Skyrim: Became Dovahkiin

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Author's Note: {I made a mistake. It turns out it's not autumn in Tamriel right now, but spring. Specifically, February. I roughly estimated how long John's journey took.}

On the 17th of the month of First Seed.

The air was filled with freshness, as if spring itself whispered of its arrival. The snow in some corners of Skyrim had already melted, giving way to the first greenery that slowly but surely pushed through the earth. Sunbeams, gentle and warm, brought life to everything around, and the melodic singing of birds spread through the surroundings, reaching the ears of travelers.

The party moved unhurriedly, making their way to Ivarstead—a small village at the foot of the Throat of the World. This place attracted pilgrims dreaming of overcoming the seven thousand steps to the summit of the sacred mountain, or at least looking at it to feel its grandeur. The Throat of the World is Skyrim's most revered landmark, a place where time and space seem to lose their power.

"Ah, almost there," John yawned, stroking his horse's neck.

His companions were silent, each lost in their own thoughts. In front walked Jenassa, a dark-skinned elf with crimson eyes that carefully scanned the area for danger. Her black hair fluttered in the wind, and her leather armor tightly hugged her figure, emphasizing her agility and grace.

Behind her followed Lydia, clad in steel armor that looked as natural on her as her pristine white skin, which was slightly pink on her cheeks from the cool wind. Her black hair, short and neat, framed her face, and her velvety eyes exuded kindness despite her stern appearance.

John walked next, his face hidden under an iron helmet, leaving only his sea-green eyes and a nose with a barely noticeable hump visible. His armor, simple and reliable, was scarred with traces of recent battles, a reminder that the Dovahkiin's path was that of a warrior.

Bringing up the rear was Uthgerd, her tanned face with red hair tied in a ponytail, expressing readiness for any threat. Several strands escaped from under her helmet, slightly obstructing her view, but this did not diminish her warlike appearance. A scar crossing her cheek only added to her charisma, emphasizing her strength and determination.

"Ivarstead soon," John thought, "and there, at the inn, I can rest a bit. These endless journeys are exhausting, but what can you do—the plot requires movement. Although... I'm still depressed by the lack of a smartphone. Every morning I instinctively reach for it, but then I remember that there are no such things here. No social networks, no messengers, not even music in headphones. Just me, my companions, and this endless, dangerous world."

His gaze slid to the upper right corner, where, as in a video game, the current level was displayed.

**Level 10.**

"Not bad, but not perfect either," he mused. "Bleak Falls Barrow wasn't easy, but the mercenaries helped. And the dragon... that dragon increased my blocking, one-handed, and light armor skills. Being slammed into the ground by a fire-breathing monster isn't the most pleasant feeling, but it turned out to be useful for leveling up."

John's thoughts returned to the recent potion that had saved his life. "The effect was amazing," he recalled. "Although that alchemist didn't specify exactly how much my stats would increase. Strange, but that feeling... it was familiar. As if I had experienced something similar before."

A burning sensation, like lava spreading through his veins, flashed in his memory. "Yes, that was in Helgen..."

The group continued their journey, leaving tracks on the damp ground. Ahead of them lay Ivarstead, and beyond that, new challenges.

"I'll reach Ivarstead soon, and from there it's a stone's throw to the Greybeards. But I don't know how high the Throat of the World is. Comparable to Everest or half its size? It will be extremely inconvenient to move. On the way to Ivarstead, I'll figure something out to minimize effort during the ascent."

In his previous life, John had been on a few trips with acquaintances and completed Grade 3 difficulty routes. At such a level, tourists need excellent preparation, both physical and material. Memories of his past life brought tears to John's eyes. His entire past life had vanished in an instant, and he hadn't even realized it. Overwhelming feelings flooded the young man's head. A lump formed in his throat.

His chest began to burn from the overflow of emotions. His hands trembled with relentless force. John was losing control of his body again. His body tilted to the right and slipped from the horse's saddle.

Slap!

A hand in an iron gauntlet supported the Dovahkiin. Slowly looking up, he saw Uthgerd. Her eyes expressed concern. The helmet prevented him from seeing her full expression, but one thing was clear: she was worried about her companion and boss.

"Feeling unwell?" Uthgerd asked concisely.

"I'm fine." John regained his composure in an instant.

"You don't look it."

"No, I'm fine." The young man brushed off Uthgerd the Unbroken's words.

In response, the Nord woman merely grunted and moved back to her position at the rear of the party. She didn't fully understand the situation. But if the patron says it's fine, then it's fine. There's nothing to think about.

"I have my own ideas about this."

And indeed, he did have suspicions. But not very good ones.

---

### Evening. Camp

The night air was somewhat damp. Darkness embraced all of Skyrim. Yellow fireflies slowly moved from place to place. Herbivores stopped looking for food and dispersed to their corners. Predators, meanwhile, prowled the surroundings, trying to find lost travelers or weak mammals. A saber-toothed tiger slowly approached the camp with its burning campfire. Its soft paw pads muffled the sound of its steps.

Its yellow eyes reflected the firelight. Around the fire were several people: three women and a man in iron armor. The sabre-tooth wanted to attack, but something stopped it. There were four enemies. Moreover, the man especially bothered it. A powerful aura emanated from him. The predator's instinct warned it, and it quietly backed away. When the distance became safe, the beast quickly fled in the opposite direction.

John sat by the fire, watching the flickering flames. Uthgerd and Lydia were setting up camp. They pulled portable sleeping bags, four tents, food, water in glass bottles, and other items from their bags. Jenassa had finished surveying the area. She had set several traps around, just in case. Approaching the campfire, she sat down next to John.

The firelight reflected in her red eyes. Her stern, blue-tinged face relaxed slightly. Her angular features with prominent cheekbones. Her light armor didn't hinder her sitting. She was completely alien to John. Unlike in the game, she didn't have any war paint on her face.

The young man took off his helmet and placed it on his knees. He had never been so lost in thought. What awaited him next? What should he do now? How would everything turn out? Would he be able to defeat Alduin and other villains? Would he become Hermaeus Mora's champion and remain forever in Apocrypha among the books? Was it possible to return to his own world? It was all so complex and unclear.

Her ruby-colored eyes noticed John lost in thought. John's brow furrowed, and his gaze stared into emptiness. Jenassa, out of curiosity, started a conversation.

"So. What's bothering you?"

"Huh? You're here." He had only just noticed her. "Sorry, I didn't see you. I can't tell you directly about it."

"Tell me in another way. Keeping all your worries inside is very bad. Otherwise, the mask of serenity will crack on your face," the Dunmer woman said calmly.

"You... Jenassa, you're right."

"Naturally. After all, I'm a little older than you and I've seen a lot." A smile appeared on her face.

"Of course." John relaxed his shoulders and sighed. "You see. I'm not sure about the future. What if I can't handle a strong enemy and die in some cave? Before this, we met strong opponents. The undead at Bleak Falls Barrow, for example. Especially the chief draugr proved to be too dangerous. Only thanks to my quick thinking were we able to defeat him."

"You're right. They were strong opponents, but by no means invincible. In the end, we emerged alive from those ruins, and that means something." She gestured actively with her hands. "Moreover. When the dragon appeared, you were able to overthrow him."

"Yes, but..."

"There's no room for doubt. You were able to defeat a dragon, who is considered to have the power of a demigod. Akatosh himself created them. And besides. You are Dovahkiin. Your ability to absorb their souls is already too powerful. Perhaps you will become much stronger than you are now."

"Yes, indeed." The young man nodded and smiled. "I can do it. We can do it."

"Excellent. Sometimes, it's very necessary to lift a comrade's spirits."

"Thank you."

John chuckled slightly. He looked at Jenassa with a smile. The dark elf merely nodded and continued to look at the fire.

"You know. You and I are somewhat alike." Her voice held a hint of amusement.

"Yes..."

The young man fell silent. Adventures in this world were much harder. Travel was difficult. Threats came from many places. Be it the forest, city, or village. Wild animals, bandits, dragons, undead, evil mages, the Thalmor, Imperials, Stormcloaks, Harkon, Miraak, Alduin. Navigating by stars was impossible based on knowledge from his past world. Fortunately, Farengar briefly explained general information about constellations and moons.

People had their own mentality. John noticed that most Nords disliked, or even hated, magic. In the game, there were dialogue lines about magic. Moreover. Mages had caused Nords a lot of problems. The Wolf Queen alone was a testament to that. She destroyed many people. Nords had reasons to hate magic and everything associated with it. Unfortunately, they couldn't know that Nirn, Oblivion, and even they themselves were made of magic.

To clear his head of unnecessary thoughts, John pulled out his magic books. Learning magic wasn't easy. His fingers turned the yellow, slightly aged pages. The most important thing was to correctly learn how to create spells and understand how they worked. The Dragonborn enjoyed studying magic. It seemed that from knowledge, he magnified the power of spells. But that was just a feeling.

Page after page. The young man thoughtfully read every word. Time passed. The fire was dying down, and the rest of the team had gone to bed. John and Uthgerd remained on watch. Uthgerd tried to keep a closer eye out. John, meanwhile, slowly mastered new destruction spells.