As I continued my quest walking on Nords land, I was being named the very person I was searching for, the Psijic Order was searching for; Dragonborn. But our race do not crave for such effortless honor, the reason why I decided to join the Companions who were located in Whiterun, where honorable warriors of different races fight as one. My housecarl, Lydia, who was assigned to me by Jarl Balgruuf of Whiterun himself, supported my idea, my mission, probably even more than the entire Companions themselves.
I trusted her with my life, and I trusted myself for her life.
Kodlak Whitemane, Harbringer of the Companions sent me on another quest. We were to slay the witches of Glenmoril in their very own dungeon. I talked to Lydia about this dangerous task, knowing how Nords aren't as capable as we Altmers when it comes to dealing opponents who wield magic. She was stubborn of course, not letting me take the fight to them witches alone, I had no other choice but to bring a Nord I came to love with me.
If only I could turn back time.
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MY arrow pierced through the last of the witches, with Lydia standing over it, witch's blood dripping from the edge of the Elven mace I crafted for her. She turned to me with a slight chuckle, then leading me out of that very cave, throwing at me a bottle of Nord mead in celebration of another quest we succeeded with the help of one another.
We walked the road leading us back to Whiterun, talking about our battles against the Glenmoril witches which suprisingly proved to be just puny weaklings who couldn't even lay a scar on our armors. It was all smiles, all subtle chuckles before something, or someone, took my vision and lay a deafening race to Altmer blood.
It was them, the Thalmor, walking towards us with what we call the 'Altmer look' staring dead straight into the faces of me and my future soulmate. There were three of them, and I know this won't end up good if they knew who I was. They began to ramble about Gods, about Talos, neither of which I actually cared about. Like any Altmer would, I told them off. Even if I were to end up worshipping anyone, I do it to whoever I please.
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LYDIA tried to drag the other two Thalmor soldiers away from me while I kept my balance dodging bolts after bolts of lightning their presumably captain threw at me. Feeding him my dwarven arrows while at it. He was a good opponent until he yielded before me, such disgrace to the Altmer, I ended his life with another arrow to his heel.
I heard her screams, already kneeling to the ground in her desperate defence against the last Thalmor warrior whose strikes was very well deflected by her shield. I started running towards her, unsheathing my Elven blade, before I realised the other warrior already got back up on his feet, closing his distance to join his fellow Altmer in finishing Lydia for good.
I had no other choice, but to disgrace an Altmer's honor to save my beloved. I let my knowledge of the Thu'um sink into my mind once again, keeping both feet on the ground while I let this devastating shout out.
FUS-RO-DAH!
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I laid her body beside the river, under a shelter with a nearby Nirnroot plant laying peace onto her weary face. I placed her helm right beside her, in honor of her passion while it lasted. I should have known better than to blatantly use my untrained Thu'um in a desperate attempt to save her.
No, I should hold the Thalmor responsible for her death. I should hold the Greybeards responsible for accelerating my mastery of the Unrelenting Force without proper guidance on how to control it.
I promise you this, Lydia. When my mission is fulfilled, I will strike into the hearts of the Thalmor when I return to my lands. And before that,
I will lay waste to this rumored dragon who first taught the way of the voice to Humans and Mer alike.


HOW TERRIBLE!
