Darkness.
That was all Thalia knew for a time. Cold and silent.
Then... sound. The creaking of wheels. The steady clop of hooves on stone. A rough, bitter wind brushing her face.
Her eyes snapped open.
Snow-capped pines. A mountainous horizon. The scent of pine and frost in the air. She was seated on a wooden cart, her hands bound in front of her. Three men shared the wagon with her. One wore blue Stormcloak armor and a scowl. Another was a horse thief, panicked and mumbling to himself. The third—quiet, bound and gagged—wore regal armor and a golden circlet.
Ulfric Stormcloak.
This is Skyrim, Thalia thought, shocked to find herself so grounded in the reality of it. The cold numbed her skin. Her heart raced—not out of fear, but anticipation.
She was truly here.
The cart bumped along the trail toward the walled town of Helgen. Thalia stayed quiet, observing. The Stormcloak, Ralof, muttered bitterly about the Empire. The thief beside her tried to plead with the guards. And all the while, the distant roar of a dragon echoed faintly across the mountains—unnoticed by everyone but her.
They passed through the gates.
"Why are we stopping?" the thief cried.
Ralof answered grimly, "Why do you think? End of the line."
The prisoners were ordered out one by one. Thalia stepped down onto the snow-packed dirt, hands still bound, heart pounding. When the captain asked for her name, Tet's influence sparked within her mind.
"No name on the list? She goes to the block," the captain ordered.
But the sympathetic Imperial scribe, Hadvar, interrupted. "Wait. She's just a girl. I'll take her. She'll go to the block… after Ulfric."
Thalia was shoved aside, placed near the chopping block, her gaze flickering across the courtyard. The execution began. A Nord knelt. The headsman raised his axe.
Then the sky split open.
Alduin descended in a blast of fire and storm, roaring as he landed on the watchtower.
Thalia didn't hesitate. She ducked into a nearby tower with Hadvar, following him through the chaos. She barely registered the panicked cries, the crashing stones, or the burst of flame behind her. She was in motion, moving on instinct.
They escaped through the tower's ruined side, jumping down into a burning inn. Thalia rolled, tucked into a crouch, and sprinted after Hadvar as he guided her through the city under siege.
They reached the keep.
"Follow me," Hadvar urged, cutting her binds. "Grab some gear."
She did. Donning light Imperial armor, a steel sword, and a shield, she tested their weight with ease.
---
The Depths of Helgen Keep
They moved through stone corridors filled with fallen beams and ash. Thalia fought her first real battle—an Imperial soldier turned traitor. Her sword clashed with his, and she parried, striking with precise brutality. Just like in real combat, she thought, impressed.
They faced more soldiers, then encountered frostbite spiders in a damp cavern. Their screeches made her skin crawl, but she slashed through them swiftly. Poison splattered on her bracers, but her inventory system—granted by Tet—allowed her to quickly down a potion of cure poison she'd found earlier.
Traps lined the halls beyond—a swinging blade trap, a spiked pit. She dodged them all, barely, muttering to herself, "Too close…"
They reached a bear sleeping in a den. Hadvar offered her a bow, but Thalia smirked.
"Watch this."
She drew her sword and crept up silently, then slashed the bear across the neck before it could rise. One hit. Done.
Hadvar blinked. "Remind me not to get on your bad side."
---
Bleak Falls Barrow
They reached Riverwood by nightfall. Hadvar introduced her to his uncle, Alvor, who offered her a bed and a warm meal.
But Thalia didn't rest.
With the Golden Claw quest active and a growing itch to test her limits, she headed for Bleak Falls Barrow the next day.
She battled bandits guarding the steps to the temple, then stepped inside.
Dust and ancient cobwebs covered the Nordic ruins. Draugr soon stirred from their crypts—undead warriors wielding ancient weapons and icy shouts. Thalia dodged and parried, her blade ringing in the echoing halls.
At one point, she triggered a trap—a floor plate loosed a volley of darts. She rolled forward, barely escaping with a scratch. "Right," she muttered. "Watch the floors."
She solved the puzzle of the rotating animal stones and entered deeper.
In the spider chamber, she faced a giant frostbite spider descending from the ceiling. She rolled away from its venom, slicing at its legs until it screeched and collapsed. She freed Arvel the Swift, only to watch him bolt away—before being torn apart by a Draugr in the next room.
"Idiot," she muttered, retrieving the Golden Claw from his corpse.
At the deepest point, she faced the Restless Draugr guarding the Word Wall.
It was a brutal duel. The creature swung a massive axe with undead strength. Thalia dodged, countered, and—after a heated exchange—plunged her sword into its chest, pinning it to the wall.
The wall pulsed. Glowing runes lit up, and a word carved itself into her mind:
FUS.
The first word of Unrelenting Force.
But when she tried to shout it... nothing.
Confused, she frowned. "Why won't it work?"
> Shout Not Unlocked: No Dragon Soul Acquired.
She sighed. "Figures. Nothing ever comes easy."
She pocketed the Dragonstone, returned to Riverwood, and stored it safely in her inventory—another Tet-granted perk.
And as the sun dipped low over the mountains, Thalia Grace—once a pine tree—smiled.
She was alive.
She was strong.
And this was only the beginning