A/n: I’m not sure what to say guys but even tho this is the Game Start and I have ton of ideas, I wasn’t able to write at all lately and had some difficulties. I wrote like a few pages then kept deleting what I write. I’ll get my business together in the next couple of days and hopefully I come up with something good.
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Tragedy, according to the dictionary, it is an event causing great suffering, destruction, and distress, such as a serious accident, crime, or natural catastrophe. Now you can say what you want about Tragedies but what I see in front of me is nothing but total destruction with no meaning or purpose.
Just a pure form of destruction. Helgen’s Keep kept getting destroyed during the escape as a massive creature identified as a Dragon was landing on everything to make it crumble like pieces of biscuit.
Imagine being a human walking on a biscuit castle, you also breathe flames and make it rain fire. Scale the human and the biscuit castle image to a Dragon and a Town then you get a perfect image of what has happened here.
In the game, it looked like the ruined town can be scrapped after the dragon attack and the people can rebuild it again but here is my honest opinion. Five years ago, Winterhold had more hope than this. I fear if I hit these castle walls, they will come crumbling on my head.
"God, help me!" I couldn’t help but sigh and drive my Flame Atronach Horse into the ruined town. If the outside was a tragedy then I have no other words to describe it but to shut up in bewilderment. The smoke blocked the sky and the corpses were turning black then scattering to ashes with the wind.
Helgen is not a small town. It housed almost 700 people who all live here to work, hunt and trade with the travelers and the merchants coming from the south. It was a very thriving community with houses extending out of the fortress.
I had 5 reinforced vaults (the so-called wine cellars) under this town which are the best thing Jull could get done in the half-year period. Each one has the capacity to house 100 people for a day with all the supplies stored in. It means that almost one-third of the population couldn’t make it in.
I just hope some has survived, the World-Eater must not acquire more soul than this else he will grow stronger than what I can handle. After all, I may be supported by Fate to stop him but Alduin has his own Fate as well which makes us lethal to each other.
Let’s put the negative thoughts away, I have to do my part of the rescue right now.
"Pride, work separately." I said so for my staff to activate its will and act on its own. With pride around, I have three hands instead of two.
Now to the rescue, I can feel many life signals under the crumbling houses so I need to dismantle them one by one carefully and also must put down the fire. In my case, the best Firefighters are the best Arsonists, the Flame Atronachs.
Conjuring ten of those obsessed dancers was an easy task, once they were all ready and showed obedience, I commanded them to take start absorbing the flames eating Helgen... or what’s left of it.
The beauty of a Flame Atronach is to behold especially if it is my Greater Atronachs which are bigger and look way too majestic. They flew horizontally above the buildings on fire and started harvesting the dancing blazes like avid collectors or the Valkyries floating above the battlefields to pick the worthy. As they took the flames, I could hear screams and wails, I could also feel on the Atronachs getting attacked which is not something good, Atronachs are Daedra and they are not fond of mortals which means I had to cancel that Atronach before it reacts.
Riding to the site where the attack happened, there was a healer protecting injured townsfolk and looked pretty nervous.
"Halt your spells, light bearer. I came in peace." I called as I appeared on my Flame Horse Atronach.
It was understandable that everyone in this town is currently traumatized by the flames. Seeing anything flame related, especially my Greater Atronachs that had some grand horns and demonic appearances, would spook them almost immediately.
My appearance was surely unwelcomed but as I jumped down from the horse atronach, put away my black traveling cloak and appeared to them as a normal human being in my expensive appearance, I surely looked more approachable.
"Half your steps, fire mage. We don’t want your kind close?" A Nord woman raised some iron bar to my face.
Ah! I almost forgot good old Skyrim’s Rhabdophobia (Fear of Magic). Either way, I have to put on an act as a righteous mage else those knuckle-heads would refuse my help and chase me.
"Ease up, kinswoman! I have just reached Skyrim to see a beast spitting flames on your town. What manner of trickery did my eye play on me? Was it the tiredness of the travel making the smoke look like things or is it..." I spoke in a shocked tone.
"... A Dragon! It was a Dragon!" The Healer next to the woman spoke.
"Shor’s Bones! It wasn’t the mead... what is the meaning of this? No! It took off to the North... Riverwood!" I turned to the north and acted concerned about Riverwood’s safety to show my sincere worry.
"Fire Mage!" As I was taking a step away, the healer called.
"What?"
"You look skilled. Can you heal... no, can you put down the fires and save the folks under the rubble."
"But... Riverwood!"
"It’s a day travel from here and against the wings of a Dragon, you will reach another tragedy. Help save this one right here and we can only pray... pray that the Dragon nests or rests until the people go to hiding." The Healer said.
I had a solemn face for a while then I nodded.
"You are right. Only prayers can save them but I’ll work as fast as I can get. I must reach there before tomorrow’s rise." I agreed.
"Priestess, we can’t! He’s one of them mages. They burn things." The Nord woman pleaded.
"You Nords and your superstitions. Let the good man do some help, else these flames will suffocate us before the night." The Priestess said and turned to me, "Good man, please don’t dally long."
"I get it. Stand back!" I agreed and started working.
I wasn’t sure of it at first but this priestess is an Imperial. She is the same priestess that was giving the last rites to the Stormcloaks before execution. To think I would run into the NPC everyone fails to remember.
Anyway, it was about time I began working for real. I doubled the Atronachs to 20 and the flames were being put down fast. As fast as I could, I would dismantle the rubble by [Telekinesis] carefully and pick up the survivors I find by [Detect Life].
I can tell from the townsfolk gasps by my working speed was beyond what they imagined to be possible let alone expected to see. I had a plan from the beginning and I am used to the rescue processes since I was there during the disaster of Hammerfell a year ago.
Still, it wasn’t the time to be the glamorous hero. With each survivor I dug up, two were found dead. Children, elderly, women, men, animals... It was a massacre. Aside from the completely disintegrated corpses, I counted almost a hundred corpses in the first hour.
"Mage, something is not right. Where are the rest of the townsfolk?" The Priestess asked.
"In hiding. They seem to have been saved by my employees." I said.
"... Your employees? You have people with you?"
"No. Truth is, I own some storehouses in this town. Wine & Food Cellars you see, the Legion Trades with us. The cellar keepers must have acted on their own and carried the people to safety, thank goodness."
My tone was delighted but the priestess looked at me doubtful. The Nords with her reacted in a similar manner but more distrustful.
"Aside from the Imperial War Mages, we see no other Mage in Helgen, stranger. How could you have a business here when no one heard of you before?" A man said.
"Calm down, Kinsman. They seem to be safe with not much in danger but the cellars are under that big rubble. If I move it too much, those who are under the rubble may get squeezed with violent movements. Don’t be reckless when you move anything."
Distrustful Nords are ticking bombs especially with Mages. My reputation as Jon Dare has been tarnished by those who use my identity so I must not claim that I am Jon Dare first. Also, not every place in Skyrim is Winterhold. I have worked for three years to change the people’s opinion about Mages but there was still distrust in Winterhold. Nords would trust Nord Mages and Healers like Alina but not the one that Summon Daedra or Shoot Fire.
By the second hour, I was already done with most of the fires and the rubble. In the end, I put my best efforts to clear the rubble off the entrances of the Cellars and started knocking on their doors.
"Open up! It is over!" I called.
Took them a while to open but as soon as they did, cries and wails were heard and people were scared of the Dragon to the point where they believed they would die underground. A few hours were enough to turn these cellars into a mess but as soon as they were opened, the mess was all out.
"We need help here! Many injured and the potions are not working!" Isha was carrying a child that seemed to have been burnt by Alduin’s direct fire, how the child survived is beyond me.
Aiding the injured was hard to the point where I was performing high-level spells without resting. With the tight time in our hands, I was not even sure what to do. Truthfully, I was to leave for Riverwood since I want to follow the path of the game’s events. Obviously, the Dragon headed north so I just should warn the people to the North.
Yet the situation at hand was consuming. It is not four hours since the dragon attacked and there were people dying at a rapid pace. Saving them was my priority.
I can tell that all those who die to Alduin’s flames get their Souls eaten. Alduin is no ordinary Dragon but the King of his kind. His abilities start with being Incredibly Powerful, Almost Indestructible, has the ability to Eat Souls, and a terrifying Time Manipulator. That and the things I don’t know but what I know is to prevent any deaths caused by Alduin else his power will increase rapidly. Sovngarde is a long term problem that can be at least toned down by stopping the War but stopping Alduin himself needs a lot more.
By the time the sun was setting, I had all the people out of the cellars. The potions and medical supplies there kept the situation from worsening but out of townsfolk and the visitors, we reached the casualty rate of 25% meaning that in each family of four, one died.
A fucking disaster.
Drained as I was, I sat watching how the situation unfolds. The town was covered under a thick cloud of smoke and their air was suffocating but families kept looking at their broken houses and seeking their lost. I had a plan to use these people and spread the news of my arrival but for some damn reason, I couldn’t. It would be of great disrespect to keep spreading my name wherever I go as some sort of a saint. I am no saint. I knew this would happen and if I wanted to do it better, I should have warned the people, not waited until the Dragon struck and...
"Fuck me!"
I truthfully felt frustrated, nothing I was able to do more. At that time and in this place, I made a strange decision that altered my plan for the coming campaign against Dragons. It was the right thing to do.
I was about to get out of Helgen but a voice called for me.
"Jon... Jon Dare."
I looked towards the voice to see a man carrying a boy on his back and looking at me as if he saw a ghost.
"Torolf?"
"By Ysmir it is you! You are the mage who was saving the town." Torolf said as he approached me.
In the ruined area I was sitting in, the people kept a distance from me being a mage and all but once Torolf approached me, I was looked at by the people. I could hear my name being whispered between the people between believing and denying. After all, two years have passed since any news of me, the real me, went across Skyrim.
I stood up to face Torolf son of Froki, the man who was supposed to die by the grim breath of Alduin.
"Long time no see, Torolf. That’s your son?"
"Yes, that’s my Haming."
"Strong boy. You two on your own?"
"No, I’m looking for my wife, Matlara. She is around here somewhere. I just can’t... There is too much smoke... Jon, no, Thane Jon, can your magic do something about this smoke? I need to find Matlara."
Torolf was a good man I knew from the time being taught by Froki, I made sure he isn’t killed and he thankfully looks healed. I am drained but I can still deal with the smoke.
"Fine, Torolf. Just cover your boy’s ears." I said and walked off to some broken tower of the keep.
Out of my intention, I was eyed by all the people who were both curious and doubtful of the mage who is me. I couldn’t help but sneer as I knew what I had for those knuckle-heads.
My head was clearer now. I can see a better way to solve things and make it interesting all at the same time. But from here, I’ll give you guys a good show.
"LOK VAH KOOR!" (Sky Spring Summer)
***
The holy rays of the sun bathed the wounded Helgen as each and every smoke particle glooming above the afflicted town.
The Thu’um that brought doom to this town was the same method that chased the darkness away. Blessed and bright, the warm divine sun opened bathes of hope and woke the miserable damned. The people looked up and around to see the bright hazy sky giving them back its blessing.
What makes the Nord a Nord is the Sky and the blessed breath of Kyne.
Once the smoke was clear, the cries of despair were now the calls of hope. Those who were torn apart from their loved ones were reunited, those who found no hope could grasp it, and those who needed solace were condoled by the last strands of light.
One man was there for Helgen when the Imperials, the Stormcloaks and the Jarl’s men ran for their miserable lives. That man was Jon Dare... the real Jon Dare who has finally returned.
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