Alcarien's Accounts | Chapter 7 | Ending Edited

  • If following Hoster made me a fool, I did it only because he was being a bigger fool. Of course, hindsight makes situations clearer, and I can see that I would have done the same thing in his situation, but at the time, I thought it was nothing but silliness that bade him return to Helgen. Still, though, I followed. I am not certain why I did, in truth. Perhaps I had some premonition that Hoster would be a valuable friend for me on my journey, or perhaps I wanted to make sure he was safe. Maybe I was still running on adrenaline. Regardless of purpose, though, I followed. Bilandis came behind me, with Meeko bringing up the rear.

    Glancing back at the small fellow who was still struggling to tote the one-handed blade, I paused. "Are you certain you don't want to wait for us?"

    I regretted the words immediately. It would be a lie to say that I did not think Bilandis less than capable, but I had not intended to offend him as I so plainly did. 

    "You think I'm a coward?" he snapped, an anger I had not originally thought possible in his jolly features.

    Hoster scoffed ahead of me. "No, lad, he thinks you're a weakling," he butted in with a casual cruelness I could only blame on his fresh grief.

    "Excuse me?" Bilandis shot back, puffing out his chest, looking unfortunately comical as he stood there, his sword nearly half his size and much too big for his hands. "I got out of there, didn't I?"

    "Aye, without having to so much as lifting your blade t' defend yourself. Not that you could have, of course, if it came down to it, hm?"

    "Perhaps I'm simply not as eager to murder as you Stormcloaks seem to be!"

    By now, we had come to a halt and Hoster had turned straight around to face Bilandis. Towering over the little merchant, Hoster the War Horse seemed nearly as threatening as the dragon just on the other side of those walls. Seemingly oblivious to his obvious disadvantage, Bilandis would not back down. Growling, Meeko, the little beast, made it plain that he did not like the tone of the words thrown at his master. The two continued, and I feared I would have to put myself between them before Hoster tore Bilandis's arms off.

    A great sound erupted from within the walls, and the argument ceased. The three of us stood, transfixed, as a noise not unlike a raging storm arose from within the walls. We turned our frightened eyes towards Helgen and watched as a massive form became apparent amid the curling smoke. It was then that I got my first good look at Him.

    The beast I would later know as Alduin, the World-Eater seemed to be as big as Helgen itself as it raised itself into the smoldering air. Its black hulk of a body was a spot of midnight in the center of a noon sky, it's wings serving to blot out the sunlight as it ascended higher and higher. With a thunderous beating of its wings, the creature moved with a grace that something of that size should not possess and sailed across the sky, with as much ease as a bat would manage. 

    Not a one of us managed a word as we watched the creature fly out of sight. Not even as much as a pant from Meeko. The only sound for quite some time was the crackling of flames from behind.

    Finally, Hoster broke the silence. "By the Nine," he swore.

    "It's flying towards Riverwood," Bilandis noted, his blue eyes as wide as saucers. 

    The name was not familiar to me, but the idea of the beast going after other settlements put me in a bit of a panic. "We should go warn them."

    "Why?" Hoster asked. "We could never get there before it. Besides, we're not done here yet."

    Bilandis sighed. "He's right. If that thing wants to attack Riverwood, there's no way we could get there in time to warn them."

    Without another word, Hoster continued on his way up to the gates of Helgen and Bilandis followed with Meeko at his heel. For a moment longer, I stood, looking after the monster.

    The Dragon. Yes, I knew what it was. Long forgotten beasts, Dragons had always been a favorite topic of my readings. I had loved stories about dragons and dragon slayers, but now that one had flown out of the pages in which it belonged, I could not claim any fondness for the beasts. With a new weight in me, I turned to follow my unlikely companions. 

    I caught up to them at the gates, where Hoster was just about to go through.

    "Be careful," I whispered.

    "Why? The beast's gone," he replied, striding into the village.

    Bilandis looked at me in curiousity. He had to see the panic I was trying to conceal, for he looked all kinds of bewildered. "Meeko, come," he said before following Hoster. It surprised me to see just how readily the dog obeyed. With a sigh, I continued on in after them, taking a great deal more caution than the others.

    Helgen was a disaster. The buildings were all ablaze and falling in on themselves. Even as I looked around the desolation, I could not remove the image of the loveliness that had once been characteristic of the little settlement. All of the people. The way the sunrise had looked in the sky. The kindness Vilod had showed me. And now the place was laid low by a dragon, out of nowhere. Innocents, dead. As dramatic as it sounds, to this day, I need only close my eyes to revisit the terror of that day, to hear the anguished cries of the burning men, women, and children. And as I looked at Hoster and saw the genuine, real feeling on his careworn face, I could not begrudge him for wanting to return. Tears loomed in his green, green eyes, and I felt myself sink a bit.

    Still, despite the emotion brimming in him, he led us on. There was something poetic, something dramatic in the sight of him as he strode through the city. Broad-shouldered, red-haired, and grim-faced, a giant ax in his calloused hands. All was fire around him, but all must have been fire within him, for the courage with which he led us towards where his sister had fallen. In my fancies, I nearly forgot the worry in my heart.

    I was quickly reminded, for Hoster suddenly came to a halt, holding up a hand to stop us. There was a look of mingled rage and disgust. I did not need to ask what had given him pause, for there, in the square where the Stormcloaks had been executed,' there was a new spectacle, one even grimmer.

    A pile of bodies. Burning. So many of them, there were, and the fire so new that I was certain it had to have been nearly all of the dead whose bodies had been salvageable. I saw a question form in Bilandis's eyes long before he spoke it, but I warned him with a look to keep it within him. 'Who did this?' I knew he was going to ask, but my unspoken answer was 'Someone who yet remains here and who can mean us nothing but harm.'

    Meeko, who was a good deal beneath my line of sight, had not paused as we had. It took me a moment to realize that he had continued out into the open, looking around and whimpering. There was a human-like disdain in his eyes as he regarded the destruction, the death. But for all that awareness, the beast did not have a clue the danger in which it was in of discovery.

    "Meeko," I hissed, not wanting to raise my voice. The dog looked back at me, and I fancied I could see the impudence there. "Meeko, come."

    Bilandis realized the danger, and called softly for the dog. With no little shock, I watched the dog's hurry to obey. Without an ounce of hesitation, the dog changed its course and came right back.

    And not a moment too soon. The spot in which Meeko had just been suddenly was struck by a ball of fire. With a yelp, Meeko rushed over to us.

    "What in Oblivion-" Hoster shouted in a fright that we all shared.

    "Run!" I cried, doubling back. This time, Meeko was not arguing. The dog took off for the gates.

    Time seemed to double in speed as we rushed back to the gates. Another fireball came at us, this time in my direction, and I had to dive to avoid it. Struggling to get back to my feet, I saw yet another and barely managed to duck beneath it. Bilandis was already halfway back to the gate, I could see as I glanced behind me, and Hoster was running wildly after him. The Nord looked over his shoulder and saw me frozen.

    "Come on, Elf!" he shouted, more desperation than irritation in his voice.

    I turned to follow, but another voice froze me in my path.

    "It's useless to run!" it cried in a terrible, mocking rasp. "There's nowhere to hide, nowhere to escape to when the world burns!"

    The Dunmer stood before the burning corpses, and he himself seemed engulfed in flames. A hood over his head, I could not make out any of his features, save a scornful sneer and two eyes of red. A ball of fire took form around his extended hand as he called out to me. 

    "Alcarien!" Hoster shouted again, but I could not tear my eyes from the Dunmer. Even as I felt Hoster dragging me towards the gate, I could not look away from that fiery demon, from those red eyes that mocked me. He did not attack again, but his lewd laughter laid me lower than any fireball could have. 

    "This is only the beginning!" the Dunmer shouted as I lost sight of him.

    The next moments passed in a haze for me. I am not embarrassed to say that there was an almost supernatural feeling of dread in me. I do not presently know how I knew it, but as I had received those few words from that monster, I seemed to already know just how big a part he would play in my story. His words were seared into my mind and I could not stop stewing over them, remembering them, remembering the way the fires had engulfed him but not consumed him. 

    Centuries later, a voice reached me and pulled me out of my stupor.

    "We should be there soon," Bilandis informed me.

    I was looking up into the sky, somehow supported and being moved. The day seemed so beautiful, so bright, that I had to wonder how long I had been lost to the world. Somehow, though, my body had continued to exist even when my mind had turned its attention to something else entirely. Looking around, I realized I was in Hoster's massive arms. The Nord was carrying me as easily as he would carry a sack of flour. From this angle, I was struck with just how wide his stubbly jaw was, just how dramatic his features were. Hoster War-Horse was not an attractive man, I would not say, but he was certainly a masculine one; on that fact, none could argue.

    "Almost where?" I asked.

    Hoster glanced down at me, and I thought I saw a bit of embarrassment in his green eyes. Clearly, Hoster was not given to carrying grown elves around the high roads of Skyrim. "Oh, are you still with us, then?" he asked with a smile that might have been intended to be friendly, though it seemed harsh to me.

    "Riverwood," Bilandis said, answering my question as he trotted along, trying to match Hoster's long strides. The little merchant was still toting his sword, the stubborn man. Meeko was happily meandering along at Bil's heel. 

    With a dazed smile, I mused aloud, "We all made it, then?"

    "Aye," Hoster answered softly, his lips pulled taut. And I remembered we had not all made it. I remembered the pile of bodies, the fire that was licking them indiscriminately. Elsiv, and too many others.

    Upset with my insensitivity, I began to move a bit, mumbling about being able to walk. With a thank you to Hoster, I was on my feet once again.

    "There," Bilandis said some minutes later. "Riverwood."

    Hoster grunted, still within himself. "Seems that beast didn't pay them a visit."

    As we rounded the corner, the walls of the small settlement came into view. A pleasant hamlet, it seemed to me, and I was looking forward to bathing, resting by its waters, getting clean clothes and fresh food, but then I remembered the tidings we brought. Tidings of danger, of doom, and of fire.

    "Come, then," I said, quickening my pace, "Let us be the bearers of bad news."