PROLOGUE

The sounds of the battle still raging below seem distant, like an old memory.

I lie face-up in an ever-growing pool of my own blood, the shattered hafts of two war-lances buried in my gut and left shoulder. My shredded right arm is useless, the jagged bits of bone poking through the ash-pale skin. I've long since given up trying to stand, having found out that I can barely muster the strength to move my limbs. I can still sense the faint presence of one of several fallen beasts nearby which gave their lives to protect me, its consciousness also ebbing away as crows and other carrion-eaters pick at its flesh.

So this is what dying feels like. I remember the callow recklessness of my younger self, unflappably confident and unafraid of death. The irony doesn't escape me. I let out a ragged chuckle, which sends sharp needles of pain coursing anew through my broken body as fresh rivulets of blood trickle from my mouth.

There's a deep, creeping chill in my bones that never really goes away, despite my many layers of furs and battered armor. How I wish that I had the comforting warmth of a sleeping draught to numb this pain. Already my vision is fading, and my mind starts the slow and arduous process of letting go of the cares of the mortal realm. It wants to fly far, far away from this wretched place. It yearns for home.

Not that cold, drafty stone fortress which had been my seat for nearly two decades, where my wife and three young children anxiously wait for the husband and father whom they shall never see again... but rather, the warm and cozy little cave from my earliest childhood memory, the place where I first opened my eyes and took in the sights, scents and sounds of this cruel world.

Someone's warm hand - a woman's - engulfs my own and softly caresses my fingers. I can feel hot tears falling onto my face. With my last remaining strength, I feebly turn my head towards my companion as she plants chaste kisses on my brow and cheeks.

Though my eyes could no longer see clearly, my heart does. I suddenly realize who had come to accompany me in my last moments as I embark on my final journey. Even now, I recognize her scent as she holds my bleeding head close to her breast. My lips curve into a small smile as I hear her long-forgotten voice sing the familiar plaintive strains of our favorite lullaby.

Mother...

I close my eyes and let my last thoughts be of home¹.

¹An Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim reference. These were Ralof of Riverwood's immortal words during the intro sequence: "A Nord's last thoughts should be of home."

Song inspirations for this chapter: Gregorio Allegri - "Miserere Mei, Deus" performed by Tenebrae Choir, Giovanni Battista Pergolesi - "Stabat Mater in F Minor: Stabat Mater Dolorosa" performed by Cambridge Ensemble

A/N: This is the Prologue chapter for my first fanfic, so I'll get some of the world-building out of the way for now. Chapter I will be coming soon. **EDITED**