Elder Scrolls- Skyrim: A New Dawn

Prologue: Orphanage

Doors rattled as the iron hinges strained to keep hold. Cydadral clung to his father, meowing at the snow storm raging outside. Ma'Doujh held his wife and son close. They were huddled by the fire place, struggling to keep it lit as the winds shot down the chimney. It had been a few hours since the storm had hit.

Cydadral, the kitten Khajiit, had been practicing with his new bow before the clouds came over. His quiver of iron arrows wasn't worth much. This wasn't a wealthy family. It was evident in the clothing the family wore and how they ate. Clothes patched up about a million times, used over and over. That didn't matter to Cydadral. It had recently been his birthday, which Ignali thought it would be wise to get her son-in-law a bow. After all, she was a Nord. Retired inn-keeper and Khajiit, Ma'Doujh had traveled to the nearest city. There, he bought a few iron arrows with what little coin he had. Cydadral's face lit up at the gesture. He didn't expect to get anything for his birthday. This is because his parents ran a lumber mill. It wasn't making much, hardly anyone knew about it. Ma'Doujh couldn't buy food from the village. Instead, he hunted within the wilderness of Skyrim. Cydadral enjoyed this about his father. He wanted to be able to support a family like Ma'Doujh could. The kitten was meditating about this. Unaware of the changing weather around him, his Nordic step mother had to retrieve him. Snowflakes littered the dark cat's fur. "Didn't I tell you to remain aware of your surroundings! Didn't your father tell you that?" Ignali ended with a soft voice. Worry filled the room as patience dwindled away. Finally, a large brute came through the door. Ma'Doujh had returned from his hunt. Three rabbits were strung up at his belt, dangling and lifeless. Ebony fur was plagued by snow. His mane tussled about from the fury. Ma'Doujh lit the fireplace and held his family close.

Winds that once shook the house had died down to rattle what was loose. Cydadral got up to stretch his legs. He noticed that one of the windows was shattered, so he approached. It was a dangerous cloud of white, barely any visibility. However, in the deepest part of the storm, a beast rose up. Cydadral blinked a few times, unsure if it was real. The black figure seemed to get larger. "Young Khajiit, come forth. The day was long, Cydadral must rest." Ma'Doujh spoke. Cydadral looked once more, but the figure was gone. So he dismissed it, and crawled into his bed to wait out the storm. Heavy eyelids slowly closed, causing the world to turn dark.

A loud howl, ferocious hisses, war cries and destruction of furniture littered Cydadral's ears. His poor heart pounded as his eyes flew open. A Nord wife and her Khajiit husband were under attack by a large, black beast. A thunderous howl echoed through the cabin. Huge arms flung around maniacally in the room. Ma'Doujh and Ignali were thrown against a wall while Cydadral attempted a sprint towards the door. Unfortunately, the beast was too fast. It leaped towards Cydadral, sinking its venomous fangs into the cub. Pressure was released only for the cat to be slammed against the wall. A threatening howl was screamed into his face, striking fear into his soul. The beast was about to turn Cydadral limb from limb, until a silver sword pierced the heart. Cydadral was released as the wolf collapsed onto the floor. Ma'Doujh blinked, blood from his wounds dripping into his eyes. Khajiit bodies were not equipped to handle this. Doujh dropped to the floor, his soul climbing out and venturing to find a land of warm sands.

Cydadral bolted from the hell hole. His wounds still bleeding. He tried to think of something, anything! His mind was a scattered puzzle. However, he pieced together the memory of how he learned the healing spell. Equipping this knowledge, he casted the spell. His wounds slowly closed up as he felt his health regenerating. Torches roaming stone walls and sounds of hustling people trying to recover from the storm raged in front of Cydadral. People of Rorikstead were not ready for such storms. The alert appearance of Cydadral caused guards to turn heads. They started gathering around the poor kitten, asking all sorts of questions. Cydadral couldn't speak. Shock and adrenaline poisoned his veins. Or possibly, another type of substance was coursing through his body. Being a cat and so young, he would not be able to transform until later. And so a secret was kept with a lad.

"What are we going to do with him? There's blood on his shirt." A Guard whispered to the troop.

"Maybe his parents died in that nasty storm." Another replied.

"Then what do we do?"

"I have not a pinch of knowledge on the subject." "What about you?" "I know not, either." "Somebody needs to know" "You're not talking. What says you?"

" Honorhall Orphanage..." The final guard spoke up.