(Warning for my readers, I modified the lore a bit, especially concerning Ulfric's execution at Helgen, so be prepared! But don't worry, I made sure it doesn't conflict with the original game events!)
"W-what!?"
The stone's response was enough to shock me, causing me to step back. This was unknown territory to me, even for a Nord who had heard almost every story about the stones.
As the constellations carved into the stone interconnected, the space in the middle of the stone began to glow, quickly shooting a beam of light to the cloud-covered sky.
The stone had chosen me, somehow qualifying me as a warrior who could receive its blessings.
"I-I'm not imagining things right...?"
And I wasn't, although it was faint; I could feel the cold of the environment slowly no longer affecting me, as if my blood itself had begun to change.
Even my instincts were sharpened, making me feel every single snowflake that fell across the ground.
The feeling made me powerful, unbeatable, but undeniably concerned.
I never liked the feeling of being chosen by fate.
I hoped this was merely a coincidence.
"I should take a small break..."
Looking at the general direction of Winterhold, I decided it was my next destination before heading back to Windhelm. Immediately heading back would only risk freezing to death.
*** Winterhold ***
"Did you see that bright ray of light earlier!?"
Ranmir, the depressed drunkard, spoke out, speaking to Dagur, who looked like he could barely care about his mindless ramblings.
"You're just imagining things again, Ranmir."
The two were clearly talking about the Serpent Stone, the one that responded to me.
"Hm?"
Ranmir took a glance in my direction, seeing my Stormcloak equipment.
"Do you think he might be the one who caused it?"
Ranmir continued, Dagur clearly having had enough of it all.
"I think you've had too much to drink..."
Dagur pinched the bridge of his nose before returning to his inn. Business was slow in Winterhold, but it didn't mean he could just continue a conversation while leaving his inn.
I myself didn't take long; all I did was grab a simple bite to eat, enough to last the carriage ride back to Windhelm.
"What brings you here?"
Dagur spoke, wiping a beer mug. The inn itself was overwhelmingly silent; a conversation was the only reasonable thing to do.
"I was on a trial to join the Stormcloaks, now I'm here resting after a job well done."
"Then I congratulate you as a fellow kinsman."
I laugh warmly at his reply as I chug a mug of mead, the bonus I received from Torsten being more than enough to fund some indulgence once in a while.
"Thank you, I wish the best for this inn as well."
I look around the silent inn.
"Don't worry about it, Ranmir is more than enough as a customer."
He joked around, but deep inside, I could sense something off, likely the reason being Ranmir himself, but I didn't want to poke into other people's business.
Maybe in the future I could help.
"I see, good for you then."
As the conversation reached its end, so did my meal, and it made me realize how much time had already passed; it was already the dead of night outside.
"You should stay for the night, traveler."
Dagur suggested, seeing me just standing by the door frame with my arms crossed, even if I took the carriage, I would need to pay extra for the nightly travel.
"I suppose it wouldn't hurt."
I paid Dagur some gold as I headed towards my room, getting comfortable, for a small inn, it certainly was cozy.
"I wonder if Galmar thought I died..."
I laughed, before retiring for the night, while smelling something foul and strange coming from another room.
But I decided to ignore it; it wasn't my problem, nor was the innkeeper reacting to it; it was probably manageable.
"Hmm... I probably mixed up the ingredients."
A faint voice rang out from outside, the voice of Nelacar, an exiled mage from the College of Winterhold.
And that was enough to explain the smell.
'Just ignore it...'
I rolled over to protect my nose from the smell, drifting back to sleep once more as time passed.
*** 18th of Last Seed ***
As I woke up to another day, I heard faint murmurs from outside my room, something about... a dragon attack?
"Skyrim's gone to hell if any of that was true."
It was Dagur and his wife, Haran, both talking about dragons, creatures that have long disappeared in the face of Tamriel.
So why would they be talking about them?
"What's going on?"
I exited my room, already prepared to leave.
"Apparently, Helgen was attacked yesterday, even the Jarl of Whiterun is preparing his hold."
Even I was surprised at how fast the news had circulated, but it made sense. Whiterun was neutral territory; if anywhere could spread news about a dragon attack that quickly, it was there.
"I'll believe it when I see it."
I replied, Dagur mirroring my statement as I left the inn, prepared to take the carriage ride home.
*** Windhelm ***
As I left the carriage, the bridge of the city felt tense, even tenser than before.
Did the war go south? Or was there something else that caused the guards to be on high alert?
"You're back."
A Stormcloak guard nodded at me, his face a mixture of deep thought and disbelief.
"Say, you didn't happen to see any... large birds, did you?"
"If you're referring to dragons, then nothing of the sort."
"I see... just making sure."
I awkwardly nodded at the Stormcloak. It was a weird question to ask. Did a dragon really attack Helgen?
"Do you believe it...? Ulfric Stormcloak, saved by a dragon..."
As I continued to walk, I heard even more weird conversations between guards. What do they mean by Ulfric was saved by a dragon?
"Excuse me, but care to explain?"
The Stormcloaks looked at me strangely, but nodded; they couldn't blame me for acting confused.
And there they explained everything, how Ulfric and a couple of Stormcloaks went out to Darkwater Crossing for a small patrol, rallying more people to their cause, at least before they were captured by an imperial ambush.
I was in complete shock. How did that even happen in a single night? Regardless, I continued to listen.
And according to them, while Ulfric was about to be executed at Helgen right in the dead of night, a dragon attacked, giving him a chance to escape and return to Windhelm.
The conversation alone was enough to explain the guard's sudden jitters.
"Our break is almost over. Talk later, kinsman."
The two Stormcloaks left, leaving me alone, as I was left completely confused.
What the hell just happened while I was sleeping 'soundly' at Winterhold?