Disclaimer: I don't own Skyim

A big thanks to Xanse13, for reading this before I posted. I really appreciated your continued support of this story, I was feeling stuck while writing the end of this chapter, and having you look over it really helped.

Thanks to BardChimera747 for your wonderful review. I wish you good luck with your next build, I am honored to have been any help with that! Your feedback is deeply appreciated, and I tried to keep it in mind while writing this chapter.

A.N I apologize for this taking so long, I am having trouble writing as fast as I would like to which is why a lot of my stories have updating slowly recently (or not at all, hang in there Rose & Jarred!) I am trying to prioritize Night and Sun (hopefully I'll have the next chapter out soon) as well as this. I have started logging literally everything I do when playing Skyrim, and try to really get into character more than I had been when I started. I am really itching to write about what I have played recently, and hope you guys will enjoy reading it when we get there.

Clean Slate

After being underground and blinded by fear for so long, at first glance the exit to the cave looks like a portal. A hint of daylight shines through the cave, and foliage can be seen on the other side. I feel a nice breeze, and allow myself to think of happy endings. Perhaps things can get better here on out.

When we exit the cave I flinch at the sight of Alduin's mighty form flying overhead. Right then and there I make another vow. To learn to see one of those things, and feel excitement rather than terror. Even so, I doubt I will ever get used to one of those appearing out of nowhere. How empowering it must feel, I think, to scope the skies as if they were made for me. Bringing energy and chaos wherever I go. I raise a hand in Alduin's direction. Ralof shoots me a bewildered look, but I ignore him. Goodbye, O mighty world eater. The next time we meet face to face I will be ready for you. And that's a promise.

The terrain around me is the home of numerous trees and tall grasses. A rabbit digs a hole in the coarse pine needle littering ground, scurrying away at the sight of two armed humans. As I tread through the wilderness, the tall grasses scratch against my bare arms, and the kinks in my armor. I needed to find better gear, and soon. Rubbing at my exposed flesh, I have to bite my tongue not to itch them. Rolaf shoots me a sympathetic look, but we don't slow down. Who knows what could be hunting us?

Suddenly the Stormcloak stops. I freeze, has something bad happened? How would he know? I scan our surroundings- nothing. Then he turns to me, and I calm down slightly. His expression isn't distressed nor alarmed. "What is it?" I ask, brows furling under my helmet.

"It's probably better if we split up. Thank you, I could not have made it if it weren't for you today." He says genuinely grateful.

Okaaay. That's a great way for one of us (most likely me) to end up dead. However, I don't know Rolaf very well (Or at all) and don't feel like arguing. No matter what he said, I still doubt myself. Yes, I did think quick on my feet. I should be grateful, as well as proud. Still, I am nervous about parting ways with my only ally in these strange lands. I am also nervous about dying, and so far I had no reason not to trust Rolaf's judgment. "Uh, sure." I say, my expression blank.

He just nods. I let out my nerves in a deep breath, heading off in the opposite direction. Okay, where to? It is times like these when I wish I hadn't been kidnapped, nearly beheaded, and had to flee from a dragon attack. I wish none of this had happened. Why did I have to get caught up in the war? If it wasn't for those dumb Nords and their big wars, I could be crossing the border safely, map in hand, clean slate.

The surrounding area was quiet- peaceful almost. I shiver. It has started raining, the cold wetness seeping through my found armor. I need to do... something. Anything. And fast. I don't remember most of what the map had on it, geography was never my thing, but I do remember the holds, and some major cities. I know where I am, sort of. Everything is blurry, I still can't remember where this all started. Why I left my family. Where Havok is now. Did he manage to get here safely? Is he still trying to cross the border?

I see some miscellaneous plants scattered about. All are new to me, but I pick them anyway. I've never been much of an alchemist, but perhaps it is a profession I should look into. The pines around me vaguely resemble the ones back home. I wonder if their branches have the same medicinal properties. I'm not going to risk it, the bark seems too thick to easily snap a branch. I don't have the time, nor the bravery to venture into the shady underbrush.

I am trekking through a patch of considerably long grass when I bump into something, or rather someone. "Oof!" I stagger, my hands reaching behind me to catch my fall. Between my armor and the softness of the dirt, I could have jumped from three times my height without breaking a sweat, but that didn't mean I liked randomly falling. My head jerks up as I hit the ground, and I frantically try and locate my weapon, expecting a foe to attack at any second. I am surprised, however, when I see a familiar face reaching out a hand apologetically.

Relieved, and slightly flustered I jump to my feet, ignoring Ralof's outstretched hand. "What is it?" I ask, had we not agreed to part ways?

"I'm so glad I found you, it occured to me splitting up to not be a good strategy." He explains quickly.

I sigh. Wimp. "Okay, let's go then."

We walk in silence for some time. Ralof occasionally stopping to check his map (where did he find one?) and I to gather supplies. We don't come across any hostile creatures or people, the dragon's shouts must have scared everything off. The natural path we are following starts to climb uphill, and nearing the top I can make out an eerie looking structure in the distance. "Bleak Falls Barrow." the Storm Cloak explained grimly "The place is said to be crawling with Draugr. The idea of it still gives me nightmares."

So even soldiers didn't venture into the place of the undead willingly. From what Havok had told me, Skyrim was teeming with monsters and bandits, and that everyone who was someone fought them on a regular basis. Guess these guys are more concerned with killing each other than protecting the people. Come to think of it, my family had said mercenary work wouldn't be hard to find, as not many Nords attempted it these days. But that finding someone who will trust me enough to pay for it straight up, not so easy. I couldn't imagine how fighting in some war could give one more glory than clearing bandits lairs and fighting trolls. I have never understood politics, nor thought bloodshed a feasible strategy for gaining what one wants. A Nord's gods are a big part of their culture, but for a highly religious group, they seem lacking in morals.

As if the divines had known I was thinking of them, we come across three large stones. "Guardian Stones." Ralof says, pointing them out "They grant you blessings. You can change stones after, but only harbor one's blessing at a time."

Mage Stone. Warrior Stone. Thief Stone. I go up to each of them, as Rolaf describes each of them to me. I am not sure which would suit me best, I'm glad it's not permanent if I don't want it to be. I move up to the Warrior Stone, boldly. I am not a mage, a thief, not even a warrior. But I could be. It was in my blood, and an essential skill if I wanted to survive out here. I accept the blessing.

"Warrior, good! Those stars will guide you to honor and glory." I hear Ralof tell me, but I barely hear him. Wow. I'd never felt anything like this. It was wonderful.

We are nearing the end of the journey, the hill slopes down and we are able to move quicker than before. Ralof keeps telling me of how wonderful the Stormcloak cause is. As annoying as the guy's pestering is, I can't help but fantasize about joining the army. It would be a place where I knew I belonged. Plus, I am annoyed at the Thalmor's control, and their silly rules. It would bring me immense join to end their dictative reign.

"I have a sister in Riverwood." Ralof states informatively.

"Oh, okay." I say not sure where he is going with this. He continues,"Her name is Gerdur she runs the mill. She could help you get settled here."

"Oh! That's where we are going." I feel extremely stupid but also annoyed. He hasn't been exactly clear before now.

"Where are you coming from again?" He asks brows furled, eyes sweeping over me as if I was a complex puzzle he was trying to solve.

As uncomfortable as it is making me, I truly hope he figures it out. It's like someone took a meat cleaver down the side of my face, and left me to guess what had been taken. I have never been exactly sure of myself, and now I can barely remember my parents names, much less why I am in this strange country. His question, at least, I could answer. "I'm from Daggerfall." I explain "I identify mainly as a Breton, but have some redguard blood."

"So, you're like the ultimate mashup?"

"Sort of. I mean Bretons originated from an old kind of human and elves. Really we are our own race now, though."

Didn't this guy know basic first era history? And why so many questions? I guess the rumors are right, in skyrim secrets are practically nonexistent. One person's business is everyone's. Well, that applies to me now too. "Remind me why everyone here is so bloodthirsty?"

The stormcloak gave me a pointed look. As if to say 'not funny, but I'll answer you anyway'. "Ulfric Stormcloak was tired of living under the Thalmors rule. He killed the high king with his voice, but when he tried to take the position the imperial side got, er, mad."

"Mad enough to decapitate Ulfric and anyone who he's so much as looked at?" I cut in bitterly. Then the full extent of his words hit me. "Wait- with his voice? Like a shout?"

Ralof smiled. "Yeah. Exactly like that."

If someone had tried to convince me of that a few days ago I would ignore their words as nonsense. I mean, if someone had tried convincing me of Alduin's appearance, or any dragon for the matter, I would have a similar reaction. Now that I knew the truth, I would believe almost anything. "The leader of the rebellion is a dragonborn?" I ask softly.

"Oh, no. No. There hasn't been a dragonborn for forever."

"There hasn't been a dragon for forever either." I say, then add "So how can he shout?"

"He studied with the greybeards, I think. They taught him the language of the dragons, and he used the knowledge to kill the high king." Ralof explains.

"So anyone can learn to shout?" I ask, a hopeful tone slipping into my voice.

Ralof chuckled. "Don't get your hopes up. Ulfric is a hero, not all can be like him. If you really want to learn, you will have to work for it."

Well, duh. I frown but don't reply. I know I am being silly to doubt Ulfric's greatness, but after seeing him so diminished, facing death? He didn't seem like the powerful man he was said to be. He just seemed...human.

I see the outlines of structures in the distance. Riverwood. We will be there soon. A stormcloak rebel passes by on the road, and halts by us, recognizing my companion. Ralof stops as well, and points out Riverwood to me. "This is my comrade. I need to report to him about the situation. You can go on ahead." Ralof turns to thank me again, and I offer my own gratitude. I am alive. Walking towards the city, I soon break into a run. Ralof shouts something to me. That he will meet up with me in Riverwood.

Being so close to society gives me comfort, and I feel safe enough to look around. Though skyrim is cold, it has beautiful sites. On my way from the keep I had passed through flourishing forest and natural paths that were just lovely. A bubbling river ran past the small town. I made a sharp turn around the bend, watching fondly as a mocharch flew past. For such a cool climate, the environment was at no point lacking of growth and natural scenery. The howl of a wolf shook me out of my thoughts, and I picked up my pace. The buildings came into view. One minute it was hidden, the next, boom! I am still getting used to all the mountains and hills here. I could be up high and far away from a place and see it perfectly well, while as I got lower and closer it disappeared until I stumble upon it.

As the city comes into view I search my bag for some paper and a quill. I trace my finger a few centimeters away from the standing stones, and write Riverwood in big letters. I draw a little landmark, then stuff the paper back in my bag. Someday I will have a full map. I can make this my home.

I enter the settlement, traveling under a large wooden bridge. Guards patrol above me, as well as throughout the city. A handful of bedrolls surround the guard's campfire and I make a mental note of this. Surely no one would mind if I crashed there now and then. I certainly lacked the septims to stay at an inn regularly. Making my way around the place, I ask a guard if they knew where the mill owner, Gerdur would be. One points her out to me, and I head towards her. She is dressed in a casual brown farm dress, and her blond hair is swept back, hanging loosely behind her. She has a stern expression on her face, constantly doing one thing or another, clearly busy. I walk up to her, trying to be as calm as I can.

"Ralof said you could help me out." I say trying to look friendly and sincere.

The woman gives me a hard expression. "Ralof? How do you know him?" she asks suspiciously.

"I'm a friend." I say "And he promised you could help."

"If you really are Ralof's friend, I'll be glad to help you. But you didn't answer my question - how do you know him?" she presses.

Wow. Gerdur doesn't miss a thing. "We escaped from Helgen together." I tell her.

"You did? We heard that Ulfric was captured... ... no, sorry, but in times like these I can't just take the word of a stranger who wanders into town claiming to be my brother's friend."

How could I convince her I am being honest? I force myself to recall the horrible events. "A dragon attacked Helgen and destroyed it. Ralof and I escaped together." I explain grimly.

"A dragon? In Helgen? It can't be... although... It would explain what I saw earlier... flying down the valley from the south... I thought I must have just been seeing things…" Gerdur rambles incredulously.

"That dragon flew off this way. You must have seen it." I try again to get her to believe me.

"You're right, I saw it. But... how's that possible? Dragons don't exist... they're just stories from long ago…" Gerdur struggles to wrap her mind around it, and I have to sympathize with her. I feel the same way.

I state firmly "Ralof will tell you the same thing. He should be here any minute."

"I don't know why... but I actually believe you. You've got the look of someone who's just seen a dragon. Things just go from bad to worse. First the war, now dragons... what's this world coming to?" Gerdur fretts, finally giving in "The Jarl needs to know if there's a dragon on the loose. Riverwood is defenseless... We need to get word to Jarl Balgruuf in Whiterun to send whatever troops he can. If you'll do that for me, I'll be in your debt."

"Of course" I say, not really knowing what I am getting myself into "Where is that?"

"Cross the river and then head north. You'll see Whiterun on its hill as you pass the falls." She instructs.

"Do- do you have any supplies I could take?" I ask, hesitant if she'll allow a stranger to use her stuff.

"Like I said, I'm glad to help in any way I can. Help yourself to whatever you need, within reason."

She hands me some stuff she has on her. I feel weird accepting free goods, but I can't afford to refuse. Plus, I am the one who asked. Gerdur offers me food and health potions. My mouth waters at the sight of a glorious apple pie. I have to stop myself from gobbling it all down now. "What's the jarl like?" I ask as we wait for Ralof.

"Jarl Balgruuf? I don't mean to be disrespectful, as he's ruled Whiterun Hold well for years, but he seems in over his head now." I am not looking forward to being the bearer of bad news after that comment, she continues "He's been trying to stay out of the war, but it can't last. He's going to have to pick a side. I'm afraid he's going to make the wrong choice." she speculates.

Interesting. I thought all jarls were one side or the other. I hope he can stay neutral for as long as possible. It makes me feel at ease to know there is a place where the war seems less prominent. At least when it comes to picking sides. "Is Balgruuf loyal to the Empire?" I ask.

"I wouldn't say that. But he and Ulfric have been at odds for years, and I'm afraid Balgruuf will end up siding with the Empire because of it. But it's hard to believe that even Balgruuf would choose Elisif over Ulfric."

"So you're on the stormcloak side like your brother?"

"Of course. Ulfric's cause is just. It's time for Skyrim to rid itself of the Empire." Gerdur confirms. "The Empire may have been good for Skyrim once upon a time, but those days are long past. Banning the worship of Talos was the last straw. Thalmor everywhere, dragging people off for honoring our own gods! I'm glad Ralof is helping drive them out of here. If I was a bit younger, I might have joined the fight myself."

Hearing about the Thalmor from someone who had to live with it, awoke a new sort of rage inside of me. I try and clear my head, breaking the tension by asking "So who is Elisif?"

"I suppose she's Jarl Elisif now. She married High King Torygg just before Ulfric killed him. The Empire supports her claim to be High Queen. I don't really have anything against her - not her fault that her husband Torygg was bought and paid for by the Empire. But she's nothing but a puppet for the Empire now, with her husband Torygg dead. Ulfric will make sure she never takes the throne as High Queen."

"Wait, wait." I stop her, curious "Tell me more. Ulfric killed the high king, right?" I repeat.

"Some say murdered, but it was a lawful challenge in the old way. Ulfric called him out as a traitor to Skyrim, and killed him in single combat. If Torygg couldn't defend his throne, he had no business being High King."

That...kind of made sense. I do not know how I feel about Torygg being killed in cold blood, and for what, change of power? Weren't there more peaceful methods? And even if there weren't, the High King was not the problem. The Thalmor are. "There's no High King now." I mention, Skyrim seems to be doing awfully well for the fact that it is basically under anarchy.

"No, not until the Moot meets to choose another. And it won't meet until one side or the other wins the war. Don't worry, though. Ulfric is our rightful High King. He'll drive out the Empire and Skyrim will have peace at last."

I am not sure how consoling the naïve gesture was, and I have have no time to ask any more questions. For, suddenly Gerdur's stern expression turns into surprised, then gleeful one. "Gerdur!" I hear a familiar voice and see Ralof approaching with the stormcloak rebel from before.

"Brother! Mara's mercy, you're safe! Your friend told me about Helgen…"

I turn toward the stormcloak, as Gerdur fusses over her brother. "Hello. I am Stormrider." The stormcloak says, in a rather formal tone. "Ralof told me about Helgen as well. I'm sorry that happened to you."

Stormrider was a tall redguard woman, dressed head to toe in strong armor, a bow strapped to her back. Her eyes had a wild look to them, as if something lurked in their depths. I can see from a first glance that Stormrider is not a person to be trifled with. "Thanks." I mumble, not wanting to talk about Helgen anymore than I have already had too. "My name is Rosaeline Selve, it is a pleasure to meet you." I hold out a hand.

The woman stares at it for a moment before taking my bare hand, in her gloved one. It was awkward shaking with someone wearing heaving armor, and though she was gentle, I could feel Stormrider's strength. "Do all stormcloak's dress like you?" I blurt, thinking if they did, the Imperials wouldn't stand a chance.

To my surprise the woman let out a laugh. "Goodness, no. I don't know many who do." she lowers her voice "To tell you the truth, I am not one for the war. I do some tasks for Ulfric and his men, but really I prefer adventure over all that bloodshed. I'm a mercenary in trade, actually."

"Really?" I ask, eyes widening. "What's it like?"

She laughs again. It is a nice friendly sound. There is something about her that I just can't quite place. She seems confident, a nice personality, clearly hiding something complex. Only, she does not seem withdrawn, nor bad intentioned. It is almost as if Stormrider is avoiding the spotlight for the good of others, not her own preference. "It's slow at first. Dangerous. Pays well." The redguard takes a moment to think "It is fun to tell you the truth. I get to see the world, meet new people. Very, very scary at some points. Sometimes it feels like I'm constantly cheating death, getting into things I probably should have left alone."

She takes a moment to look at me. I wonder what she sees. My armor miss matched, barely holding itself together. My coarse hair a mess under my helmet. Blood stains my side, and I haven't eaten properly in days. I am a mess, there's no other way to put it. This revelation is what makes Stormrider's observation catch me so off guard. "You're young, kid. You have your whole life ahead of you. That's the thing about Skyrim, there's the war and the Nords deciding whether they want to be the high elves puppets or not. But there's also a whole country of unique places, and inside them- unique people. So many have fallen into the path of darkness, so many have died defending what they hold true in their hearts. And you." I struggle to make eye contact. Great divines, this lady says the deepest things. She continues, "You choose who you want to be. How you spend your days, how you end them. Not everyone gets that choice, so make the best of it. You made your way here with many expectations no doubt, so go discover how you can meet 'em."

I open my mouth to reply, but I have nothing. I just stare blankly until I hear Ralof say my name. "Not a comrade yet, but a friend. I owe Rosaeline my life, in fact. Is there somewhere we can talk? There's no telling when the news from Helgen will reach the Imperials…"

"You're right. Follow me."

Gerdur gestures for us to come, and I look back at Stormrider. She gives me a wise smile. "Go on, I have other places to be, and it seems you do as well." at my hesitation she adds "Times like these can be dark, if you ever need a mentor to help you find your way, come visit me in Whiterun. I have a house there, Breezehome."

I nod, then turn back to see Gerdur and Ralof already making their way to somewhere private. I quickly follow as they lead me to spot near the mill where no one is around. "Hod!" Gerdur calls to a man nearby "Come here a minute. I need your help with something."

"What is it, woman? Sven drunk on the job again?" he stays where he is.

"Hod. Just come here." Gerdur tries again, patience waning.

Hod turns around, spotting me, and then Ralof. "Ralof! What are you doing here? Ah... I'll be right down."

I am not sure I like this Hod, but I do not feel it is my place to say anything. In fact, I feel lucky to be a part of what is clearly a family matter. A young boy who must be their child runs up to us. "Uncle Ralof! Can I see your axe? How many Imperials have you killed? Do you really know Ulfric Stormcloak?"

"Hush, Frodnar. This is no time for your games." Gerdur attempts to quiet him and send him away "Go and watch the south road. Find us if you see any Imperial soldiers coming."

Clearly Gerdur's word are not as respected by her family as she means them to be. Either that or children are masters at talking back. "Aw, mama, I want to stay and talk with uncle Ralof!" he whines.

Ralof steps in, playing the affectionate uncle...Who is secretly on his sisters side. "Look at you, almost a grown man! Won't be long before you'll be joining the fight yourself!"

"That's right! Don't worry uncle Ralof, I won't let those soldiers sneak up on you!" Frodnar obliges gleefully.

As the boy runs off his father approaches. "Now, Ralof, what's going on? You two look pretty well done in." Hod inquires.

"I can't remember the last time I slept. Where to start?" Rolaf says, his face growing dark "Well, the news you heard about Ulfric was true. The Imperials ambushed us outside Darkwater Crossing. Like they knew exactly where we'd be. That was...two days ago, now. We stopped at Helgen this morning, and I thought it was all over. Had us lined up for the headsman's block and ready to start chopping!"

"The cowards!" Gerdur's eyes flashed with fear and rage.

"They wouldn't dare give Ulfric a fair trial. Treason, for fighting for your own people! All of Skyrim would have seen the truth then!" Rolaf paused his rant, the continued "But then...out of nowhere...a dragon attacked."

"You don't mean a real, live..." Hod stammers.

Gerdur nods at him grimly. Ralof puts a hand on his forehead, and says"I can hardly believe it myself, and I was there! As strange as it sounds, we'd be dead if not for that dragon. In the confusion, we managed to slip away." He looked to his sister "Are we really the first to make it to Riverwood?"

"Nobody has come up the south road today, as far as I know." Gerdur replies.

"Good. Maybe we can lay up for a while. I'd hate to put your family in danger, Gerdur, but..."

"Nonsense. You and your friend are welcome to stay as long as you need. Let me worry about the Imperials. Any friend of Ralof's is a friend of mine." She turns to me "Here's the key to the house. Stay as long as you like. There's something you can do for me. For all of us."

"Wow. Thank you!" I breathe, not used to this kindness from people I barely knew. Except from Rolaf perhaps. I can see how they are related.

I take the spare key, and place it generally in the small pocket of my bag. I look to Gerdur once more. "We need to send word to Jarl Balgruuf to send whatever troops he can. Riverwood is defenseless. If you do that for me, I'll be in your debt."

"I won't let you down." I promise.

"Thanks, sister. I knew I could count on you." Rolaf thanks his sister.

"I ought to get back to work before I'm missed, but did anyone else escape? Did Ulfric..." I can almost see the wave of dread passing over her.

"Don't worry. I'm sure he made it out. It'll take more than a dragon to stop Ulfric Stormcloak!" Rolaf declares, and I think Do these people trust their faith more than probability?

"I'll let them into the house and, you know, show them where everything is." Hod cuts in, turning to me.

Gerdur gives throws him a look. "Hhmm. Help them drink up our mead, you mean." then she turned again to Rolaf "Good luck, brother. I'll see you later."

"Don't worry about me. I know how to lay low."

Ralof's figure gets smaller and smaller as we head off separately, for good this time. It doesn't occur to me to miss him, he was a travel companion, someone keeping me closer to life than death. I realize I didn't really ever know him as a person. Though I feel no need to ever see the stormcloak again, I send a prayer to the divines. That a nice person like Ralof will survive the war. Honor or no, death on the battlefield, is still just death.

Hod shows me to their house, and I thank him for all he and his family has done for me. He urges me to stay the night, and rest before my journey. I politely decline, itching to be on the move. I know I could never have gotten this far without help, but I need to do this myself. I came here to take life into my own hands, and finally I have the chance. The freedom. There is no way I am wasting a second of that.

Double checking my pack, I head over to the blacksmith. According to Hod the owner is an imperial by the name of Alvor. Despite their different beliefs, Gerdur's family are on friendly terms with the blacksmith, and visit his shop often. When I arrive, Alvor is at work on the shop's porch, busy sharpening a blade. "Excuse me?" I say, and the man looks up from his work to catch my eye "I'm heading to Whiterun, and Hod said you could help me with supplies…"

My words didn't surprise Alvor the slightest, in fact he seems to have been expecting me. "Ah, yes. Hadvar told me about you."

"Wha- what?" I stutter, Gerdur had said no one else had some by here "You must be mistaken. I traveled here with...someone else."

I avoid mentioning Rolaf. He had said he was lying low, and I anywho, if Hadvar has been here, I am not as safe as I thought I am. Alvor looks me over, as if he didn't believe me. "Okay." he says after awhile "I guess I mistook you for someone else. Apologies. My nephew Hadvar came by a few hours ago, said some prisoners escaped. During a dragon attack no less! I can see from the worried look in your eyes, you can hardly believe it more than I do." He chuckled "Hey, where'd you say you were going again? Whiterun? Think you could tell the jarl about all this while you're there? No need to mention the escapees. The only one with a bounty is Ulfric himself, and he is heavily guarded anyway."

"Uh, yeah I could do that." I say, trying to remember why I came "I need supplies though. I have some stuff, but if I could get a better blade. Or maybe some small pouches to carry my stuff?"

"Of course. I have some stuff here you might find useful." He says handing me the blade he was working on, and a few leather pouches which I quickly attach to my belt. "I could trade your extra supplies for coin, you know. It seems in decent shape."

I hand him the stormcloak armor, a practically blunt sword, and my extra helmet. Slipping the gold into one of my new pouches, I barely care how bad the deal was. I do not need the stuff I sold, but I badly need the septims. Kissing Riverwood goodbye, I cross the river, following the road north like Gerdur had instructed.

I pick more of the flowers I find by the edge of the road. One of the guards had told me these were mountain flowers. I pick blue ones, and red ones, and purple ones. I have absolutely no idea what they do but they weigh almost nothing so I stuff them in one of the leather pouches, not caring to sort them. Whiterun comes into view a few hours and about a dozen wolves later. My sword is bloodied, and I have gotten tired of wiping it off on the grass. In the books I used to read as a child, warriors had convient cloths in their scabbards. I make a note to buy one and I wonder for the billionth time how Havok is faring. He is around two years my younger and an animal lover to the end. I cannot imagine my soft best friend killing a wolf, even if it meant saving his own life.

I pass by a farm, and the owner's assistants Nimriel and Gloth are scarily nice. They allow me to pick their produce whenever I want, and offer to buy it from me. Whiterun's walls are in sight, and I feel a wave of calm pass over me as I see it. I decide this is the best possible place to start over. "Khajiit has wares if you have the coin." I spot a group of khajiit camped out outside the city. "I don't have the coin." I say back in a disappointed tone, eyeing their goods longingly.

"Come back if you want to trade." And they get back to what they were doing like I had never shown up.

And there are the city gates. I rush up to the large doors anticipating my arrival. This was it, this is it! Scoping the winding stair way leading to the entrance, I take a final bounding step. And fall off the edge.