The Leader | A Skyrim Story | Book 1

Prologue

The Awakening Of A Hero

PROLOGUE

In the land of Skyrim there is a war raging between clans, the Stormcloak Rebellion and the Imperial Government.

The Stormcloak's fight for what they believe to be freedom of all races, they believe that they are freeing their brethren from an oppressive government.

The Imperials fight for control and protection, they believe that by winning against their enemies that they can rid the world of evil, and bring peace to their homeland.

Both fight for control over Skyrim, both fight for valour and honour in their respective clans. But both are at a tipping point, neither can win during their current situation.

Our journey begins in a small town in the mountain sides. This town being Riverwood, the tiny town containing so little people the Imperials and Stormcloaks deemed it unneeded in their own respective 'paths to glory'. The town had an eire silence that descended on the rising sun; this silence was broken by a cry from the small inn that was near the entrance of the town.

This cry belongs to a young soon to be mother named Delphine and her son. Delphine was giving birth to the greatest hero Skyrim had ever been given, but none that traveled this land knew that yet.

As Delphine lay on her cot, the furs warming her, she was in immense pain. The great child had come early and no one was prepared, Delphine looked towards her husband Jorlain and sighed.

"How far off is the Healer?" She asked impatiently as she held her stomach the pain causing her to curl up on the tiny cot.

"He's a day from here," Jorlain replied, reaching for his wives hand "The blacksmith's wife should be here at midday, she has knowledge of birthing and the labours of it."

Delphine nodded slowly accepting her husbands hand, she felt as if the world were crushing her right then and there. She laid there, in her cot covered in various furs, occasionally letting out a heavy breath from holding her cries of pain.

A few hours later came the arrival of the blacksmiths wife, bringing hope of the petit babe's survival to the mother.

The blacksmith's wife shoved the teller at the desk out of her way and jogged to the back room. Hurrying as fast as she could, but stopping and slowing her run to a brisk walk when nearing the door.

"Oh my!" The woman cried in surprise as she threw open the door, "You must be feeling terrible! I'm Sigrid, Alvor's wife."

Delphine could only grunt in response as she was suddenly hit by the biggest wave of pain yet.

Realization hit Sigrid like a stone to the face, Delphine wasn't making it through childbirth. Sigrid's eyes started tearing up as she approached the foot of the cot. Reaching up she rubbed Delphine's arm to gather all of her attention.

"Delphine, listen to me" she began slowly "you must try your hardest to stay awake, push with all your might and we have a chance to save your child."

Jorlain looked at her with worry clear as day in his eyes.

"Will she make it?" He asked tears threatening to fall.

"I cannot diagnose her for sure, at the moment seeing as I am not the Healer," she replies pausing, her voice dropping to a whisper "but it doesn't look promising."

Jorlain turned to his wife, his soulmate and the only love he'd ever have tears beginning to fall. Delphine met his eyes and kissed him lovingly.

"If I pass you must promi-" she broke off as coughs racked her body "me something"

"Anything my dear...." Jorlain replied quickly, Delphine smiled softly.

"Take our son, at the age of 7, to Whiterun, have him presented to the Jarl and request he train our son" Delphine demanded as her husband nodded slowly "Let the Jarl know of our predicament and tell him all the favours he owes me mean nothing if he accepts to train our son to the finest he can be."

"I will do as you wish my beloved" Jorlain vowed as he bowed his head to her. Delphine's body shook with another stream of coughs as she finished her conversation, she looked at her husband with love one last time. Her eyes clouded over as she slowly fell back on her back.

As Delphine's final breath was heard, three cries were made; one in anguish, as Jorlain released his MIGHTY roar he heard two other cries in tandem with his own. One of relief and happiness and the other, the cry of a newborn. But the tension soon cut both cries in half as Sigrid's eyes traveled to the mother of the child she now held, she let her smile fade as she took the child and cradled him in her arms.

Jorlain stood slowly from his stool and reached for his child, Sigrid gladly handing the silent child to his father. The child was what would definitely not be described as a runt as his oddly crimson eyes followed his father's face.

"Nicholas" Jorlain mumbled as he tickled his son causing a giggle to erupt from the newborn's chest.

"A name worthy of a great warrior...." Added Sigrid as she stood to Jorlain's left head tilted down in respect for the dead wife.

"Let the gods smile upon you young Nicholas of Riverwood" A voice said from the doorway as the Jarl walked in. "Let this day be one of rejoicing and happiness, the saviour was born."

"Jarl Balgruuf" Jorlain says bowing Nicholas blanketed in his arms.

"Rise husband of Delphine, I just wish to see off an old friend." Jarl Balgruuf says smiling warmly, Jorlain smiled halfheartedly.

"She has already passed on, her final wishes were for me to request you train our son in every way possible." Jorlain informs the higher being. "Will you carry out her final requests M'lord?"

The Jarl's smile dissipated slightly only to return at the request.

"I will call on the best from our allied cities, a wizard from Winterhold and a blacksmith from Markarth. The boy will be educated on everything from sword to warglaive and the most simple healing spell to a spell on how to change one's thoughts." The Jarl declared putting his arm around the crying and smiling man holding his sleeping child. "Now come friend, we must discuss arrangements for you in Dragon's Reach.

And that is how our story begins, the tiny body wrapped in a fur blanket. The tiny child being the Saviour or Destruction of one group; the intelligently glinting in his crimson eyes that flit around to take in the world around him. Because even at such a young age this child was being prepared to save Skyrim or to destroy it with a single swing of a sword. 

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