18th Last Seed, 4E 201Y
The dream, a vague and disjointed enigma, fragmented and amalgamated within my psyche with a confusing entanglement. A transcendental force, imperceptible to logic, unfolded and engendered two intertwined entities. From these entities emerged a force of will, an ethereal entity infused with motivation, whose origins and purposes were lost in the abyss of indefiniteness. These entities, servants of cosmic uncertainty, became the architects of two other beings, encapsulated in the finitude and limitations of their newly conceived reality.
The downward and convoluted progression of this energy generation process continued, an indissoluble phenomenon of the cosmos itself, creating a distressing and oppressive perception. A deep sense of affliction infiltrated the fibers of the universe and reached my very being, resonating in the universal line like a dissonant murmur, challenging comprehension and casting a dense veneer of enigmas over the secrets of existence.
And then... I woke up.
Minutes dragged on like hours as my vision, still blurry and hazy, attempted to penetrate the darkness that surrounded me. With a fragmented mind and faltering awareness, my eyes captured a feline figure emerging from the shadows. The torch he carried projected beams of golden light that bathed the entire surroundings, and slowly, my perception began to waver.
I felt a presence beside me, a firm yet gentle touch, as the feline figure began to lift me with skill and caution. My mind, still weakened by the shock and the strangeness of the situation, tried to process what was happening. Murmurs of unfamiliar words filled the air, while the sensation of being carried by this stranger, whose identity I could barely conceive, became clearer. But I couldn't maintain consciousness...
---
The strong scent of something burning invaded my nostrils, disturbing my sleep. I shifted restlessly in the bed, whose coarseness seemed to penetrate the softness of my skin. An unrelenting itch took hold of me, as if my own bed were mocking my attempt at rest.
"I left the pot on the fire!" my voice rang through the room as my eyes widened in a panic. The reality before me was disorienting. This was not my room; in fact, I was in an entirely unfamiliar place.
An unsettling question loomed in my mind: where was I? My eyes scanned the surroundings in a desperate effort to understand the situation I found myself in. Confusion overtook me, my heart hammering uncontrollably in my chest. Each beat was like the frantic step of an exhausted runner in a marathon, while my dry mouth struggled to swallow saliva, the only response to my desperation.
"Wait! I was playing Skyrim, right?" a memory seeped into my mind, a revelation breaking through the fog of confusion. I remembered vividly playing and wearing a virtual reality headset.
I reached out with trembling hands to remove the VR visor from my face, but my touch found only my skin. Panic grew as reality seemed to slip through my fingers.
"What's happening?" I cried out, writhing in the bed. My urgency led me to rise in a disheveled manner, scratching at parts of my body irritated by the uncomfortable straw mattress.
In a corner, I found a pair of worn-out shoes and put them on, feeling the rough material beneath my feet. I looked around, trying to make better sense of my situation. Just a few feet away, there was a nightstand with a necklace on top, an item that seemed to have come directly from the game Skyrim.
I was dressed in leather garments that clung to my body like a second skin. My leather chest piece was adorned with carvings and had an aged texture.
My leather pants were equally remarkable, reinforced in the areas prone to wear and tear but light enough to allow for movement.
My own body seemed strange, with light tan skin and strands of hair brushing against the back of my neck, displaying a shade of red that was familiar to me.
"I am my own character?" I murmured, as I tried to rationalize my situation, even though it seemed absurd.
The internal gears of my intellect fired like a well-lubricated Formula 1 engine. Maybe I had died while sleeping with the virtual reality goggles, and now I was inside the game? Or perhaps all of this was just an incredibly realistic dream.
I remembered something about lucid dreams - if you were aware that you were dreaming, you could try to discern details to free yourself from the situation. I tried, examining my body meticulously, but every detail was so vivid, so deeply rooted in reality that it was impossible to deny.
So I moved on to the second option: pinching myself. "Ouch!" I exclaimed as a sharp pain shot through me. It was an uncomfortable pain, too real to be mere imagination.
And so the first phase began: Denial.
Was I delirious? Maybe my friends were right about the curse of playing Skyrim, but I couldn't have predicted that I would be transported into the game.
I vaguely recalled young people on social media mentioning something about "Reality Shifting," a kind of technique to enter other realities through sheer willpower. It was an absurd idea, and I was starting to doubt my own sanity.
Maybe it was a high fever or a delirium. I had spent so much time immersed in this game that my brain might have lost touch with reality. Worries began to multiply in my mind.
Then the second phase descended upon me: Fear and Desperation.
My gaze then wandered towards the door of the small cabin, which curiously seemed to be nonexistent. I felt the need to confirm that no one was lurking in the shadows of that silent forest.
With the outside area free of unwanted presences, I slowly backed up until I found the rough wall of the cabin, pressing my forehead against it in a desperate attempt to find comfort in its solidity.
"This can't be true," I whispered to myself with my disbelieving voice.
Amid my agony, my thoughts began to intertwine with pessimism: What were the worst ways to die in this strange world?
Losing a limb, an arm or a leg, only to wither away in some forgotten corner of the vast continent of Tamriel, was a terrifying possibility. The idea of facing a bear, which could easily crush a human, tormented my thoughts.
However, my agony intensified as my mind ventured down an even darker path. The possibility of attracting a Daedra, demonic beings that inhabited the dark realm of Oblivion, haunted me like a nightmare. The idea of being pursued by a malevolent entity curious about my unusual presence, condemned to a life of torment, haunted me.
And then the third phase began to set in: Partial Acceptance.
A wave surged from the depths of my soul, causing me to straighten up. I checked the area again for intruders, confirming that I was alone in that cabin lost in the middle of the forest.
Outside, I looked at the still-warm burn marks, the embers scattered on the ground, and the extinguished campfire, indicating a recent attack. I needed to survive.
My confused mind began to formulate an action plan. I returned to the cabin, debating internally whether I should run or first gather resources.
Opening the nightstand drawer, I found little help. The necklace caught my eye, and I picked it up to examine it. It was a typical piece from the world of Skyrim, something that might be worth some money, but it was far from a solution.
"Well, if I'm going to live here, I have to use my knowledge about this world," I muttered with my hand on my chin. "First and foremost, I need to know where I am."
As I turned to leave the cabin's interior, my eyes suddenly connected with those of a feline figure. A scream escaped my lips, and my body stumbled backward, seeking refuge on the nightstand next to me.
"Calm down, my friend," the Khajiit's soothing and reassuring voice broke the tense silence. My trembling hands frantically searched for any object that could serve as a defense.
Seeing a humanoid feline for the first time would typically be cause for excitement, but I was too frightened to feel joy.
"A Khajiit?" I exclaimed, my eyes scanning the room for a form of protection.
"A Khajiit in the flesh," he confirmed with a captivating smile, revealing his sharp teeth. His light brown skin, adorned with black lines that extended across his body, gave him an exotic appearance. His feline eyes, with golden irises, seemed inquisitive, attentively observing the world around him.
He was dressed in leather attire, which clung perfectly to his agile and slender form. The leather chest piece displayed intricately hand-carved details that told stories of past adventures, and his pants were adorned with patterns reflecting the culture and tradition of his race. A sturdy backpack rested on his back, carrying supplies and essential items for his journeys, while an axe and a pair of sharp daggers glistened at his belts, ready to be wielded in defense.
Sensing my fear, he cautiously approached. "Za'ren-Dar is not your enemy. He saved you from an ancient ruin. No need to fear."
Although my distrust was still evident, the reality of the situation forced my shoulders to relax slightly.
"Where am I? How did you find me?" I asked, trying to regain my sense of orientation.
Za'ren-Dar smiled and moved towards the bed, settling into the hay with his leather attire. "This is going to be a long story," he declared.
"Well... Za'ren-Dar, the one speaking to you, was exploring the ruins of Skyrim in search of valuable artifacts to make a living. While traversing the forest, he founds rocks blocking an entrance that seemed promising for an adventure. A light shone from the gap between the rocks, and he began to hear voices."
He continued with a cautious tone. "Za'ren-Dar removed the rocks and entered the passage that opened before him. This Khajiit was surprised as he explored and realized he was in an ancient temple, the Temple of Lorkhaj, the ancient god of darkness, a trickster," he said, his anger seeping into his words.
As he mentioned Lorkhaj, my attention deepened. Lorkhan or Lorkhaj, in the Khajiit language, was the Aedra responsible for conceiving the idea of creating the Mundus. But this divine being was accused of betrayal when the beings also known as Et'Ada, original spirits, realized that by empowering creation, they were losing their divinity and rebelled against Lorkhan, believing they had been deceived. It seemed that my arrival could be related to him in some way.
And Za'ren-Dar Kept going his talk. "This Khajiit continued the journey, fearing that walking through that cursed place might condemn him. But curiosity was stronger. Taking care not to touch anything, not wanting to attract any bad luck in this already miserable life. Yet, Za'ren-Dar continued to hear voices, as if a divine being were guiding him to something."
He leaned forward, intensifying his story. "Never had Za'ren-Dar prayed so much for Azura's protection... Moans caught his attention, and while searching the place, this Khajiit found you, unconscious and disoriented. Za'ren-Dar began to pull you out," he chuckled nervously. "The fear of leaving you there bringing curses, so choosing to save you."
"But... as he pulled you out of that place, a gigantic dragon flew over us, roaring towards Helgen. Za'ren-Dar wanted to run and leave you behind, but a dark voice entered his mind and prevented him. At that moment, Za'ren-Dar knew he was cursed, and there was no turning back."
Once I finished hearing the story, I leaned back thoughtfully against the wall. "Well," I said, a slight smile crossing my face. "I guess I should thank you."
"This Khajiit accepts your gratitude, but this one fears that continuing to be by your side will not bring good things," he said as he rose to leave.
My heart began to race uncontrollably again, and I gestured nervously. "What? No! You can't leave me here; I don't even know where I am."
The Khajiit shook his head hesitantly. "Since this one found you, only misfortunes have occurred. First, a dragon, and now... the owners of this cabin we've just met... were found dead and burned," he reported as he headed for the exit. "This suffering Khajiit already has enough problems."
My mind began to work quickly, and my voice took on a more persuasive tone. "Are you sure?" I suggested with a hint of provocation. "Lorkhan wouldn't be pleased if you abandoned me. Think about it; you were chosen by him."
He turned around reluctantly. "What are you talking about?"
My experienced mind in the art of lying fabricated the story.
"You saw me in the Temple of Lorkhan. A grand destiny awaits us, my friend. I'm going to need a guide," I asserted with a sly smile. "Of course, unless you want to incur the wrath of an Aedra. And... you can call me Kvolt."
---
17th Last Seed – Korniel Fael
The Skyrim mountains loomed ahead of me like stone sentinels, marking the boundary between the province of Cyrodiil.
I adjusted my simple peasant attire. I was alone and had strict orders not to reveal my purpose and to proceed with caution, even if caught by other agents.
My green eyes watched the rugged, snow-covered terrain in front of me attentively. Every step my horse took in that desolate landscape brought me closer to my destination. My assassin skills and my aptitude for magic were ready to be used, if necessary, and with caution to avoid arousing suspicion.
I knew that Skyrim was in the midst of a civil war, but my orders were clear: investigate, observe, influence, eliminate, and report.
I passed the first checkpoint with disinterested and bored Imperial soldiers.
"What's going on in Skyrim? Our unit hasn't been informed. We have two more checkpoints ahead, and no one tells us anything," the captain asked his subordinate, who also seemed clueless.
I found myself curious, but I resisted the urge to involve myself in matters that were not my concern.
As I got closer, I noticed the officer in front had a stern and stressed expression. He stared at me, his narrow eyes assessing me from head to toe. My scar at the corner of my mouth, a reminder of a fight with rivals, did not go unnoticed.
"Identification!" the officer grunted, reaching out towards me.
I handed him my forged documents.
"Korniel Fael, huh? A High Elf... So, you're a refugee from Summerset Isle?" the officer murmured, eyeing my name suspiciously.
I maintained an unwavering gaze. There was no room for nervousness in my world. My eyes, as cold as winter and tinged with forged melancholy, reflected what I wanted him to see: a simple traveler seeking shelter.
"Yes, I'm fleeing. Looking for opportunities in this land," I replied, keeping my voice under control, but with a touch of forced nervousness.
"You're entering Skyrim at a dangerous time," he said, allowing me to pass.
Hours later, when Nirn's twin moons bathed the forest in a brownish light, illuminating the dirt path ahead of me, I wondered what was happening in Skyrim. But destiny can be a cruel mistress. It didn't take long for the silence of the night to be shattered by the approaching footsteps of a patrol.
Sensing that something was amiss, I dismounted and hid in the shadows of the trees, tying my horse behind some tall foliage. The soldiers' steps echoed, their torches swaying, revealing their polished helmets and armor. They chatted among themselves, confident in their authority.
I moved silently through the trees, creeping toward the point of entry that would take me further away from Skyrim's border. I was well on my way when I heard the unmistakable sound of an ambush.
Rebels, wearing ragged armor and faces hardened by the cold, emerged from the foliage. They were Stormcloaks.
The ensuing confrontation was swift. Swords clashed, spells exploded, and blood was spilled. I remained in the shadows, observing the chaos unfold.
The rebels fought with all their might, but numerical superiority was on the side of the Imperials, who efficiently subdued their enemies. In the midst of the turmoil, one of them noticed me and pointed in my direction.
"Don't let anyone escape! Kill those who run!"
My astute mind sprang into action. I slipped through the fight like a shadow, avoiding curious glances and bloodthirsty swords. But before I could make my escape, a loud cry rang out, signaling the arrival of more Imperial soldiers. They surrounded my position, forcing me to retreat, with no chance of escape. I couldn't act without revealing my mission.
A strong hand grabbed my arm. Fate, once again, conspired against me. An Imperial soldier with a furious look stared at me, unconcerned with my attempts to explain who I was. In the blink of an eye, he threw me to the ground and, with brutality, delivered a blow that sent my consciousness into darkness.
My eyes closed upon impact, and my last thought before falling into darkness was a silent promise to survive, may Auri-El guide me.
---
My ears picked up distant dialogues and the unsettling vibration of something in motion seeping into my consciousness. Succumbing to restlessness, I forced my eyelids open and was greeted by a landscape I didn't recognize. It was daytime, that much was certain, but the elapsed time remained uncertain.
The initial confusion quickly gave way to a disorienting sensation as I surveyed my surroundings. My eyes swept the chaotic scene around me, filled with uniformed figures in gleaming armor and Imperial banners fluttering in the wind. I was surrounded by Imperial soldiers, and I realized that I was securely fastened inside an uncomfortable carriage.
Turning my head forward, my eyes locked onto a man similarly bound like me, a fellow companion in misfortune with whom I shared an uncertain fate. His gaze met mine in a moment of shared recognition. He broke the silence with words.
"Hey, you are finally awake!"