On our way to Whiterun, the journey felt almost peaceful—wide open plains, the wind brushing cold against our cheeks, the faint rustle of tundra grass swaying in waves. The wolves that ambushed us were barely warm-ups; Astrid moved with a sharp, fluid grace, her boots digging into the soil as she pivoted, blade gleaming. I followed up with bursts of Sparks, leaving the air crackling. Their howls faded quickly.
Along the road, I knelt to pluck Blue Mountain Flowers growing near a sun-baked rock. Their petals shimmered faintly in the breeze, and I gently stored them in my pouch. Handy for potions later.
In the distance, Whiterun's silhouette finally came into view—its wooden palisades and the towering shape of Dragonsreach perched high on the cliff like a proud sentinel. Seeing it always filled me with this strange mix of nostalgia and awe… even though I technically didn't belong to this world.
While we walked, Astrid kicked a pebble along the path, her expression relaxed. And then, curiosity tugged at me.
"Astrid… before you came here, who were you? Really?"
Her steps faltered. Just slightly—but enough. Her shoulders stiffened, her jaw tightening for a brief moment. She didn't look at me; her eyes darted forward as if suddenly fascinated by the empty road. Clearly uncomfortable.
Oops. Too personal.
Panicking internally, I cleared my throat and clumsily redirected. "Alright, alright—I'll go first. I'm… someone who craves adventure. I lived in Helgen… though I don't think I actually have any family there. Haha…"
Astrid narrowed her eyes, slowing her pace. "Why don't you have any family there?"
…Right. Of course she'd question that.
My palms got sweaty. I scratched the back of my neck, laughing weakly. "Well… yes and no. My head feels like it got hit pretty hard. Honestly, it feels like I was… reborn."
Astrid blinked. A small crease formed between her brows. "Reborn?"
Great. Now she looked at me like I'd swallowed a Frostbite Spider egg.
"I mean—reb—uh—"
And then, salvation appeared.
Ahead of us, dust rose into the sky. A booming thud echoed across the plains. I spotted a towering giant swinging its massive club at a group of warriors.
"Hey, look! Let's help them!" I yelled, practically sprinting before she could interrogate me further.
Thank the Nine. Perfect escape.
Electricity surged through my fingertips as I cast Sparks, the air hissing with each arc. I swear, I felt like Raiden for a second—minus the hat. Astrid charged ahead, boots pounding the earth, her longsword flashing. She slashed across the giant's leg with a clean, powerful strike that made the massive creature buckle with a pained roar.
I seized the opening. With a shout, I unleashed a focused burst of Sparks at its head, the smell of burnt flesh filling the air as the giant toppled with a thunderous crash that shook the ground beneath our feet.
I exhaled in relief. "Hey, you're pretty strong—cutting a giant's thick leg like that."
Before Astrid could reply, a confident female voice cut in from the side—smooth, commanding.
"You two are strong enough to steal our kill."
Oh no.
Aela the Huntress stepped forward, arms crossed, giving us that signature unimpressed-yet-intrigued stare. The sunlight caught the war paint on her cheek, and her red hair swayed slightly in the wind. Farkas loomed behind her, quiet but alert.
I swallowed. Hard. She was one of the strongest companions in the game… and also a marriage candidate. I wasn't a furry, but—look, she was objectively gorgeous, alright?
Aela tilted her head. "Impressive, considering your appearances. Maybe you'd be interested in joining the Companions."
I tried to sound relaxed. "Maybe another time. We're here to bring news about Helgen."
Aela nodded, flicking her braid back. "Very well. I'm Aela, and this is Farkas. Come find us if you're interested."
"Okay," I replied, trying not to stare too long.
Astrid nudged me in the ribs the moment they walked off, raising a brow.
I pretended not to notice.
At Whiterun's gate, the late-afternoon light cast long shadows across the wooden palisades. The wind carried the smell of hay, roasting meat from the market, and the distant clang of a blacksmith's hammer. A guard stepped forward, steel armor glinting.
"Halt." He raised a hand sharply. "Security of the city is tight right now. State your business."
I stepped closer, trying to keep my voice steady. "We bring news that a dragon is approaching Whiterun. Are you really going to delay us?"
At the word dragon, the guard's eyes widened, the color draining from his face.
"Dragon? …Fine. You may enter." His gaze flicked between us before he pointed with his spear. "But only one of you."
Huh?
I froze. That never happened in the game. But then again… in the game the Dragonborn arrives alone. Maybe the guards were trained to expect that.
"Astrid," I said with a sigh, "you should go. I'll take care of something else. Meet me later at the stable."
She made a face—arms crossing, brows pulling together. "Alright. Don't wander too far. You can't survive a second without me anyway."
Her tone was teasing, but something softer flickered in her eyes—something she quickly hid when the guard looked at her. She brushed past me, her shoulder lightly grazing mine longer than necessary, before heading through the gates.
What? I've beaten this game multiple times. And if she knew I'd eventually learn master-level spells, she'd be the one clinging to me.
Left alone, I stretched my arms. The evening breeze chilled my skin, and the whinny of horses from the nearby stable echoed faintly. Nothing left to do but train.
I focused on Sneak. With no instruments, no trainers, and… no guards paying attention to me outside the walls, manual practice was the only option. I practiced my footsteps, controlling my breathing, finding blind spots around rocks and fences.
Hours passed, and the sky darkened.
My Sneak ticked up from 15 to 20.
I also leveled twice thanks to the giant XP.
But all the grinding reminded me of something uncomfortable.
As I lay on some hay near the stable, staring up at the purple night sky of Skyrim, a thought crept in:
Should I separate from Astrid?
She was strong—maybe too strong. Maybe she didn't need me. I'd only slow her down.
The thought left a small, hollow ache in my chest. I tried to ignore it.
When Astrid finally returned, lantern light from the stable flickered across her face. Her hair was tousled by the mountain wind, and she looked determined—but the moment she saw me, her expression softened, almost relieved.
"Hey, Alex." She approached with quicker steps than necessary. "I've informed the Jarl about Helgen. It seems we're being sent to retrieve the Dragonstone from Bleak Falls Barrow, up in the mountains."
"Astrid…" I exhaled. "I think we should split up for now."
She blinked. Then her entire posture stiffened.
"Why, Alex? Are you scared?" She leaned closer, trying to search my eyes. "Don't worry," she said, forcing a smirk, "I'll protect you."
But the smirk didn't reach her eyes. There was something brittle in her voice—like she was trying too hard to make it sound like a joke.
"Hey, no." I waved my hands. "I just want to grind first. Maybe fate will bring us together again."
She stared at me. Confused. Hurt. Trying not to show it.
"Grinding…?" she murmured.
"Yeah. Training to get stronger."
For a long moment, she just stood there, silent. The lantern light flickered across her face, revealing subtle shifts—her jaw tightening, her fingers curling slightly, as if gripping something invisible. She looked away for a second, pretending to study the stable fence to hide the dip in her expression.
Then she inhaled deeply and faced me again.
"You're sure?" she asked quietly.
Not teasing. Not commanding. Just… uncertain.
I nodded. "Yes. And when fate brings us together again, I'll be far stronger than I am now."
She looked at me—really looked at me. Her eyes softened, the way frost melts under the morning sun. The corners of her lips lifted in a small, fragile smile she didn't usually show.
"Very well," she whispered. "I'll see your progress when we meet again."
She stepped closer—only a handspan away. Her fingers brushed my sleeve, then hesitated there, lingering before she pulled back.
"And when that time comes…" Her voice trembled, just barely. "I want us to spar. I want to see how strong you've become."
For a heartbeat, neither of us moved. The cool night air wrapped around us, and she looked like she wanted to say something else—but couldn't.
And so… we parted ways.
Astrid walked toward the road leading up the mountain. She didn't look back, but her shoulders were tense, and her steps slower than usual.
She was the Dragonborn—destined to take on Bleak Falls, skeletons, draugr, all of it. I didn't need to worry.
But as I watched her silhouette fade into the night, I couldn't shake the feeling that she would have preferred not to go alone.