Chapter VI: On the Witcher Path - 22nd of Last Seed

The mountainous pathway that I had climbed down had taken me all the way back to Riverwood. There had been much celebration on my return for rumours of a wedding had been spread which I had to manually squash down to no avail. Camilla had rejoiced at my return, forgetting the harsh words that I had been said when I had given the claw to a wide-eyed Lucan who coughed up the money on the spot. Camilla had refused the gold, instead asking that they spent one last night together before I would have to go, possibly never to return. I could not deny her so here I lay in the darkness of Riverwood's tavern, restless after waking up in the middle of the night with the moon having long ascended over the White River that ran through the village.

I looked over her tufts of hair gleaming in the breath-taking moonlight. It had taken the rest of the day to trek down the mountain and get back to Riverwood, a local hag helpfully helping out with directions in the forest. She was a sweet lady, old with white hair and wrinkles innumerable that looked like they had been on her face before the standing stones had appeared millennia ago. How she survived the madness that was Skyrim for so long was beyond me, especially out there, alone in the wilderness. Hod had called her a woodland witch when I had first regaled the inhabitants of the village with the tale in the tavern. If so then I was lucky that she had decided not to trick me into an oven to cook me whole Hansel-style. The knowledge did not let me go to close my eyes leaving me even now to toss in bed, sleep eluding my fervent thoughts however much I wished it.

The silence brought about trepidation when I began thinking of things that had so far slipped my mind such as Ulfric Stormcloak's request to warn Whiterun of the incoming dragon attack. Who knew, perhaps it was even too late now? Regardless I needed to head to Whiterun, the Jarl would need to be warned of the dragon threat if he didn't know about it already although he guessed that would be changing quite soon even if he did nothing. Tomorrow, I decided. Tomorrow would be the day when I would set out, I couldn't wait any longer. Innocent people's lives depended on him carrying along the message!

Outside the shadows shifted in a dance as human-sized shadows passed by the tavern among the pale orange light. Why were people passing by the tavern in the middle of night armed with orange torchlight when candlelight was yellow? Was that a 'clang'? I hurriedly jumped onto my feet and started dressing, silently thanking my ADHD for keeping me in shape for battle when the first screams sounded.

"Huh? What is that noise?" Camilla hummed, wiping her eyes in the darkness. There was no time to put on armour. I grabbed the Guardian's sword and shield and hurried to the door. "What's going on?"

"Stay inside!" I yelled as I kicked the locked door of the tavern open.

After three kicks, the locking mechanism broke and I hurried outside. One of the houses was alit in egregious flames, lighting up the silhouettes of the bandits that were attacking in the dead of the night with the notorious form of Yorug of Falkreath leading them from the front. Bodies of guards and bandits lay crumpled amidst the dirtied stone. It was carnage all around, at least forty men locked in battle of blood and determination, even numbers on either side with few villagers joining the battle at the present time.

I didn't think. I just acted on my instincts and dove into battle. I knocked out a tattooed bandit on my right and then kicked the gut of a bald faced savage with wasted teeth so hard that he ended up harking bile in the middle of battle. I raised my shield and deflected a blow from an axe that nearly hit my collar bone. Turning the shield, I deftly thrust the Draugr blade underneath. The young, beaded man was quick on the draw, raising his shield just in time for my sword to collide with hard wood when frost seeped out of the blade and started to encompass the opponents shield in ice. The guy in panic, ditched his rawhide shield and scampered off behind his comrades. I cursed my lack of waterpowers with which I could have ended this madness in mere seconds, instead forced to take care of the bandits the old fashioned way.

The next men I battled were wearier, dodging often and attacking at the same time. Then finally I used Luke's manoeuvre to strike at the hilt and get the horned bandit to drop his double-edged axe before I bashed his face with the butt of my shield, scoring a clean knock-out. The other bandit got occupied with a guard that had just arrived at my side. The villagers were finally starting to come to the defence of their homes, Alvor sticking out to him where he could be spotted in the midst of battle, wearing good steel armour and bashing heads in with the hammer part of a giant warhammer. I was never more thankful of having him on my side.

A familiar scream rent the air freezing. Yorug of Falkreath had broken away from the group with two others and they had just entered the tavern. I saw red. I blindly rushed back into the building, narrowly stopping a club bash to my shoulder with my shield. I quickly kicked out the bandits left knee joint and sucker punched him in the face. Two to go.

"No! Please, No!"

Yorug of Falkreath had just grabbed Camilla by her braid. I swiftly bashed the second bandit from behind, leaving a trail of blood to drip behind my footsteps. One more to go. Yorug had heard the commotion and he turned around, his beady eyes finding me easily enough through that cow skull of his.

"You? Ah! So this must be the local girl?" he raised his axe to her throat. My approach did not halt. "I wouldn't do that if I were –"

Yorug never finished the sentence. He never started another one either. I sheathed my Guardian sword deep inside of Yorug's chest. His body fell onto the wooden plank floor, his crimson blood weeping through tiny cracks to connect with that of Mother Gaea. Camilla fiercely hugged me, crying all over my tunic. I rubbed her back as I looked at Yorug's wide-open eyes. I didn't sleep that entire night.

Now, more than ever, Riverwood needed reinforcements. Seven guards had perished under the pale moon, sixteen bandits joining them in the afterlife. The rest were taken prisoner, now residing in the jail of Riverwood that was built exactly for situations such as these but even then it was over-filled. They needed proper reinforcements from the capital as well. I had kissed Camilla goodbye and said my farewells with Gerdur and Hod, promising that I would be home as soon as time would permit me to be. Lucan proved to be amenable to providing vital supplies along with a tent that I would need for the journey ahead.

The day after my return, I finally set off. I had everything I needed and had helped in the jail and with the burnt house as best I could without the use of my powers. Now it was time to depart onto a new adventure. A new start. The empty holes in Yorug's cow skull watched me leave, stuck immobile on a spike just off the wooden wall. I knew that more would join it before my journey was over. Such was fate's will.

Generally when I was awoken in the middle of the night after an entire day spent in seamless travel by a dark skinned alien covered in wolf pelts substituting for a cloak, wielding a dagger and having blood-red eyes, I... "It's too early in the morning," I complained before rolling over away from my guest and pretending to go back to sleep. Child-like, I know but it was too early in the morning to deal with trouble especially considering the excitement from last night. I am a growing boy; I need my sleep.

"Psst... Psst... wake up! Wolves. Hungry wolves. Right outside."

"Go away," I gestured outside, while I got comfier in the cosy blankets.

"To the wolves? Are you mad?!" the unnamed individual demanded incredulously, as if he couldn't believe that someone could achieve this level of stupidity.

I snuggled in, "Five more minutes."

Sweat started forming on my brows. I frowned. It was getting hot in here. I opened my eyes with some effort. Great – the alien was setting my tent on fire. Never thought that magicians would have the gull burn us muggles alive in our own homes while we slept. "Oi fine, alright, just stop! But you are sleeping on the floor!" I groaned as I stumbled out of the tent, iron sword in hand.

Giving a big, wide-open yawn, I heard more than saw the three angry canines stalking around the camp with another one off to the side tensed up to spring. It barred its vicious teeth as it prepared to take a delicious bite of human flesh. It spread its paws, sprang right at me and prepared to land right on top of my chest, its jaws angling towards my neck. Bright, red blood flowed down onto the hard ground, a corpse following right along, a slab of ancient Nordic material speared through its brain.

The remaining pack reared at the fall of their comrade. Vicious spikes, that people call fangs, were shown to the killer of one of their pack. One of them howled in distraction while without warning another of the circling members leapt at my back in conjunction with yet another wolf that tried to distract me by jumping my front. Two more corpses joined the first one on the ground. Freezing frost slowly spread among them, preserving their bodies for a future meal or two. Bleak falls barrow had been so worth it for the Draugr sword alone. The remaining wolf whimpered before scrambling off into the dense foliage and the occasional tree of the mountain pass, the warm current passing by the only reason why the place wasn't at temperatures below that of the deep freezer.

The alien – elf, whatever – from before stood at the entrance of the tent with his mouth agape. Truly, that had been nothing. A wolf had absolutely nothing on a hell hound... and I killed hell hounds in my sleep, once even literally (a story involving a drink, a prank from the Strolls gone wrong, sleep walking in the forest and mostly pure luck). Yeah hell hounds were a walk in the park, expect for Mrs. O'Leary and that was because she was the sweetest hell hound that there ever was, not daring to hurt a fly without his permission.

"Go to sleep," I muttered sleepily in the elf's direction as I entered the slightly crisp tent that stunk of ozone to such a degree that it reminded one of Thaila and her dick of a father, Zeus. I lay down and tucked myself into the fluffy blankets where I submerged back into a cocoon of cosiness in my undisturbed state of hibernation.

The next morning I awoke well-rested. During the night, it seemed as though a strong breeze had decided to pick up in the area as hundreds of leaves had pelted the cloth, resulting in a sort of natural camouflage. All sorts of twigs and twisted grass blades littered the area making it a lot harder to navigate without making a sound. It was like Artemis had blessed the area overnight to provide me with the most cover during my sleep but of course Artemis wasn't here. If Zeus and the Big Three couldn't get here then how could she? The dark elf from yesterday was cooking breakfast under an open flame. A skinned wolf butchered into edible bits gently rolling over the warm embers, created with magical fire no doubt.

"What's cooking?" I asked, sitting down next to the flames that warmed the permafrost from my hands.

The elf looked up, "Do they not teach etiquette from where you are from? Usually a person says good morning in the morning."

"Well it is an unusual morning," I shrugged.

"It is only unusual because you make it so," the elf replied just as he twisted one of the legs over the embers.

"Alright." What a weird elf. My mind worked over-time for a conversation starter, or as hard as it could while the stomach lay empty of sustenance. I still did not know how the elf had got here considering his fire-wielding capabilities. "So how does a mage get chased by wolves right to my front porch? I thought you could control fire or what-not?"

The elf snorted with his lips pulling behind his teeth. He seemed... amused? "I wasn't running from the wolves, Nord."

He scoffed at the bright morning mood spoiling his own. "I am no Nord, more of an Imperial really. What were you running from if not the wolves? The guards?"

Again with the damned lip lifting. "Guards? Ha! Sheep in wolves clothing more like. No, no, no. If it had been the guards then I would have ended them all with a single flick of my hand! No, something much worse than guards and wolves," he leant in, as though he was telling me a secret, "Assassins!"

I made a show of looking him up and down. "Well, I would see why someone would send assassins after you."

The elf scowled, "Very amusing Imperial. If you need to know I am Drelas De La Pourge, the third son of the Dunmer house of Pourge –"

"Dunmer?"

"Dark elves. How do you not know that?"

"Well let's just say that I live very far away from here."

"Very well," Drelas raised an eyebrow but continued on, "Our family used to be a highly respected one in Southern Morrowind. We owned an estate and were pretty well-off in terms of economical investiture. Then when the accursed Red Year struck home and the Red Mountain decided to explode and bury thousands if not more under the weight of its explosion, the Argonians decided to come and 'help' by conquering Morrowind. They managed to invade all of our southern territories and terrorized the entire populace before our armies led by House Redoran held them back. Our family escaped to the new capital of Blacklight which also became the new home of House Redoran due to them becoming the head of the ruling council after the war ended." Drelas the Dunmer stopped his tale in order to twirl the wolf meat again.

"Well that was... interesting?" he said, not being able to find a synonym for boring while beset by a hungry stomach.

"Imperial, I am only trying to make conversation. I have been stuck in a wooden hut in the middle of nowhere for months now and we could remain silent for the rest of the time this wolf takes to become edible to the mouth."

"Well that wouldn't actually be all that bad. Silence seems to be an expensive commodity around here." I scratched my head before remembering something about an invasion, "Why did the Argonians attack?"

"You are definitely not from around here. They sensed the opportunity in the air – finally, a chance to pay back the Dunmer for enslaving them over the centuries."

"You were slave traders?" he asked, utter disdain flashing past his face.

"Are, not were, but yes, the finest traders in all of Tamriel!"

"That's sick."

"Dunmer are called 'Dark Elves' for a reason."

"I just thought you were called that because you are literally 'Dark'."

"Humph, Imperials," Drelas snorted to the first rays of the sun – or whatever the star orbiting Nirn was – as it started rising above the tree line.

"So you came to Blacklight. Then what?" I asked when the conversation came to another halt.

"Naturally, the head of our family thought it was impudent due to safety concerns to flee Morrowind. Normally that decision would be considered cowardice but the situation was unprecedented. Argonians at our doors down south, nearly a third of the country destroyed, our estates seized and not to mention that Morrowind had become much less habitable and in some areas it was hard to even breathe due to the poisonous air. So we, like many other refugees, fled to Skyrim along the Dunmeth pass. A road – the only road at that – that directly connects the two. I think the meat is cooked," Drelas loaded our food onto two rudimentary plates which seemed to already contain some type of what I assumed to be eatable greenery.

"Looks good to eat," I said.

"Yes but it must cool first. Anyways, back onto the tale. We settled in Riften and have lived there ever since. We have a large three-floored lodging right in the middle of the city. Our family owes the local stables and are the representatives of the East Empire Company in South-Eastern Skyrim. One day, I got this really bright idea to become a mage at the College of Winterhold, one of the only schools of magic on Tamriel and the only one in Skyrim. I travelled up there and... got accepted," his eyes glazed over and trailed with the fluffy clouds sailing past us. "It was... fascinating. The magic involved, the astounding knowledge gained, the mysteries presented with – everything was so intriguing and delightful. However, after almost two years of study, an... incident occurred. Someone had broken into the archmaester's chambers – perhaps as a prank as we first assumed – and I was blamed. It turned out there was a theft involved, some snivelling fool had laid the evidence in my dorm and I was kicked out of the College. I headed south to Cyrodill, the capital province of The Empire, to hopefully be able to join the mages guild there. Unfortunately, it seems that a member of the College, perhaps even the original culprit, ordered a hit on me with the Dark Brotherhood so I wouldn't be able to prove my innocence. I holed up in a small cottage south of Morthal for a couple of paranoid months and practised my magics in secret. Then I decided to make a break for it thinking that the coast was clear and barely escaped with my life from Whiterun and here I am. I have only stopped running when I noticed that it was the wolves following me and not the assassin. That is the abridged story of my life. You do not have to say your own, I am sure it is beneath my notice, or that of any other Dunmer."

I hoped that not all Dunmer were such jerks but I mulled over the story anyways. I needed to ask for a few clarifications. "So there's an assassin after your head?"

"Indeed," Drelas replied with a face carved of stone.

"And you managed to run, non-stop, all the way from Whiterun to here; in the middle of the night with first the assassin giving chase and then the wolves?"

"Yes."

"Huh, that's pretty impressive. Talk about stamina. Why don't you just go to your family and tell them about the false accusation? Couldn't you hire an assassin to take care of the other assassin?" I asked.

"My family would expect for me to find the culprit and execute them myself. Something that I am in no position to do," Drelas replied.

"Oh... tough family."

The Dark Elf cracked a grin for the first time since we had met, "That it is most certainly."

My stomach was silently grumbling for sustenance. "What's for breakfast?" I mumbled.

An irritated Drelas gave me a plate loaded up with blood soaked meat. "Are all imperials idiots? Wolf of course! What did you think was going to be for breakfast?"

The sarcastic reply died on my lips when I was handed what was essentially a cooked mesh of blood and bone soaked in wine. Seeing my hesitance, Drelas bit into the flesh, "Don't like, don't eat."

I was hungry… but not that hungry. Drelas meanwhile soaked up the blood with fervour. "Are you sure that you are not a vampire?"

Drelas smiled really wide, showing off his yellowing museum of decomposed calcium products. I decided not to clarify. When Drelas was done with his plate and in a better mood, he asked, "Not to be controversial, but I have not talked to a living soul for months. Who are you that you don't know the land which you travel?"

I thought about how best to answer him. "Do you believe in the gods?"

Drelas suddenly looked at me warily, "You are not a Daedric Prince are you?"

"No. What is a Daedric Prince?"

"Daedras are a supernatural and immortal race of entities that inhibit the planes of Oblivion, an infinite or near-infinite number of planes, each ruled by a Daedric Prince – which are super powerful Daedra. Down here on Tamriel, we are only aware of 16 of them. Direct interactions between the plane of Nirn and the planes of Oblivion are nearly impossible expect for the Oblivion Gates but those have been destroyed and shouldn't reappear again. They can; however, interact with us and as Daedric Princes are shape-shifters, they can be almost anyone though their form on Nirn can be killed. Normal Daedra can only be summoned for short amounts of time by skilled conjurers which are usually used to help in battles because after either their death or there is no more energy that they can extract from their source their souls go back to Oblivion."

"Whoa Drelas, that's a lot to take in. I am definitely not one of those. This world is more messed than mine is, mythologically speaking."

"Your world?" Drelas asked curiously as he chewed on some foreign flower.

"You could say that it's from another plane that I came from but I am no Daedra."

We sat in silence for a while, Drelas munching on meat while I just sat there expecting Zeus to blow me into tiny Percy bits for telling a mortal the secret. Surprisingly, I felt lighter getting some of the stuff off of my chest. It seems that there were far crazier things here than aliens that suddenly appeared from other worlds. Hell they had trolls, dragons, giant spiders, giant everything and an infinite number of unkillable aliens floating in outer space. I don't think that I would be judged too harshly if I just told everyone who I was. Probably the people around the campfire would just go, 'Meh, nothing new' and go on with their daily lives. I could get used to this.

"So what are you then?" Drelas finally asked, his own curiosity matching his own from earlier.

"A demigod; half human, half god."

"A demigod? Who is your godly donor then?" Drelas did not sound surprised, grudging respect filling his voice.

"My father is the god of the seas, earthquakes and horses from where I come from. I can control water and cause earthquakes and sometimes I can even mildly change the weather. I can also speak with horses and fishes if that is worth anything to ya."

Drelas's eyes widened, "That's astounding! Could you demonstrate for me?"

"I cannot. Apparently, they have been locked for now and will need to be 'activated' by an unknown method that I seek to find out."

"Pity," and it sounded like Drelas was honesty disappointed.

The morning air was pleasant. The sunrise nearly complete. Various birds were flying over the treetops. Pounding sounds from a nearby waterfall could be heard. It was a perfect morning. "We will get there when we get there. Thanks for the history lesson, I needed that. Let's pack up and head for Whiterun. You're with me, right?"

"Well demigod genius, there is an assassin at Whiterun trying to get my hide. What do you think?"

"You know that the assassin would not expect for you to return back to the place of attempted murder and would have probably already passed us?"

"Then why didn't he find us?" Drelas argued.

"Maybe because it was pitch dark outside and our tent was covered with leaves?"

Drelas stopped and inspected the tent, "What about the bodies of the wolves? It left a scent that a skilled assassin could track."

"Not every assassin has a sharp nose such as yours."

Drelas still hesitated, "We'd still be going into a major city while I have a contract on my head. That is not wise."

I began packing up the tent, "Well I'm leaving. Either stay here alone, likely not to meet another soul for a couple more months, or go with me, a demigod, to clear your noble name. It's up to you to choose."

Drelas stood with his charcoal hands on his hips and his tongue in-between his sharpened teeth while I finished packing the tent up and setting everything in my backpack. I stepped up to the Dunmer, "You in?"

He took a step backwards, then a step forwards. Then he stopped probably realising that he was being foolish. Drelas raised his hand, alight with a fireball, and burned the remaining wolf, "That answer your question?"

"Welcome aboard the Percy Express. We hope you enjoy your stay."

Drelas moaned, "I will reconsider my decision if all of your jokes are as stale as your appearance."

"You think that your wolf skins are as original as your beard?"

"At least I have a beard demigod and don't insult the wolf pelt. It was for a festival."

"And here I thought you were on the run. Drelas, Drelas, Drelas –"

"I was on the run," the dark elf interrupted me, "But there was a celebration in Whiterun as I was passing through and I needed to blend in. A blue streaked star was sighted passing the sky on the 18th of Last Seed. The elders proclaimed it as a sign from the heavens. I wanted to fit in and the traditional dance around the bonfire had everyone dressed in animal furs. Next thing I know, there is someone in dark clothing trying to slit my throat. So I fled with the clothes on my back. The rest you know."

A blue star on the 18th of Last Seed… I was starting to get a bad feeling about this. "Did you say that the star was blue?"

"Yes... let me guess. It had something to do with you?"

"Probably," I shrugged. This was too big to be a coincidence for a prophecy not to be involved.

"Say Drelas, what month is Last Seed and how many months are there to begin with?"

Drelas raised an eyebrow as if he didn't even want to know why he was being asked that question yet he still inadvertently nailed the nail into the coffin. "The eighth month in the calendar. There are twelve months, three-hundred and sixty-five days to a year."

The 18th of August. I came here on the 18th of August. Oh this was not good. I travelled here on my birthday, my sixteenth birthday to be more precise, right after Kronus's defeat. Helgen had happened on my birthday. My hands were shaking. The Olympians had mentioned a second time, a prophecy and the number sixteen. I was sixteen. I stepped away from Drelas to catch my breath.

"Is everything alright Imperial?" Drelas asked hesitantly.

I grabbed the moleskin from him and took a swig of water until it scalded down my iced chest piece. "Yeah, everything is just fine… call me Percy."

We were soon on our way downhill through the fields of wild plants and the occasional clumps of spruce and pine trees that jotted into the sky, a dirt road with cart tracks embedded into it was the only thing that hinted that humans even traversed these areas. Drelas wisely kept his mouth shut and we discussed the comet no more. Along the side of the road, a river flowed downstream from the mountain range that we were retreating from. Its clear waters and just the sight of it alone brought me into a much better mood. I even thought about jumping in before I remembered that I would probably drown or be killed in the rapids. A very bizarre thought as I had a deep fondness for water and all of its inhabitants.

"Percy?" Drelas's hesitant tone brought me to catch his eye. "Come. You can see Whiterun from here. Have a look!"

I stepped in-between the cover of the overarching trees. In the distance, a city gleamed under the rays of the sun. A sturdy uneven wall surrounded it in a protective layer. Inside, old Nordic houses were scrambled across the landscape in the hundreds, all with either thatched or scaled roofs painted a dull orange. A sewer ran out of the city proper through a small, barred part of the wall. Farms and farmlands surrounded the city from the outside as well as a small market not far from the gates, set up on the connecting road travelling right next to Whiterun.

The most notable and impressive part of the city was the castle in which the Jarl supposedly resided in. It was probably over a hundred feet tall and two-hundred feet in length, sitting atop a hill made almost entirely of rock. Stairs were the only way to get to the steel hardened gates awaiting any attacker at the top. As far as I could see, Whiterun was extremely defensible. Everything was designed to cause the maximum amount of damage to an attacking army.

An attacker would need to get through a set of gates, through a draw-bridge, through another set of huge steel gates, through the entire city, climb a set of steps that got narrower as they went up all the way up to the castle and then break through another set of steel doors there before even getting into the castle proper. Not to mention that there would be archers raining down arrows literally everywhere and that there were catapults mounted on the walls that would decimate any attacking force. Whiterun was one formidable settlement fit to withstand even a possible dragon attack.

"We have company."

I looked up. It seemed there was a patrol of imperial soldiers – about a dozen in total – walking right in our direction, with a couple of prisoners tied up and dragged by the horses that the Imperial soldiers sat atop of. Warily, the two groups passed each other. I was reminded of how I was nearly executed at Helgen, "I don't like this, we need to free them"

Drelas looked at me and shook his head, "We are outnumbered and besides it's likely that they are just common rabble being escorted home after paying a bribe"

"Yargh!" One of the prisoners hit an Imperial soldier in the face and it seemed that the prisoners wanted very much to escape their captors based on their hurried motions and fleeting faces.

"Somehow I doubt that," I found myself saying as the prisoner responsible was knocked out cold.

I could free them – it was possible but with the catch that someone was going to die. Perhaps they were just being brought to another jail afterall. In silence, we continued to walk until we were long past the patrol and had reached the foot of the mountain range, where the river from before crashed and splashed and flowed under the bridges of a crossroad. We continued on the path to Whiterun, going past a brewery and in the direction of the gates. Dense greenery filled everything aside from the road for miles around us. I wondered if this is what earth had looked like back in the medieval ages. It was beautiful.

"Hey! What in the Divines name are GIANTS doing at that farm?!" Drelas shrieked.

Another beautiful day spoiled. From what he could see they called giants here were basically thin Cyclops equipped out with clubs. I could handle that but seriously? Just when the day was starting to look up as well... What caused more alarm were the three people fighting the creature. I needed to hurry to save the day from becoming a disaster with a human death on my head after avoiding the fight with the imperial patrol.

"Let's go help!" I yelled and broke out into a sprint. With ease, I vaulted over the fence standing in my way and continued on, the footsteps behind indicated that Drelas was following me. As we were nearing, two of the giants broke and started routing from battle leaving the third behind in their wake.

The three humans were fighting valiantly. The brunette was striking quick, disabling blows with her dual swords; the tall, muscular man brought the attention on himself with his giant form (no pun intended) and the great sword nestled in his hands; while arrows were shot by a badass ginger covered in war paint and revealing armour. Suddenly, the giant glanced off the two fighters beside himself and dashed for the archer. He raised his club... and got skewered by a rather pointy Draugr longsword. The giant howled in rage before the woman behind me loosened an arrow that sailed through the giant's head like butter and fragmented the creatures skull. The next thing I knew, the giant was falling head-first right on top of me.

I managed to leap out of the way just in time to avoid my head and neck getting crushed into a messed up pile of blood, bones and brain matter under the massive body of the Cyclops hybrid; however, the rest of my body remained stuck under the dead creature. The armour was utterly crushed, making it hard to breath or even move. The archer whose life I had probably saved, approached and gave me a cute smile – or the cutest smile a warrior woman with war make-up and a huge war bow with long, piercing war arrows on her back can give you without looking like she was considering if you would make for decent prey. "Names Aela, warrior. You would make for a decent Shield-Brother."

I felt a faint. Whether it was because of a giant falling on top of me, blood rushing down south or how I imagined Camilla's or Annabeth's expression to be if they saw this scene, I didn't know. I just hoped that the latter scenario never happened. Ever. The warriors and Drelas crowded around me as they tried to pull off the giant. "One, two, three! Pull!"

Apparently monsters here just didn't dissolve into convenient golden dust like back at home. Here they died... forever. The lifeless corpse twisted with its dead eyes staring at me, only inches away from my face. The stench was unbearable. Did these giants bathe in pools of mucus while using goats as sponges?

"Pull!" A glob of giant spit landed on my face. I would've yelled but was too afraid to open my mouth lest any of the glob flow down my own throat. I still remembered Regan very well, and nobody had yet to tell me that giant's spit wasn't poisonous.

"Pull!" Finally, the body of the giant was moved and I took in a couple of deep, hurried breaths and smelled the fresh, crisp air of the countryside. Talk about carrying the weight of the world.

"Well look who took a walk in the park," said not the most pleasant of voices.

"I am also happy to see you Drelas," I drawled while the world spun round and round albeit slowly and with a bit of a tilt.

Murmurs sounded somewhere in the distance. They were arguing about something and like always I – the amazing Kelp-head one-man act – had managed to completely tune out of it. It seemed that the fated Zeus-cursed day had come at last. I officially missed Thaila. I tried to focus on the conversation, managing to catch on after my ears stopped ringing, "– of course he's not fine. Just look at his dented armour! We need to take him over to Jorrvaskr," Aela appeared to argue with Drelas.

I blushed. Then I tried to hit myself on the head and failed. Why couldn't I settle on just one girl instead of being led around by hot, sexy vixens? There must be something wrong with me.

"I agree. That looked like it hurt," said the mountain of a man with the great sword swaying dangerously across his back.

"You think?" Drelas rolled his eyes.

"You need not be so aggressive. It is not like you did anything yourself anyways elf," the man replied.

"I didn't do anything?!"

"Well yes, that's exactly what I said."

Drelas silently fumed as he gave me his arm to pull me upright. Tenderly, I reached out and held onto the offered limb as I tried to bring myself up. My unsteady feet deprived of oxygen, sent me crashing down into the closest person amongst a batch of cabbages. Right atop of Aela. Right onto her chest. Oh I was sooo screwed.

"See, you can't even hold your friend properly!" the mountain continued off as if they hadn't even stopped.

"Why you! I held Percy perfectly fine. I will have you kn –"

I sighed into Aela's chest. Here we go again. At least the third companion with the dual blades seemed to be enjoying the verbal thrashing that the two were giving each other.

"You have terrible balance," Aela snorted, addressing him while ignoring the others as they ignored them.

"I'm usually better. You know, when I don't get stuck under the bodies of giants saving damsels in distress."

"Oh yes? Well then you will just have to show this distressed damsel someday just how balanced you are," she said.

Did I mention that I was screwed? Yeah, I think I did. S-C-R-E-W-E-D. "I'll think about it," I muttered as I tried to pull myself up with my elbows, unsuccessfully bringing myself to crashing against her once more.

"What? Right now? Isn't that a little fast?" she asked innocently with doe-like eyes.

"No, no. I have a wife," said no womaniser ever.

"You're married?" Aela seemed to lose the glean in her eye.

"Well not yet, but soon," I added, just in case she was getting any thoughts.

"Well you're single now and after you get married you won't get to enjoy the single life anymore," she winked suggestively, "I can-"

"Percy am I in the right here?!" interrupted Drelas before Aela could finish her sentence.

I could kiss Drelas right now. "Yes, Yes. You are right!"

"See," Drelas gestured at me.

The mountain looked unconvinced. "He just had a giant fall on top of him. He's delusional!"

Aela pouted as I tried to pull myself away from her, "Don't go. You're comfy… Percy."

"We have laid here long enough!" Not to mention that I would go crazy if I stared into those amber eyes for any longer.

I tried to roll off before she grabbed me by the arm with an iron grip and smiled, "Going somewhere?"

I leaned into her ear, "I don't like you"

Her smile turned into a smirk, "Somehow I find that hard to believe in."

"And why is that?"

"Because you have been staring at my chest when you think that I am not looking."

I flushed red, "Not true!"

She just gave me a knowing smirk that infatuated me. Two could play that game. I leaned in close, right next to her lips. I closed my eyes and as soon as her grip slacked, I immediately jumped up with newfound strength and made a hobbling dash towards Drelas. Aela for her part gave me an annoyed look before she picked herself up from the cabbage patch. I couldn't help myself but watch as she teased me by lifting up her armour by her upper curves to make it fit nice and tight while also showing off her toned stomach.

It was definitely time for them to leave. "Drelas!"

"Hmm?" the Dunmer replied; eyebrows furrowed on why I stopped him while he was trying to teach a Nord some manners.

"We need to go. We have a date with a Jarl."

"We do?" Drelas seemed truly flabbergasted while Aela was giving him an intrigued look.

He turned his back to her and whispered, "Yes we do or would you rather that I explain to the highest authority of the land that we were late because of you?"

"Well alright then. I didn't know demigods were that important. Fine, lead the way then – and you," Drelas turned to the mountain of a man, pointing an accusing finger into the chest piece, "We will have this discussion another time!"

"Suit yourself, elf meat."

I could see that Drelas was biting back some choice words before I took him by the shoulder and started dragging him to the gates of Whiterun.

"Don't forget to come by and collect your 'reward' after that date of yours demigod! I will be interested in how it ends," Aela shouted with mirth at our retreating backs.

"Aela, are you seriously insinuating that –"

The mountain gave a muffled yell as Aela punched him in the guts so hard that he doubled-over. "Am I seriously insinuating what?"

I seemed to have forgotten that although Aela was an attractive female, she was also a tough badass that ended giants for lunch. I needed to get my life priorities straight here. Having fun with someone else might break Camilla's heart if she did not want to share. However, not breaking Camilla's heart could very well get my heart broken – in the most literal sense possible.

We finally walked out of sight of our fellow giant-slayers, passing by the stables to enter Whiterun's outer palisade. Squads of soldiers littered the battlements while a detached group of guards that stood at the entrance checked over carts from a recently arrived merchant caravan. Walking past the first gate, we went around in a 'U' and crossed over the bridge that covered up a ditch with a small, controlled water stream that could fill up the entire thing with water in a matter of minutes during a siege. At last, we entered the final courtyard before the city proper.

A guard from the main gates hailed us, "The city has been closed due to dragon sightings. Official business only."

"We are here to inform the Jarl of those very same dragon sightings in Riverwood," I informed the guard.

"Dragons in Riverwood? The Jarl will want to hear of this. All right, come on in. Get to the Jarl as fast as possible, he resides in Dragonsreach, the highest structure in Whiterun," said the guard before opening the gates and allowing us passage into the city proper.

It was as if we were entering an entirely different world. The clang of the blacksmith's hammer rang clearly throughout the district as did the chirps of birds and the soft mumbles of muted conversation slowly seeping in from the city's marketplace. Bright banners stood firm alongside the road showcasing a motif of a golden stallion against a white background – the symbol of Whiterun. We went on throughout what Drelas had termed the Plain District, meeting many of the natives that hurried about their everyday lives whether it was buying and selling at the marketplace, drinking at the inns or making conversation with friends and foes alike.

The cobbled path led towards the stairs separating the city into its three-tiers, fairly short in height at least on the first level. Drainage flew along the cobbled staircase with flowers planted alongside to mask the smell. At the top to the entrance of the second district that being the Wind District, stood an old tree bearing resemblance to ancient oaks that one could find in the forests of Native American reservations. Its hundreds of dried branches hung over the centre of the circular pathway with the path circling around it lest it intrude upon this ancient being which might have been here before the city was even founded.

On the left there were even more houses but on the right there stood a majestic statue of a winged-helmed man with a sword piercing through a giant snake. The statue was a one to one copy of the one that he and Faendal had found at the massacre. If Talos worship was so prohibited in Skyrim then why would a full-size statue of him be standing in such a public place in a large city? Was it defiance? Or was it so worshippers could be easier to target and identify?

Apparently since we had a date that we could be late to, Drelas didn't appreciate me slowing down and admiring or even observing every detail of my surroundings. Instead he pulled me along to the literal stairway to heaven judging by the sheer number of steps needed to be taken to ascend to the Cloud District, the residence place of the Jarl and the highest point in Whiterun. The wide doors of Dragonsreach were a relief to see after my taxing journey after which I could do with a good nap sans the Curse of Achilles.

This was it. It was my time to colossally fuck up the plans of every deity this side of Nirn. I grinned. The trees shook in fright even in the absence of wind. If Luke could take down Kronus with a dagger then how hard could this prove to be?