Skyrim (A Fan-made story)

Skyrim: Dawnguard

An aging man sat near the fire place, enjoying the warmth of the fire. His hair was grey like a steel sword forged from pieces of steel ingot while his face was covered with wrinkles.  But his eyes were still fiery red, almost similar to a heated iron. It was the only part of him that reminded him of his youth. 

            He was nearly dozing off when a child called his name from behind. He looked back and smiled when a boy, almost nearing to the age of seven, approached him.

“Grandpa, can you tell me one of your tales?”

“Not today, John. I’m very tired and your mom-“

“But grandpa!”

“Alright, alright. But you’ll promise me that you won’t tell your mother anything when she comes back. Okay?”

The boy nodded and promptly sat on his lap, making himself comfortable as he waited for his grandfather’s tale. The old man paused for a moment, recollecting his thoughts. But the child did not wait for long as his grandfather returned to reality and spoke of the tale.

                                                                              *  *  *  *

            “Before the war of the Stormcloaks and the Empire, there were two good friends, a Nord and a Redguard. Both of them lived most of their childhood memories in Whiterun, a city of glory and honor.  Situated in the centre of Skyrim and surrounded by hills and mountains, Whiterun was seemingly free from the grasp of war, giving those two pals to enjoy their childhood. Every day, they would play together at Wind district and, sometimes, the Plains district. Once, they wanted to go up the Cloud district, the palace of the Jarl of Whiterun, but promptly dismissed it when they saw guards patrolling at every corner of the area. When rumors of the war came by, the Nord wanted to join the Stormcloaks. He was confident that Ulfric Stormcloak, the leader of the rebellion, was the true High King and the descendent of Tiber Septim, the founding father of the Empire. But the Redguard wasn’t comfortable with his friend’s opinion. He thought differently and was worried that this matter might distant their relationship. Things got worse when the dragons began to appear, destroying everything in their sight. Some folks refused to believe the return of the dragons and claimed that it is a lie that spread through out the land. But lies don’t burn down villages.”

            “However, during this time of trouble, a hero arose and put an end to this madness. Alduin, the first dragon to be created by the Gods and leader of his race, was killed by the hero. The war, too, did not last long as the Stormcloaks overwhelm the land and the blood slaughter for the throne finally came to an end, including the dispute between the two friends. Peace finally returned to the land. But not many realized that another nightmare had arisen. The Vigilants of Stendarr, a group specifically created to face the threat of Daedra, was wiped out by vampires, causing inhuman abominations to appear once more on the surface from the darkness of caves and underground tunnels. Like the Oblivion Crisis, this issue must be eliminated immediately before the destruction of Skyrim is inevitable. In retaliation, the remaining members of the vigil decided to form another group. A group which all vampires will fear. The Dawnguard.”

            “The two friends were already young adults back then. They dreamed to serve their land and to protect their loved ones. Filled with enthusiasm and confidence, they joined the Dawnguard. Unknown to them, fate had an unpleasant plan for them. In their daily life, they went patrol from day to night, eliminating all vampires in their sight. When they returned to base, they sharpened the weapons and mended their armor till the moon is at its nigh. When the Sun emerged from the horizon, they would continue on with their duties.  Slowly, the infestation of the vampires decayed and victory seemed reachable. But it came with a cost.”

            “On one unfortunate day, during one of their patrols, they were ambushed by a group of vampires. Outnumbered, many did not survive. The Nord was fortunate to escape the death penalty. But his friend, however, did not. Sad and grieved, he abandoned the Dawnguard and left for Whiterun to mourn over his loss. Sometimes, he could hear his friend screaming his name over and over again whenever he walks the familiar roads of Whiterun. His cries echoing in his ears. Sometimes, he would wake up from a nightmare of his friend being consumed and eaten by the vampires. Although the last vampire was slain near the ruins of Shriekwind Bastion, a month after the Redguards death, the fear of vampires still lurk in the hearts of people till this very day. Many are still not convinced of the Dawnguards claim. Some say that the vampires are still alive, walking and feeding among us. Some say that they stalk their victims and torment them with paranoia and fear. Who knows? And what has become of our Nord friend? The end of his story is unknown, but let’s just says that he had a happy ending. And so, the tale finally comes to an end.”
Or maybe not?

                                                                            * * * *

            The flame in the fireplace was still burning bright with little amber resting near it. The child in his lap laid asleep, showing obvious innocence of his age. He stared at his grandson and smiled, thinking how it would be like if he was at his age again. A young adventurous boy whose curiosity would be exceedingly much. He sighed at this thought and looked up, only to see the wooden ceiling. He whispered to the silence:

“Did you like my story, Thereon? Or is it too short and abrupt?”

“Not bad. I always believe that you will be a great story teller one day. It’s just that the ending is slightly….unfit for the truth.

From the dark corner, a figure emerged. He was dressed in dark robe, similar to a Daedric worshipper. The only difference is the symbolic skull that does not exist upon his clothing but only of a Daedric follower. His skin was pale under the light of the flame scorching in the fireplace. He looked sick, almost as if he contracted the plague. But his eyes were darkish orange, deep and clear like the mirrors of Akatosh temples.

“That’s the purpose of a lie, old friend. To prevent the truth from hurting others. Even if I wanted to, what exactly do I say? I flee from the heat of battle and left my friend behind to be condemned under the hands of abominations? That I allow my childhood friend to be one of them?” He spoke aloud, but quickly stopped himself as his grandchild stirred in his sleep.

“Pardon my words, Thereon. Is just that…I am the cause of your becoming today. The blame is on me and the guilt is unbearable.”

“All is forgiven, Olfir. Let bygones  be bygone.”

Silence returned for a moment before Olfir resumed their conversation.

“So, what brings you here, old friend? It’s definitely not to catch up with old times, is it?”

“Unfortunately not, Olfir. The Dawnguard has taken out our main group. Most of us survived, but only barely. We’re now scattered, finding refuge all over Skyrim. I believe that my time here would be short and my non- existence wouldn’t be long. I’m just here to say goodbye, in case things don’t turn well for me. But before I leave, I have something of value for you.”

As he spoke, he took out an amulet. It was dark black, but the Ruby at its centre was dense red. Olfir took it before recognizing it. He looked at it with awe, surprised to have an amulet made entirely of dragon bone. The Ruby glittered with beauty radiance as the light from the fireplace reflected of it.

“Think of it as a parting gift. Goodbye, old friend. May fortune find you.”

The dark figure went back to the dark corner without making much noise and vanished. Olfir knew that he had gone back to his fellow brethrens. He stared at the amulet in his hands once more and whispered to the silence;

“Goodbye to you too, Thereon, and may the eight divines smile upon you.”

And with that, he allowed himself to slip back into his thoughts with the amulet still glittering in his hand.