tentative steps within the College of Winterhold.
