Thunder Shroud Chapter 2

Edited by: Priapus, Marethyu

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I don’t know how long I’ve been walking. More than an hour likely, and the weather hasn’t gotten any better even though I’m pretty sure I’m already out of Eastmarch. Is it Winter or something? No, I would’ve died already if it was.

The mere idea that Skyrim is this fucking cold all year long makes me feel miserable. I can’t handle this, Raiju's weakness or not. How can Nords even tolerate this? How cold would it even be in Winter?

I sigh, rubbing my arms in an attempt to warm myself up as I walk on the cold stone path leading to what I hope is Whiterun. I haven’t run into anyone or anything so far. Not even a sign telling me where I am and where I’m going.

If it really was necessary to put me in Skyrim, then why couldn’t I start in Whiterun or Riften? Why Eastmarch? In a prison, of all places? Is this Sheogorath’s doing? Is this his idea of fun? Because to me, this isn’t fun. At all.

As a few more minutes stretch into what feels like days of walking, I suddenly feel every hair on my body standing up, making me flinch and look around. I quickly calm myself to stop panicking and focus on my sense of hearing. I can hear something approaching, and from this gut feeling, it’s not nice. 

Is this what Danger Sense feels like?

I quickly identify the direction of whatever this thing is coming from, prompting me to slowly back away from it. It doesn’t take long for me to hear a growl as a big fuck-off brown bear comes out of the bushes with a ferocious snarl, prompting me to flinch.

Of course, it’s a fucking bear. Holy shit, it’s massive. What the fuck.

I’m so sorry, Uncle Sheo. Please forgive me.

I try not to make eye contact so as not to aggravate it, keeping it in my field of vision while looking down. My grip over the hatchet tightens as I prepare for a probable fight and my possible gory demise.

I have to calm down. I’m no Nord or an orc that can cleave it in two with a swing, but in theory, I should be more than strong enough to defend myself with my Lightning Manipulation. I’m not exactly sure how to use it fully, but I know it’s there. If I can shock and stun it for a few seconds, I can kill it. Or so I hope.

Uh, Game? System? 

Yes?

A little help?

Of course.

Your lightning powers aren’t magic, not entirely. It’s closer to a muscle, like raising an arm. Try to think about doing it, and it should respond.

Focus. Do not panic. As intimidating as this might be, a bear isn’t as big of a threat as you might think. Your chances of survival are high.

At least one of us believes in me.

The bear still keeps its distance, but for some reason, I have the feeling that it won’t let me pass. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. I’d rather not fight it, but I still want to go to Whiterun, and I don’t think I have enough supplies to last me the journey. I need its meat to eat on the way and the fur to sell when I hopefully get there before nightfall.

How am I gonna skin it? I don’t know. I’ll figure that out later.

Fuck it. I don’t have any options.

I slowly extend my arm towards it but make no sudden movement. It roars in response, trying to intimidate me, and while it’s working, I don’t make any other move. I try to channel my lightning into my arm, and I’m instinctively able to do it. 

It feels like something I’ve been doing my whole life.

Purple sparks dance around my arm, making the bear realize I’m not leaving. It makes one final loud roar before it rushes towards me. As terrifying as seeing a gigantic bear run towards you at what feels like Mach speed, I manage to stay relatively calm just for a moment.

A moment proves long enough to unleash the charged blast of electricity gathering in the palm of my hand. The bolt hits it square in the face, and while I don’t know how much voltage it had, it’s enough to make the bear lose its footing and stumble on the ground, spasming violently.

I’m in awe at the sheer power of that blast, but I quickly try to charge another one. However, it recovers far faster than I expected, quickly charging again with an angry snarl. This time it’s able to stop me from firing it, forcing me to roll out of the way of its pounce, falling on my back as I lose control of myself.

I try to get back up on my feet, but it gets on top of me, my hatchet slipping out of my hand as it traps me in place. It tries to bite my head off, but I’m able to stop and push it away with both hands. My survival instincts kick in, prompting me to use my lightning powers to electrocute it, my entire body radiating intense purple sparks.

Even as the lightning scorches its body and causes it to convulse, it powers through, relentlessly pushing its jaws toward my neck. I feel my strength fading rapidly. Gritting my teeth and shutting my eyes as it gets closer, I use everything I can to hold it at bay while shocking it. 

Just as I feel my arms about to give out and feel its hot breath on my throat, I hear a whistle, and an arrow impales itself in the bear’s neck.

The bear roars in pain and this moment of surprise prompts it to abandon its attempts to bite me. I use this chance to grab the hatchet, which is lying near me, and I lodge it on the other side of its neck as hard as I can.

Seconds later, the bear loses all its strength, prompting me to kick it off. I look at its dying state whilst breathing heavily, my heart pounding in my chest as I try to calm myself down. My hands are shaking uncontrollably; I almost can’t believe that I’m still alive.

I can’t stop the relieved chuckle from escaping me. 

Fuck me, that was close.

“Are you alright, Traveler?” A voice interrupts my thoughts, prompting me to look up. “Must’ve been scared out of your wits, eh?”

It’s a pale, blond Nord man wearing armor, a bow and shield strapped on his back, and a steel axe on his hip. He looks young, a little older than I am, but from his defined muscles, I can tell that he’s pretty experienced. A hunter?

I assume he’s the one who helped me if the bow in his hand is any indication.

“You have no idea,” I respond, finally forcing my whole body to stop shivering. “Thanks a lot, man.”

“Hah! Make no mention of it; a true Nord always helps those in need.” He says, extending his hand to me. “I’m Golldir.”

“Raiden.” I take his hand, prompting him to pull me up.

“Raiden?” He raises a brow. “A strange name. Er, no offense.”

“None taken.” I sigh. “My guardian had a weird naming sense.”

“Is that so? Well, Raiden, you’ve fought that big bastard like a warrior. I’m glad I was able to aid you on time.” He pats me on the shoulder, making me wince. “Ah, apologies. I did not realize you were injured.”

“It’s nothing serious.” I wave it off. “It’s just a little sore.”

“Underestimating your wounds could cause your death, my friend.” He says. “Come with me; I know a safe place where I can treat it for you.”

“I’m good, thanks.” I refuse his offer. “I just need directions for Whiterun.”

He looks at me with a raised brow. “You’re going to Whiterun in that state?”

“I can manage.”

“No, you’ll freeze to death. Or be mauled by another bear.” He scoffs. “Not even a Nord could make the journey dressed like that, and something tells me that you barely have supplies, if any.”

I have no counterargument to that and remain silent. 

“Heh, that’s what I thought.” He grins victoriously, making me frown. “Come, the camp is close by.”

With nothing else I can do, I follow him reluctantly.

Goddamn it.

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“Apologies, I don’t have any warmer clothes for you to wear,” Golldir says. “I’m sure you’re freezing in these rags.”

“You have no idea.” I stay close to the fire, feeling sweet warmth at last.

The walk lasted for about twenty minutes, and Golldir was pretty talkative. I expected racism, considering it’s Skyrim I’m in, but he seems fine with me. I told him the bare minimum about myself, twisting my story slightly to not seem like a lunatic.

I woke up in that ruined prison with half of my memories gone. I don’t know what brought me there or why. That is my story.

He believed it immediately and sympathized, saying how hard it must be to lose your memories. This is nice, but I’m honestly glad he bought it. Either the Silver Tongue perk helped, or being kidnapped by random magic assholes is common enough in Skyrim. Probably both.

The Nord’s camp isn’t what I expected. It has everything a camp would need — bedrolls, fire, and so on, but it is right in front of an entrance to a Nordic tomb. I comment about it, and he begins telling me a story as we eat.

It clicks as he tells the story of this being the grave of his ancestors and how a necromancer is using it as a hideout and to exploit their remains.

This was a quest in the game. I remember it clearly.

“You let your aunt go in there by herself?” I ask, making him flinch. “I’m not gonna fault you for it, but you could’ve hired some mercenaries to take this Vals person out.”

“Not many would be willing to go into an ancient Nordic tomb, my friend.” He says with a shake of his head, sitting opposite of me by the fire. “Only the bravest warriors, and those cost a fortune to hire.”

“Why not ask the Jarl, then?”

“With the civil war going on, Jarl Balgruuf and Jarl Ulfric have their hands tied.” He responds. “It would be difficult to spare even a handful of soldiers.”

Interesting. No mention of dragons. Either he doesn’t know about them, seeing where he is, or the events of the game haven’t started yet.

“I should’ve gone after her.” Golldir sighs solemnly. “But every time I open that door, my legs refuse to move. So much for a Nord. If my aunt sees me right now…”

“Take it easy, man,” I say. “If you did go after her, that bear would’ve killed me.”

“Heh. True.” He responds with a small smile.

A moment of silence lingers as I look at the fire, a part of me still unable to believe I’m in a game. It feels like I’m about to wake up any second and find myself back home, staring at the ceiling above my bed.

But this is my home now, isn’t it? You know, despite knowing how terrifying the world of The Elder Scrolls is, a part of me feels a tiny bit glad I’m out of that boring life on Earth. I don’t think many people can say they knew what it’s like to raid ancient tombs or fight literal dragons.

…To be honest, I think I’d rather go on dangerous adventures and constantly risk myself dying in a trap or to a Draugr than live my life as a wage slave trying to make ends meet until I eventually kill myself.

But I still ask myself: Why me? Why am I here? What’s my purpose? System, you said your creator chose me, right? 

Why did they choose me specifically? What’s so special about me?

I’m afraid I can’t answer that.

I run my hand through my hair with a frown at that response. Guess I’ll have to figure that out myself…

My train of thought is then stopped as Golldir speaks up again.

“I know this is too much to ask, Raiden.” He starts. “But can you help me? My aunt has been in there for god knows how long, and this necromancer needs to die.”

I grimace because I honestly want to refuse, but after he saved my life and helped treat my wounds, it’s a lot harder to say no to that. I’d feel like a dick.

“I’m not exactly a great fighter,” I say, hoping to discourage him at least. “Not sure how useful I’d be.”

“Keeping that giant bear at bay with your bare hands is a testament to your strength.” He says, countering my claim. “And with your magic, together we can put an end to Vals Veran.”

He’s persistent, but he makes a good point.

Clearing dungeons is a way of leveling up your classes.

I pause at the system’s interjection. Is it?

Indeed. This is a great opportunity, seeing that you have an ally in this scenario.

I guess that’s true. Right. Silver linings.

“Well, I guess I can try,” I say, hiding my displeasure. “When do we go?”

“Right now. If we’re quick enough, we can find my aunt.” He responds, grabbing his bag and standing up. “Thank you, my friend. I will ensure you are handsomely rewarded after we end that miserable elf.”

I grab my hatchet and backpack, then follow him as he heads toward the door. After taking a deep breath, he opens it slowly.

“You’re no milk drinker, Golldir…” He mutters. “Do it for Aunt Agna.”

With that, he steps inside, and I quickly do the same, closing the metal door behind us quietly. He readies his shield and axe as we start walking on the freezing stone floor of the catacombs, the smell of death lingering in the air, making my Danger Sense flare up.

The only things lighting the place are Golldir’s lantern, the tiny candles in the halls, and the occasional lit torch by every doorway. I can’t see anything otherwise, and it creeps me out. The occasional skeletal remains and rotten, putrid corpses aren’t helping me calm down either.

I really don’t want to be here, man. Fuck.

I suddenly feel a faint tugging sensation, and a part of me knows that there’s something in the other room we just passed, but I ignore it and focus on following the nord. I don’t know what that was about, but I’m not splitting. Opening that door could be the end of me, and I’m not taking any chances.

I don’t know how long we’ve spent slowly walking, but eventually, I hear a ghoulish groan in the distance, making me crouch. Golldir sees that, and I gesture for him to do the same, pointing at the doorway in front of us. He nods and tightens his grip over the war axe, going in front of me to see what’s in there.

“Damned necromancer…” He mutters through gritted teeth. “Defiling the bodies of my ancestors…”

I peek to see what he’s seeing—a disgusting, decrepit corpse standing on its two feet with a rusted greatsword strapped on its back. The rotten smell is overpowering, but I manage to prevent myself from gagging and alerting it.

I tap on Golldir’s shoulder, getting his attention.

“I’ll sneak up behind it and kill it. We should avoid fighting.” I whisper quietly. “You have a dagger?”

He nods, silently taking it out of the strap on his hip and giving it to me. I put the hatchet down and slowly approach the Draugr without making a noise. Successfully sneaking up behind it, I aim where the heart could be and stab it in the back.

The undead groans and falls to the ground, completely limp.

I exhale as Golldir approaches me, giving me my hatchet back. “That was impressive.”

“Thanks.” I nod, giving him the dagger back. “Here.”

“Keep it.” He waves it off. “You are better at using it than I am.”

Not gonna say no to a backup weapon.

“If you say so.”

We continue through the corridors of the tomb, noticing more rotten corpses lying around the deeper we’re in. Golldir remarks that it must be his aunt who killed those ones, and from how many I’ve seen, this Agna must be strong as hell. 

I stop as I hear a faint noise, focusing on it as Golldir stops to look at me in confusion. He was about to ask what was going on, but I shushed him. I hear cries, growls, groans, and metal clashing. 

“I can hear fighting,” I say, making him flinch. 

“That must be my aunt!” He exclaims. “Let’s go before we’re too late!”

He sprints forward, and I follow him, ignoring my stinging shoulder. I see Golldir jump over a pressure plate, likely knowing where it is, and I do the same. As we keep running, Draugrs break through their coffins and ambush us, prompting the Nord to slow his advance and look at them with a scowl.

“Damn it!” He curses, backing away slowly. “Get out of our way!”

Lightning crackles around my body as four Draugr surround us. Two with greatswords, one with a war axe, and one with a spear. I calm myself down, and having an ally helps a lot in that regard. We’re outnumbered, but if a single person is able to mow down dozens of these things, then they shouldn’t be that tough.

Thinking quickly, I throw the hatchet at the one with the spear, the blade digging into its face before I rush in and kick it in the chest, putting it down. The first one with the greatsword swings at Golldir, who easily parries its strike before splitting its head with his axe.

One with a greatsword charges at me, about to cleave me in half, but I unleash a bolt that freezes it for a second, which is enough for me to stab it in the throat with my dagger, pushing it down on the ground. 

The final Draugr was about to end me from behind, but Golldir beheads it with one clean swing. Golldir and I nod to one another, prompting me to take my dagger and hatchet out before we continue our sprint toward the noises.

We finally enter the chamber where the sounds of fighting are coming from, seeing the ground littered with old broken furniture and food offerings, a big door to our left, and a severely injured woman in fur still on her feet holding a steel longsword with her right hand as her left arm bleeds, limply dangling as she fights back a single Draugr.

“Aunt Agna!” Golldir yells in horror at her state, getting her attention, as well as the Draugr’s. 

“Golldir!” She gives us a quick glance. “What are you doing here?!” 

“We’re here to help!” He responds, getting in a defensive stance, with me closely behind charging my electricity. 

I was just starting to question why she struggled against one Draugr when she had taken on more than ten of these undead beings, but then I realize this one is unique, causing me to flinch. It wears a horned helmet and brandishes a blade in significantly better condition than the others, along with a much more imposing stature. It stands at least a foot or two taller than the other Draugr, and its eyes glow even brighter.

Oh no.

“Ruth Volaan…” It growls angrily. “Dur Nahgahdinok…”

Oh no.

“Golldir! Get your aunt out of here, and let’s go!” I yell at him. “We can’t handle that one!”

“What are you talking about?!” He scowls at me. “The Necromancer is still inside!”

“Man, fuck that!” I return his aggression. “We can come back after we get help!”

“The stranger is right, Golldir!” His aunt agrees. “Run, get out of here. Inform Jarl Balgruuf about Vals and get help!”

“I’m not leaving you here, Aunty.” But he refuses. “I’d die before I abandon you again!”

With that, the fool rushes headlong at the enormous Draugr, swinging his axe in a sweeping arc. Unlike the ones we defeated before, this Draugr displays remarkable skill, handily parrying Golldir’s swing with its sword before thrusting it forward. Golldir just barely blocks with his shield, and as they exchange strikes, it quickly becomes obvious who holds the upper hand.

I try to find an opening, but I can’t. My instincts are begging me to just run away and abandon this moron to his death, but I can’t even move my legs. With an annoyed growl, I charge at the Draugr, hoping to hit it at least hard enough to kill it in one hit.

It notices me, though, and as I get close, it tries to backhand me, but I am just fast enough to duck under its fist. The Draugr kicks Golldir back and swings its blade at my neck, but I manage to put the blade of my hatchet right in front of the incoming strike, redirecting it upward as it grazes my forehead. Sparks erupt from the clash as I’m sent a few paces backward. I can feel my bones quivering from that. How strong is that thing?

Blood streams down my face from the shallow cut. I drop the hatchet and point my palm at its face just as it attempts another swing. I release a surprisingly strong surge of electricity that knocks me back, causing me to tumble and land on my ass.

Golldir rushes back at the Draugr and manages to land a clean blow on its back, as my previous lightning attack managed to stun it, but it isn’t enough to put it down. The Draugr casually turns around and punches the Nord with its armored fist, breaking his nose and sending him crashing into the dusty, broken furniture.

Golldir quickly rolls to the side as the Draugr slashes down at him, barely missing a killing blow. The Nord quickly gets on his feet, blood seeping from his nose as he struggles to keep the Draugr at bay, blocking and parrying its blows.

I get back up and calm myself with a breath, and as I try to find another opening, I notice something off in the way it moves.

There’s an odd pause in its movements. It seems to hesitate, only blocking or parrying at the last moment. And whenever it swings, it gives Golldir a chance to evade a lethal strike. 

Is my earlier zap hindering its movement? No, I doubt that’s the case. My Lightning Manipulation doesn’t seem powerful enough to inflict lasting damage like this. The issue with it isn’t clear to me, but it feels more like the Draugr is unwilling to kill him. It shows no desire to fight.

Almost like it wants to be defeated.

I take a deep breath and sharpen my focus, charging as much electricity as I can. I drop both my destroyed hatchet and dagger, aiming both hands at the Draugr, and as soon as Golldir gains some distance, I unleash all the charged energy in a big bolt of lightning.

It doesn’t do much in terms of damage from what I can tell, but I only wanted to stun it, so I grab the dagger once more and rush forward, striking at its hand to disarm it. The loud clang when the blade hits the ground makes me wince, but it gives Golldir the needed opening as he swings his axe with all his might, striking the exposed part of its chest armor.

The Draugr groans and looks at Golldir. It moves its mouth to say something before suddenly whipping its head towards the big door and shouting a single word that shakes the entire tomb.

“FUS!”

The door is flung off its hinges from the power of the shout. Golldir and I stagger from it even though it wasn’t directed at us, and as we regain our footing, the Draugr breaks into a broad, creepy grin before falling to the ground, unmoving as the glow in its eyes disappears.

Holy shit, it could’ve shouted us apart all this time.

“What was that?!” Golldir shouts in shock.

“Never mind that. Treat your aunt.” I snap. “She’s losing too much blood.”

“R-right, of course.” He approaches Agna, who is leaning against the wall, breathing heavily, the sword in her hand having slipped out of her grip and fallen next to her. 

Golldir crouches and takes some bandages out of his bag, wrapping one around his aunt’s broken arm and a few over her other wounds. The woman seems to be seconds from passing out, sweating bullets until she finally loses consciousness, but not before patting her nephew on the shoulder and smiling at him.

I could give her the potion I found earlier, but I won’t. It’s my last bit of insurance that I won’t die here or any time soon. I only said I’d help him get rid of the necromancer, not save her life. 

And with that stupid stunt he just pulled, I’m less inclined to help his dumb ass.

“She should be safe here,” Golldir says, getting back on his feet. “Vals will be too busy with us to hurt her.”

“And he’s right there, isn’t he?” I gesture towards the next chamber, grabbing the Draugr’s sword and my dagger and noticing how unfamiliar the bigger weapon feels in my hand.

Holding a sword feels so wrong compared to the dagger. That’s how I felt about the hatchet, too.

“He should be.” He nods. “Let’s go. That bastard needs to be taught a lesson.”

We enter the new chamber, where we see said bastard at the far end of the room, holding his seemingly broken arm in pain as he struggles to get back on his feet. I blink in confusion for a moment and realize that the force of that shout must’ve reached him as well. Not killing him, but injuring him for us, at least.

That’s nice.

He notices us, and his eyes widen in shock. “You— how did you get here?!”

“This is the end for you, Elf.” Golldir growls. “I’ll make you pay for your crimes.”

“How?! I raised the corpse of a Nord Hero!” Vals scowls, panicking slightly as he forces himself up on his feet. “You weren’t supposed to defeat it!”

Does he mean the Draugr we just killed?

“That thing didn’t even want to fight, you n’wah.” I scoff. “So much for being a Necromancer. Try perfecting the basics of Conjuration before you pretend you’re the second coming of Mannimarco.”

“Why you…!” He growls angrily, his hands bursting with fire. “Tsk, no matter, that’s nothing but a fluke. You’ll make fine new servants once I’m through with you.”

“He may be injured, but he’s still able to fight,” Golldir warns. “Be careful.”

The Dark Elf flings a Fireball our way, but we both roll and evade the blast. Vals looks more focused on Golldir than I, seeing that I’m wearing tattered rags, but he keeps me in his field of view. Golldir gets closer, but a rain of fire spells keeps him back, and I try to find the chance to sneak up behind him.

If I get behind him while he’s too busy with the Nord, I can finish him off. He’s nowhere near as scary as that Draugr, especially seeing that he’s wounded. 

I catch him off guard by shooting a quick bolt that shocks him, stunning him for a split second. Golldir uses the chance to charge at him quickly, and with the Nord getting close to Vals, I slip away and around him, approaching him from behind as he’s too busy dodging Golldir’s swings.

The Nord barely tilts his head to dodge a fireball that singes his hair, his eyes widening as he sees me directly behind the Necromancer. Golldir leaps back as I plunge the sword into Vals’ back, making him gasp and cough up blood. 

As he tries desperately to take the sword out, his survival instincts kicking in, I go even further to make sure he stays dead and slit his throat with my dagger. Blood gushes out from the wound, painting the floor crimson as he chokes, clawing at his neck before simply going limp.

I pull the sword out and look at his corpse, breathing heavily. My hands are shaking uncontrollably, and my heart is pounding wildly. I’ve never taken a life before, and I never imagined it would be this bloody.

For a moment, everything goes silent as I stare at his body, still violently twitching sometimes. All I hear is the painful ringing in my ears as I try to keep my breathing under control.

“Raiden!” Golldir shakes me by the shoulders, snapping me out of my trance. “Calm down, my friend, it’s over.”

I nod, taking a deep breath as the noise dies down. My muscles stop spasming and twitching uncontrollably, but I can’t stop the slight shake in my legs.

“I know it must be hard.” He says. “But you’ve done it for a good cause. This Elf was a monster; he deserved to die.”

“Y-yeah, I know.” I nod, my voice getting even as I take another breath. “Was just a shock. Never killed anyone before.”

“That explains it.” He pats my shoulder. “You’ve fought well. You should be proud of yourself. Come, let’s return to the camp.”

With that, we head back out, with Golldir supporting his aunt on the way.

What a fucking mess.

[Rogue] class rank up x2!

[Raiju’s Heir] class rank up x4!

Raiju perk added

[Minor Healing Factor] - Perk

You heal relatively quickly compared to most, and resting increases the speed. 

At least I got something out of it.

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“Are you sure I can have this?” I ask, looking down at my new gear. “These were offerings for your ancestors, no?”

“Yes, however, I owe you a debt for your help against Vals,” Golldir responds. “You’ve helped me, and I needed to repay you for your efforts. I’m sure my ancestors would’ve also loved to reward you for protecting their honor.”

It isn’t a lot, all things considered, but I definitely need this. After we got his aunt out of the tomb and rested for the night, Golldir woke up early and went back inside, bringing a few things with him. Tough leather armor, a fur cloak, a few potions, a pouch of gold, and food. He told me to take them on my journey to Whiterun. Not only that, but he told me to keep the sword I got from that strong Draugr. 

I wondered if he was going back to the city with me, but he said he still needed to take care of a few things inside, like cleaning up the place after that necromancer and taking care of his aunt until she was ready to walk.

I mean, I’m not saying no to more supplies.

“If you say so.” I wear my backpack and give him a nod. “I’ll be going now.”

“Of course. Thank you for your help, Raiden.” He smiles. “If you need any help, seek me out in Riverwood. My aunt and I will always lend our hands to a friend.”

“Right.” I give a tiny smile and leave the camp. “See you.”

With that last exchange, we part ways. I safely make it down the hill and get back on the road, rolling my shoulder slightly with a frown. The pain is gone. Hell, the wound itself is. Same with the cut on my forehead, which didn’t even leave a scar. This ‘minor’ healing factor is no joke.

From what I can see, it’s still pretty early in the morning, maybe roughly around 8 am. According to Golldir, I have more than enough time to reach Whiterun before the sun sets, assuming I don’t run into anything like another bear or something.

But I’m more confident in myself. I have better armor, slightly better Raiju magic, and a healing factor. I think I can pretty much handle the threat of wild animals and bandits unless I’m jumped by more than one. That would fuck me up.

As I walk, I raise my hand and look at the crackling electricity surrounding it. I also need to get a better handle on this. Being capable of only shooting bolts makes me predictable; I have to find a different way to channel this. I have a few ideas, but I’m unsure if they can even be implemented properly.

Though, in all fairness, I just woke up in that prison yesterday, and a whole four levels in my Raiju class means it’s easier to use now. 

Hey, System?

Yes?

Actually, wait, do you have a name, or do I have to call you ‘System’ the entire time?

No. I do have a designated code, however. 

And that is?

SEL3700000-TYPE R. 

Yeah, I’m not gonna call you that. How about Selene?

Selene? 

I took the first three letters of your ‘code’ and continued off from there. This is the only thing that came to mind. 

I’m not very creative.

…You may call me whatever you wish.

Despite its— or her toneless response, I can sense some sort of joy or satisfaction from it.

Anyway, I wanted to ask you something—

A sudden and intense earthquake disrupts my stance as I crouch down to maintain my balance. The tremor is unexpected; however, the subsequent earth-shattering roar sends a chill through my very being. I am entirely frozen in my tracks, and in an instant, the sun's light vanishes, compelling me to look at the sky.

And I immediately wish I hadn’t done that.

An enormous dragon adorned with thick, pitch-black scales soars above me. The dragon’s crimson-hued eyes briefly meet with mine, and in that instant, I find myself momentarily unable to breathe, overwhelmed by an almost debilitating sense of despair. At that instant, I feel as though my life is in imminent danger.

I was aware of his existence and expected his arrival at some point; however, witnessing him in person evokes a distinctly different feeling. His stature in the game is incomparable to the colossal figure that dominates the entire sky—one that seemingly blots out the sun itself, casting an area of total darkness beneath him.

This moment seems to last forever. I know at this moment that the sight of the World Eater glaring at my very soul was something I'll never forget.

And the moment I blink, he finally flies past me.

For a long while, I couldn’t do anything but look at the sky, exactly where Alduin was when he looked at me, frozen like a statue.

What were you going to ask?

…Don’t worry about it.

I know the date already.