Chapter 1

"It was at my farm late last night." Jurgik, a Nord clad in simple peasant clothing, slightly slurred as he waved about his drink. Some of the mead spilled out his tankard and landed on the table and himself. The man didn't seem to notice and took a deep swig of whatever he had in his hand. The Retching Netch was busy tonight and the Dragonborn was irritated beyond words at having to be here. She hated dealing with drunks, especially Nord drunks.

"And what do you think it was?" The Dragonborn prodded impatiently. She wanted to deal with Jurgik and get back to the mainland as quickly as possible but it looked like that would take longer than she thought. All she wanted was a book. Why in the Nine's name did that mean she would have to go about doing favor after favor for people until they gave her what she wanted? This man could easily give her the book, he didn't seem to really care for a dusty old tome as he himself stated, but no. Jurgik would only give it to her if she killed some beast he saw the other night.

"I don't know. It looked like a person but it sure didn't act like one. It growled at me so I got the hell outta there before it came after me. It was… Unnatural."

"It was dark so maybe you saw a bear or wolf?" The woman suggested. It had probably been some animal that the man mistook it for something else. He'd probably been drunk when he saw it too. Nords did like their drink.

"I don't know and I don't care. I just want you to kill it. That Bristleback of mine it killed was from the Rieklings, you know. It was perfectly tame. Do you know how hard it is to get one of those?" Jurgik looked at her and she nodded her head, pretending she knew. "So once you kill it, I'll give you the damn book, alright? I need to make sure it's dead so it won't try to get the rest of my boars when I let them out of the barn."

"Fine."

The Dragonborn turned away from the man and left the inn swiftly. The woman wanted to get this request done with so she could head back to Skyrim. Sometimes she hated being so nice. When Urag Gro-Shub asked her for a book, the warrior could not say no. She was the Dragonborn, Archmage of the College of Winterhold, the Slayer of Alduin and the Savior of Solstheim but she was incapable of saying no to someone in need, even if it was for something as trivial as a book. The warrior knew to never say that in front of Urug though. He would have given her a long angry lecture on why the books were important.

When the Dragonborn arrived on Solstheim once more and questioned the residents about the whereabouts of the book, The Reclamations, she had ending up doing a few tasks before the residents would part with their knowledge. After delivering a few goods here and there, the warrior was told the book was part of a Dark Elf's personal collection. She had gone to the Mer but he would not part with it, no matter the reason or price. The Elf did tell her that there was one other person he knew with a copy. A man named Jurgik had come to him weeks earlier to try and sell The Reclamations. As the Mer already had one, he had declined to purchase it.

The Dragonborn had thanked the Elf and found Jurgik drinking at the local inn the next night. Solstheim's hero wasn't about to steal or threaten anyone for a book so she agreed to do a favor for the Nord in return for what she wanted. If the woman could get that blasted book without harming anyone then she was okay with a bit of inconvenience. But she had a right to be a little irritated by it, which she was.

The chill of Solstheim's air made the Dragonborn shiver. She readjusted her armor and pulled a cloak she had bought for this journey tighter around herself. Metal armor did not ward off the cold very well. Thankfully, Solstheim was not as cold as it was the first time she came here, which was in the dead of the coldest months. The volcanic ash from Red Mountain warmed the southern part of the island but the rest was as cold as it had always been, she had been told. The ash made the land much less habitable, however, and the dust storms were not something anyone enjoyed. While traveling, the change in temperature sometimes made the warrior feel sick.

Being back on this island brought back memories and regrets the Dragonborn wished she did not have. She had saved Solstheim. But at what cost? Had she damned herself? And why did she feel this nagging feeling of guilt whenever she thought of that stupid, arrogant Dragon Priest, Miraak? She had defeated him, well Hermaeus Mora had actually done that bit but, why did his death cause her regret? He was a monster. He deserved his fate.

But even if that was the case, the feelings of regret lingered and the Dragonborn hoped that wherever Miraak's soul was now, that he was free. He was supposed to have been a savior at one time too. But he chose a different path for himself and sold himself to a Daedra. And look where he ended up. The woman preferred not to think of the fact that she had done the same thing.

These thoughts kept the female Dragonborn's mind busy until she finally reached the farm the Nord man owned. Thankfully even drunk, the Jurgik's directions were accurate. Investigating the surroundings, the warrior found the spot where a boar had been killed. The strange mixture of ash and snow around the farm had been disturbed here, but the area was quickly being covered up by more falling from the sky. There was a faint trail leading away from the farm. Whatever had killed the boar had also dragged it away, probably eating a bit of it first as there was pieces of hide and flesh scattered about.

The Dragonborn unsheathed her sword as she followed the trail. As she followed it, she shivered. The warrior could feel that something was off, like there was some sort of presence about. She remained alert for any trouble and continued on in the silent night.

After a surprising amount of time had passed and the woman had entered the pure snow laden grounds of Solstheim, the warrior found the carcass. It wasn't as large as the Bristlebacks she normally saw so it must have been young. Its exposed ribs stuck out of its torn flesh. A leg had been ripped off and its eyes stared sightlessly at the sky. The beast's mouth was open and its tongue was missing, likely having been eaten or ripped off as well.

The woman neared the carcass to see that it was mostly frozen. Upon closer inspection, she found that the bite marks on the animal were not from a bear or wolf. They were too small. There were a large amount of gashes on it neck, like something had viciously clawed at it. As she peered closer at the flesh, clouds covered the moon. What little illumination she had now was not enough to see by. The Dragonborn raised one hand and cast a Candlelight spell when she heard something behind her. The conjured ball of light floated above her as she reacted. Pivoting around, the warrior readied her blade as a growl erupted from whatever crept up on her. It was animalistic, almost draconic in sound. The warrior paused in shock at the source of the sound, her spell allowing her to see the shape of what lurked in the darkness.

There was what looked to be a man in the shadows of a nearby cliff. He must have easily snuck up on her as she was distracted. The woman couldn't see him properly as he was too far for her light spell to properly illuminate. The man was crouched low and began moving forward in a slow and predatory manner, using his hands to move on the ground as well. As he got closer the warrior could see more of him.

The Dragonborn was pretty sure it was a man now. A tall, black-haired one, had he been standing upright. He wore unidentifiable tattered clothing, which were stained with either blood or dirt. Her light spell allowed her to see but her vision was still not too great in the dark. The exposed skin the woman could discern was pale, likely this man was a Nord or another race of Man. His very sharp and white teeth, reflecting a little bit of the light, were bared in a snarl. The warrior wondered how this unkempt man was not cold. She could not make out the eyes or the rest of his face as the man's hair fell over and obscured them from her.

"Who are you?" The Dragonborn asked sharply but her question was met with no answer, just another growl. Could this man talk? Or was he feral? The latter seemed likely, at his behavior and position. The warrior had found the culprit of the boar killing, she thought. It seemed like the Nord had been right when he said he saw a man. The warrior gripped her sword tighter and readied herself in case she needed to fight. She hoped she wouldn't have to though.

The feral man growled again, as if warning her away from his kill. Unsure of what to do for the moment, the Dragonborn did just that. She did not want to attack just yet. The woman took small half-steps back until she no longer blocked the path to the boar. As she backed away, the male inched closer to the dead animal. Even though she could not see them, the woman knew he was keeping his eyes on her.

It was strange though. The Dragonborn felt like she should know this man. There was some sort of faint energy, an aura of some sort, that she could feel emanating from him. This must have been what she sensed on her path here. But why?

Whatever feeling the woman had was similar, but also different, to when she was near a Word Wall. With unease, the warrior was suddenly reminded of Miraak. The Dragon Priest had been able to tell instantly that she had been a Dragonborn when she first arrived to Apocrypha. The Last Dragonborn had not been able to do the same but she had felt a faint something whenever Miraak appeared to take a dragon soul from her and when she fought him.

The energy the warrior felt from the feral male was similar to Miraak's but more… Hollow? Though she did not think the man before her was Miraak, or even a Dragonborn, it did seem like this feral man was connected to the Thu'um in some way. This made the the Dragonborn more wary. Could this be some sort of trick from Hermaeus Mora? Maybe he was one of the Daedra's unfortunate followers who had gone mad from seeking his knowledge? The woman vowed to find out.

The Dragonborn stopped moving as the black-haired man reached and began to inspect the carcass. He sniffed the cold body and rumbled deep in his throat. The sound was not human-like at all. The feral male then turned to her and snarled loudly, but again, did not say a word. He turned away from her then and stood on two legs, though he was slightly hunched. The man grabbed the boar by its hind leg and began to pull it away from her. The warrior could tell he was strong as the boar moved easily..

The Dragonborn decided her course of action as her Candlelight spell began to disperse and the clouds began to reveal the moon.

"Stop!" The Dragonborn's voice startled the male and she began to walk forward with her sword raised. She would learn now if this man was truly feral or not. She would try not to hurt him and use the flat of her blade, if she needed to fight.

The male jerked and faced her, his hair shifting so the moonlight illuminated his face. The Dragonborn stopped a few feet away from him, her eyes widening in surprise at what she saw. His face… There was dirt, or maybe dried blood on his face. But that was not all. There were dark green scales on the man's cheek and neck, only on the left side. Just as surprising was the fact that his eyes, narrowed in anger and suspicion, were pitch black.

Focusing on him, the woman noticed one of the feral man's hands was not normal either as he let go of the boar and raised his arms in a defensive gesture. There were short black talons tipping each finger of his left. Another patch of scales covered part of the same forearm. The male lowered his head and bared his teeth again at the Dragonborn's sudden nearness to him and his kill.

As the woman stared into the man's angry eyes, the Dragonborn felt his aura more clearly. She was both surprised and alarmed to find that she now knew without a doubt who this man was. Part of her recognized him now. It shouldn't be possible but taking in the man's height, build, and the fact that she could feel a similar power, this could only be First Dragonborn.

"Miraak?" The woman uttered in shock.

This is going to be a different kind of story than what I've been writing in this fandom. It likely going to have some more issues than normal and might not be as appealing to readers, but I'm still going to write it regardless. ;p

Constructive criticism is always welcome! Thank you. :)