Luke Velaryon: The Last Dragonborn C12 (Patreon)

Chapter 12: Escaping Helgen Part VI

Unfortunately for Luke, that was not his last encounter with giant spiders that day.

As they continued deeper through the tunnels, they came across two more frostbite spider colonies hidden within side caverns and narrow passages. The only saving grace was that each nest was smaller than the last. By the time they reached the third colony, the largest spiders barely reached Luke's knees.

Spiders barely reaching his knees… being good news… Luke shook his head and slumped his shoulders.

He wiped the green blood from his blade with a scrap of cloth and deliberately looked away from the three dead spiders the size of rabbits lying nearby. The creatures' legs were still twitching.

This day could not be any longer or any stranger, from talking god-like dragons to magic and giant spiders.

At this point, he was almost afraid to ask what would happen next.

"You're getting better at killing the pests, cub." Ralof patted him on the shoulder.

Luke snorted.

"Are giant spiders common in Skyrim?"

"Underground?" Ralof asked. "Aye. Common enough."

Luke stared at him, and Ralof laughed, ruffling his hair. 

"And they're far from the worst thing you'll find."

Luke did not like the sound of that.

"Skyrim is an old land," Ralof continued as they resumed walking. "And old lands breed old monsters. If you plan on wandering the wilderness alone, you'll need to keep your eyes open and your weapon close at hand. The moment you lower your guard is the moment something decides you'd make a fine meal." 

"It can't be that bad."

"Oh, cub." Ralof barked a laugh. "It is."

The older Nord gestured vaguely toward the darkness around them.

"From childhood, the children of the sky are taught to respect the land and everything living upon it. It's a lesson that has saved countless lives over the generations. Every fool who ignored it eventually learned the same lesson the hard way."

"What kind of creatures are we talking about?"

"Bears. Wolves. Sabre cats. Giants. Trolls. Spriggans. Hagravens." Ralof counted on his fingers. "And that's just what comes to mind first."

“Noted.” Luke swallowed, his mind imagining all sorts of nighmareish creatures hiding in the dark.

They continued through the winding passage for several more minutes before a distant breeze brushed against Luke's face.

Fresh air, he realized.  The smell of pine trees and damp earth followed moments later.

"Almost there," Einar announced.

Luke could have kissed the man. After everything he had been through today, a chance to rest sounded like heaven. No more fights, no more monsters—at least for a day or two, all he wanted was to sleep, eat, and then sleep some more. And a bath. Definitely a bath. After everything that had happened, he had more than earned one. 

The tunnel widened into another cavern, and Luke’s relief lasted approximately one minute. As they entered the cavern, the first thing that reached him was the faint metallic scent of blood. Then he spotted four bears scattered throughout the cavern.

A large mother bear stood near the center of the cavern while three nearly grown cubs occupied the surrounding area. They had not noticed the group yet.

Luke looked at them in disbelief. Seriously? Couldn't he catch a break?

Silence hung in the air for a heartbeat. The Stormcloaks were just as tired; even the most battle-hungry among them was exhausted after a day like this.

"We have to clear the cavern before continuing," Ralof said.

"Aye," Einar agreed, stretching his neck. 

The mother bear reared onto her hind legs, and Luke just stared at the enormous bear for a second, hoping that his glare would make it vanish. It did not. 

"Gods..." he muttered in a flat tone. 

The bear roared and charged at them. With a roar of their own, the Stormcloaks surged forward to meet it.

Luke stepped back and reached for his bow. If there was one thing he had learned today, it was that standing directly in front of large angry animals was a terrible idea.

The mother bear slammed into Ralof's shield with enough force to send the Nord stumbling backward. One of the cubs rushed Einar while the remaining two split off toward the other Stormcloaks.

Luke nocked an arrow and fired.

The shaft struck one of the younger bears in the shoulder but the beast barely seemed to notice.

"Wonderful," Luke muttered before firing another arrow. 

The fighting grew chaotic and one of the Stormcloaks slipped on a patch of moss while retreating from a charging cub. His feet flew out from beneath him and he crashed onto his back.

The bear lunged with its jaws opened wide. The Stormcloak barely had time to raise an arm, and Luke's eyes widened. Without a moment's hesitation, he drew and loosed an arrow that shot straight into the bear's open mouth, causing the beast to jerk violently as the shaft punched through the back of its throat.

The bear staggered sideways, choking and roaring in pain instead of tearing into the fallen Nord.

Luke already had another arrow nocked, and before the bear could recover, he loosed three more shots in rapid succession; the second shaft buried itself deep in the creature's neck, the third pierced one of its eyes, and the fourth sank into its chest.

The wounded bear stumbled several more steps before finally collapsing with a heavy crash.

For a moment, Luke simply stared at the corpse. Then he realized everyone else was still fighting, and he immediately reached for another arrow.

By the time the battle ended, all four bears lay dead across the cavern floor. The Stormcloaks were bruised, scratched, and covered in blood, but alive.

Ralof glanced at the bear Luke had killed and let out a low whistle.

"That was a fine shot, cub."

"Aye." Einar nodded. "Right through the mouth."

Luke lowered his bow, his hands still trembling slightly, and shrugged.

"Luck."

One of the Stormcloaks barked a laugh and slapped him on the back a little too hard, nearly sending him stumbling forward. Luke thought his name was Kjen—or Kjer, something like that—but he was too embarrassed to ask.

"Maybe." The Nord grinned. "But that bit of luck saved my life. Thanks, lad."

Luke nodded awkwardly.

Another Stormcloak, whose name Luke had completely forgotten, gestured toward the dead bears.

"We should take the furs and butcher one of them before we leave. One bear alone will keep us fed all the way to Windhelm."

"No." Ralof shook his head.

The others looked at him.

"The people of Helgen need it more than we do." He rested a hand on the massive carcass of the mother bear. "Talos must have sent these beasts for a reason. The town has lost homes, livestock, friends, and family. Tonight, at least, they'll have meat in their bellies and furs to keep them warm."

Luke looked at the enormous bears. Even the smallest of them was larger than any bear he had ever seen. 

Back in Westeros, he had heard stories of great bears roaming beyond the Wall, and these creatures rivaled those tales. Between the four carcasses, there was enough meat to feed several thousand people for a meal.

After everything Helgen had suffered, a warm meal was a small comfort, but it was still a comfort. Letting the survivors go hungry after losing so much would have been cruelty piled atop tragedy.

The Stormcloak opened his mouth to argue, but Kjen—or was it Kjer?—spoke first.

"My kin lives in Helgen." He said. "If they survived the dragon, I'd rather they have meat on their bellies tonight."

"Aye." Einar nodded. "The forests of Skyrim are full of game, and we're Nords. We'll find something to eat before we reach Windhelm."

Several others voiced their agreement.

Ralof looked around the group and smiled.

"Then it's settled."

He pointed toward the tunnel on the opposite side of the cavern. A cool breeze drifted from the passage, carrying with it the scent of pine and open air.

"Let's move, brothers. We're almost out. The sooner we put distance between ourselves and the Imperial dogs, the better."

"Aye." One of the Stormcloaks spat onto the ground. "General Tullius would sooner chase us across half of Skyrim than help the people of his precious Empire."

Several others grunted in agreement.

They gathered their gear and made their way toward the tunnel. Less than two minutes later, they reached the exit, where the cave mouth opened onto the wilderness of Skyrim.

Luke stepped out and immediately drew a deep breath, savoring the fresh air—cold, clean, and sharp. For the first time since entering the keep two or three hours earlier, there was no stone ceiling pressing overhead, only the open sky stretching above him.

He lifted his eyes toward the horizon.

The sun was descending toward the mountains in the west, bathing the forests in shades of gold and amber. Night had not yet arrived, but it was close. Another hour, perhaps less, and darkness would cover the land.

The moons would rise soon after.

For a moment, Luke simply stood there, breathing in the scent of pine trees and damp earth as the evening wind brushed against his face. After everything that had happened over the past day or two, the sight of an ordinary forest felt comforting.

Then the memory of Ralof's description of Skyrim's wildlife returned, and with it, much of that comfort vanished.

"It's time to say goodbye, cub." 

***

Author’s Note: Bye HELLgen, surely Luke’s next adventures in Skyrim will be more peaceful, right?