Freyja stood in the middle of the open field, gripping the wooden training sword tightly. Across from her, her grandfather stood, his posture relaxed, but his eyes sharp. He twirled his own training sword with ease before tossing another to her. She caught it in midair, the worn handle fitting perfectly in her hand. "Remember when you were a little girl?" he said, stepping forward slowly. "You'd always beg me to come out here and tell you stories about your father. Stories of how he was a great hero."
Freyja rolled her shoulders, adjusting her grip. "I remember," she said. Her voice was calm, but there was a challenge in her stance.
Her grandfather smiled faintly and raised his sword. "Let's see how much you've learned."
Freyja didn't hesitate. She darted forward, swinging her sword toward his side. Her movements were quick, her feet light on the uneven ground.
He blocked easily, the clash of their swords sending a dull thud through the air. Twisting his wrist, he redirected her strike and pushed her back a step.
She adjusted, ducking low and aiming for his legs. Her grandfather stepped back, lifting his sword in a defensive arc that caught her blade before it could make contact. He spun it downward, locking her sword against his and pressing her back further.
"Your footwork's better," he said, his tone casual. "But you're telegraphing too much."
Freyja didn't respond. She planted her back foot and twisted her body, breaking the lock and slashing upward in one fluid motion. Her grandfather leaned back just in time, the tip of her blade missing his chest by inches. He retaliated with a downward strike aimed at her shoulder. Freyja raised her sword, catching his blade and sliding it off to the side. She stepped into his space and aimed for his ribs, but he turned sharply, using the flat of his sword to redirect her strike once again.
"You're getting predictable," he said as he stepped around her, creating distance.
Freyja narrowed her eyes and adjusted her stance. She feinted a low strike, baiting him into a defensive block, before shifting her weight and slashing toward his arm.
This time, her sword grazed his sleeve.
"Better," he said, stepping back with a slight nod.
She pressed her advantage, lunging forward and aiming a quick series of strikes at his chest and shoulders. Her grandfather blocked each one. With a sharp twist of his wrist, he deflected her final strike and brought his sword down in a controlled arc toward her head. Freyja ducked, rolling to the side and coming up with her sword ready. She slashed upward, forcing him to leap back to avoid the blade.
"Quicker than I expected," he admitted, shifting his stance.
Freyja didn't give him a chance to recover. She stepped in, her sword a blur as she alternated her strikes—high, low, left, right. Her grandfather moved like a seasoned warrior, blocking and parrying each strike, but his footwork began to slow under her relentless attacks.
Finally, she saw an opening. She stepped into his guard, twisting her sword upward in a controlled arc. The movement knocked his sword from his hand, sending it spinning to the ground.
Her grandfather looked at the fallen weapon, then back at her. His face softened, and he gave a faint smile.
"Do you know what you'd ask me after every one of those stories?" he asked, his voice steady despite the fight.
Freyja straightened, her breathing heavy but even. She tightened her grip on the sword, meeting his gaze with a bright smile.
"Teach me how to be a hero," she said.
Her grandfather's smile widened. He glanced down at the wooden sword on the ground and then back at her. "You'll do me proud," he said quietly. "I know you will."
And with that, the dream faded, leaving only silence.
...
Freyja woke with a sharp gasp, her chest rising and falling as though she'd just finished a fight. Her hands gripped the edge of the bed, her knuckles white as her body trembled. Sweat dripped down her face and soaked into the thin blanket tangled around her legs. She stared at the floorboards, her breathing heavy. The dream still lingered in her mind—the field, the clashing swords, her grandfather's face. His words echoed.
You'll do me proud. I know you will.
Her jaw tightened, her teeth pressing together as she forced the memory back. She hated those dreams. They always came when she least expected them, dredging up a past she wanted to forget.
She ran a hand through her damp hair, pulling it back from her face. Her fingers shook slightly, and she clenched them into a fist to stop the trembling.
Her grandfather had been everything to her. He'd raised her, taught her to fight, told her stories that made her believe the world was full of heroes and honor. But it wasn't true. The world was harsh, and people like him had been wrong to fill her head with those lies. Freyja stood, her movements stiff as she kicked the blanket off the bed and reached for her clothes. The small room in the inn was dim, the weak morning light slipping through the cracks in the shutters. She dressed quickly, pulling on her tunic and pants, tightening the straps of her belt and checking her dagger.
Her hands moved on autopilot, her mind still circling the dream. She hated how those memories made her feel—conflicted, weak, and far too vulnerable.
Once she was ready, she grabbed her pack and slung it over her shoulder, taking a deep breath to steady herself. The past was done. Whatever promises her grandfather had made, whatever stories he'd told, they didn't matter anymore.
There was only the present, and Freyja had no time to waste dwelling on things that couldn't be changed.
__________________________
The morning sun crept over the horizon, casting long shadows across Riverwood. Tsun adjusted the layers of his cloak and robes, making sure every inch of his skin was covered. He turned back toward the small house behind him. Carmilla stood at the doorway, her face flushed, a sheepish smile playing on her lips. She leaned heavily against the frame, one hand gripping the edge for support.
"You're leaving already?" she asked, her voice soft and laced with something between exhaustion and satisfaction.
Tsun grinned, adjusting the scarf around his neck. "It's morning. I need to get going."
Carmilla laughed lightly, though it ended with a wince as she shifted her weight. "Thank you for last night... for saving me, and for comforting me after."
"I aim to please," Tsun said, his grin widening before he gave her a nod and turned to leave.
As he walked through the village, the streets were quieter than they had been the day before. The stench of decay was still heavy in the air, but fewer people moved about, likely conserving their energy for the bitter cold. Tsun kept his pace steady, his hood pulled low, until a voice called out.
"Thank you!"
He turned his head slightly to see an older man waving at him, his wrinkled face breaking into a wide smile. A few others nearby glanced over, their expressions softening as they noticed Tsun.
"You fed us yesterday," the man said, his tone filled with gratitude. "We won't forget it."
Tsun nodded, acknowledging the thanks but saying nothing. He resumed his walk, but as he passed, more people began to recognize him. A woman handed him a small cloth bundle of something—he didn't check what it was—while a child tugged on his cloak and whispered a quiet "thank you."
It was strange, this sudden attention. He wasn't used to it, and for a moment, he felt an odd tug of... something. Was it pride? Fulfillment? He shook the thought away and kept moving. But he did make a promise that he would come back and improve things here when he could, right now he only had his body and he needed power in other aspects. Gold, magic, followers, he would get those in spades.
When he reached the meeting point, he stopped, scanning the area. Freyja wasn't there, but his senses tingled, alerting him to something incoming. Without thinking, his hand shot up, catching a small object midair.
He turned around to see Freyja standing a few feet away, her arms crossed and a neutral expression on her face.
"Are you done saving damsels?" she asked, her tone flat but edged with faint amusement.
Tsun glanced at the apple in his hand and grinned. "Two for two so far. Pretty good track record, don't you think?"
Freyja scowled, pushing herself off the building she'd been leaning against. She adjusted her gear, tightening the straps of her pack before jerking her head toward the road.
"We've got a long walk ahead of us," she said. "Let's go."
Tsun chuckled, tossing the apple into the air before taking a bite. "Lead the way."
Tsun and Freyja walked along the narrow dirt road leading away from Riverwood. The path twisted through the dense forest, patches of sunlight breaking through the canopy. The only sound for a while was the crunch of their boots on the gravel and the faint rustle of wind in the trees.
Freyja's silence didn't last long. She shot him a sideways glance, her brow furrowed. "You really think what you did back there made a difference?"
Tsun glanced at her but didn't answer immediately.
"You fed a few people for a day," Freyja continued, her tone sharper. "They'll go hungry again tomorrow. You didn't change anything for them."
Tsun adjusted his cloak and shrugged. "I gave them something they needed right then. A meal, a little hope. That's not nothing."
Freyja stopped, turning to face him. "Hope doesn't keep people alive, Tsun. Food does. Warmth does. Shelter does. One meal isn't enough."
Tsun paused too, meeting her gaze. His expression remained calm. "Kindness breeds kindness," he said simply. "When you show people compassion, it sticks with them. Maybe they'll remember it when they're in a position to help someone else."
"That's naive," Freyja snapped. "This world doesn't work like that. People don't pay kindness forward—they take what they can get and move on. They're too busy trying to survive."
Tsun tilted his head, his voice steady. "If everyone thought that way, the world would never get better."
Freyja scowled, crossing her arms. "You think you made the world better with one meal? That those people are suddenly going to rise above their misery because you handed them food?"
"No," Tsun said firmly. "But it's a step. A small one, sure, but better than doing nothing. Better than walking past them like they don't matter."
Freyja's jaw tightened, but she didn't respond right away. Her grip on her sword hilt shifted, her knuckles pale.
Tsun continued walking. "You can't save everyone, Freyja. I know that. But you can help the ones in front of you. That's enough for me."
Freyja followed after him, her expression unreadable. She didn't say anything else, but the tension between them lingered. The quiet was however broken by the sound of growling ahead. Tsun and Freyja both looked up, spotting a group of wolves circling two travelers farther down the road. One wolf lunged, snapping at the man's leg, while the others barked and growled, hemming them in.
Freyja drew her sword quickly and got into a fighting stance. Two of the wolves broke away from the group, charging toward her and Tsun.
Tsun stepped forward, his cloak billowing slightly as he glared at the approaching wolves. His presence shifted, and a wave of something cold and sharp radiated from him. It wasn't visible, but the wolves froze mid-charge. Their growls turned to whimpers, their tails tucking between their legs. The rest of the pack noticed and stopped their assault, backing away from the travelers. One by one, the wolves turned and bolted into the forest, disappearing into the shadows without a sound.
Tsun exhaled, his expression relaxing as the tension faded.
The travelers hurried over, their faces pale but grateful. "Thank you," the man said, his voice trembling. "We thought we were done for."
Tsun waved them off. "Don't mention it."
The woman nodded, clutching the man's arm as they quickly continued down the road.
Freyja sheathed her sword, her gaze lingering on Tsun. "You didn't even lift a finger," she muttered.
"They got the message," Tsun said with a small shrug, continuing on.
...
As they crested a hill, the city of Whiterun came into view. The walls loomed high and sturdy, surrounding the main city with its clustered stone and wooden buildings. The castle, Dragonsreach, sat perched on a hill at the city's center, its tall towers visible even from a distance. The sunlight gleamed off the roofs, giving the city an almost golden hue. But the illusion of beauty was ruined as Tsun's eyes drifted downward. Surrounding the walls was a sprawling shanty town. Makeshift shelters made of scrap wood, tattered cloth, and broken barrels crowded together. Smoke from small fires rose into the air, mingling with the stench of unwashed bodies and rot.
"Skyrim is a bit of a shithole," Tsun said abruptly.
Freyja looked at him, startled, before a laugh escaped her. It was short and sharp, but genuine. "It certainly is," she said, shaking her head.
Tsun and Freyja stood staring down at the uneven slope that stretched before them. The actual path wound far off to the left, a longer but safer route, but Freyja insisted the direct way would save them time.
"It's steep," Tsun said, glancing at her.
"We'll manage," Freyja replied, already starting the descent.
The climb down was rough. Loose rocks slid under their boots, the uneven ground forcing them to grab onto tree roots and small boulders to keep steady. Freyja moved ahead but stumbled more than once, her footing uncertain. At one point, her boot caught on a rock, and she pitched forward with a sharp gasp. Tsun's hand shot out, grabbing her arm and pulling her back upright.
"You seem distracted today," he said, his grip steady before letting go.
"I'm fine," Freyja snapped, brushing herself off. She turned to keep going but paused, her shoulders slumping slightly. "Sorry," she muttered after a moment. "I just... had a bad dream."
Tsun stepped over a patch of loose gravel. "Want to talk about it?"
"No," she said quickly, her voice firm.
They climbed down a little farther in silence before she spoke again, her tone quieter now. "When I was younger, I used to dream about being a hero. My grandfather told me I could be one. He filled my head with stories about bravery, honor, and people standing up for what was right. He made me believe in all of it."
Tsun glanced at her, his expression neutral. "What happened?"
She stopped for a moment, looking at the ground. "He lied," she said, her voice hard. "There are no heroes. There were none when my father and mother were taken. None when a group of raiders burned down my village."
Tsun didn't respond right away. He reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Heroes do exist," he said quietly.
Freyja didn't reply, her expression unreadable as she pulled away and continued down the slope. After a while they finally reached the bottom of the hill, stepping onto flatter ground near a farm. The fields stretched out before them, the crops sparse and withered from the harsh winter. Freyja pointed toward a narrow path cutting through the property, but before they could start, a distant roar echoed through the air.
The ground shook slightly, the sound of heavy footsteps growing louder.
"That can't be good," Tsun said, his head turning toward the noise.
Without waiting, he started running toward the sound, Freyja following close behind.
Tsun and Freyja rounded the corner and came into view of the fight. The giant stood in the middle of a farm, its club raised high. It swung down with a heavy crack, smashing a wooden cart into pieces. Its size was immense, towering over the people trying to stop it.
A man in heavy armor held a thick chain wrapped around one of the giant's legs. He dug his boots into the dirt, his muscles straining as he tried to hold the beast in place. A woman with dark hair and a shield darted in and out of its reach, slashing at the tendons in its legs with her sword. She moved low, avoiding its swings while aiming at its legs. Farther back, another woman stood with a bow. Her red hair was tied back, and her arms were steady as she pulled the string and released an arrow. The arrow struck the giant's shoulder, embedding deep into the flesh. It let out a loud roar, stumbling for a moment before regaining its footing.
The shielded woman shouted something to the others, her voice sharp and commanding. She raised her shield just in time to deflect a swipe from the giant's massive hand, the impact forcing her to skid back through the mud.
The red-haired archer loosed another arrow, this one striking the giant in the chest. It growled and swung its club in her direction, the blow missing but sending dirt and rocks flying. The man holding the chain tried to pull it tighter, but the giant's strength was too much. The chain snapped with a loud crack, and the giant immediately swung its club downward, hitting the shielded woman square in the chest. She flew through the air, landing hard on the ground and rolling several times before stopping.
The giant roared again, turning toward the archer. It charged, each step shaking the ground, its club raised high.
Tsun grabbed a small rock from the ground, rolling it in his hand for a second before throwing it with force. The rock flew fast, striking the giant in the temple. The impact made the creature pause and turn toward him.
Tsun clapped his hands, disappearing from where he stood and reappearing in front of the giant's face. His leg shot up in a powerful kick, striking the giant's jaw. The sound of breaking bone echoed as the giant's head snapped back. It staggered for a moment before collapsing to the ground with a heavy thud, shaking the earth as it landed unconscious. Tsun landed on his feet, brushing dust from his hands.
The red-haired archer lowered her bow, walking toward him. Her face was streaked with dirt, and her eyes were sharp. "What in Sovngarde's name was that?" she asked, her voice loud and direct.
The man in armor dropped the chain and walked over as well. His breathing was heavy, his chest rising and falling as he spoke. "You just took down a giant like it was nothing. Who are you?"
The dark-haired woman pushed herself to her feet, limping slightly as she approached. She leaned on her shield for a moment before speaking. "I don't think we've seen anyone fight like that before," she said.
Tsun glanced at Freyja, who stood off to the side, watching silently. He looked back at the group. "Just passing through," he said simply.
The man in armor clapped him on the shoulder with a heavy hand. "Well, you're passing through the right place. That was something to see."
The red-haired woman grinned, her teeth showing. "You've got the strength of a bear. We could use someone like you."
The dark-haired woman shook her head, wiping the blood from the edge of her sword. "He was a few moments away from killing me, I definitely owe you a mug of mead."
Tsun raised a hand. "I'm not looking to join anything. Just helping where I can."
Freyja stepped forward, her arms crossed. "This is Tsun," she said, her tone flat. "He has a habit of sticking his nose into trouble."
"And you?" the red-haired woman asked, her bow slung over her shoulder. "Who are you?"
"Freyja," she replied. "Just trying to get to Whiterun."
The man in armor laughed, a deep, booming sound. "Whiterun, huh? Few travellers ever come here anymore."
The dark-haired woman smirked. "You two are an odd pair. But I like odd pairs."
"Are you mercenaries?" Freyja asked, looking at their gear and the way they moved.
The red-haired woman nodded. "You could say that. Companions, technically. We take on work when it comes, and today's work happened to be this big bastard." She nudged the unconscious giant with her boot.
The man in armor folded his arms. "You handled yourself well. You'd fit right in with us, Tsun."
Tsun shook his head. "I'm not looking for a group."
The dark-haired woman raised an eyebrow. "Pity. You'd be a good addition..." she said looking him up and down.
Freyja looked between them, her expression unreadable. "We should go," she said after a moment.
The man nodded. "Fair enough. Thanks for the help. If you ever need work, come find us in Whiterun, I am Farkas, and this is Aela, and Ria," he said pointing to the red-headed bowman and the shield-maiden respectively.
Tsun gave a small nod before turning to follow Freyja down the road. The Companions stayed behind, their voices carrying faintly on the wind as they continued to talk about what had just happened. Tsun caught pieces of their conversation—admiration, curiosity, and the occasional burst of laughter. The thought of the three strangers lingered as he and Freyja walked.
The road ahead stretched long, winding through sparse fields. The air was cool, carrying the faint smell of pine and damp earth. Tsun found his thoughts wandering back to the fight. The red-haired archer had his full attention. Her armor clung to her, showcasing her tight ass and big tits. He couldn't help but stare at her strong thighs, wondering how they'd feel wrapped around him. His thoughts wandered further, a smirk forming as he wondered if the carpet matched the drapes. The thought made him chuckle out loud, a laugh that was cut short when Freyja, nearby, snapped at him, "Stop laughing like an idiot."
But the dark-haired shield bearer gnawed at his thoughts. She had taken a direct hit from the giant's club—a blow that should have crushed her—and yet she had stood back up. Tsun hadn't missed the sound of her bones snapping and then shifting back into place. It wasn't normal. If he didn't know better, he'd think she was something like him, something beyond human. The idea made him uneasy, though he couldn't pinpoint why.
"I really should've played the damn game," he muttered, shaking his head.
"What?" Freyja asked, glancing at him.
"Nothing," he replied, falling silent again as they walked.
The dirt path eventually leveled out, opening up into rolling hills and farmland. The dense forest thinned, replaced by patches of tilled earth and wooden fences. Tsun noticed the guards first—men in steel armor stationed along the road at regular intervals. They carried swords and shields, their eyes sharp as they watched travelers and carts pass by.
Farther ahead, a group of ragged-looking refugees was being turned away at the main gate. A pair of guards gestured for them to leave, their voices firm but not raised. The refugees hesitated before shuffling away, their belongings slung over their backs in small, tattered bundles.
"Why so many guards?" Tsun asked, his eyes lingering on the group being turned away.
"They're here to keep the refugees out," Freyja said. "And to stop them from robbing traders."
Tsun frowned. "Seems heartless to leave them out here."
"It's not about being heartless," Freyja said, her tone matter-of-fact. "Whiterun can't support that many people. They'll destroy the city if they all get in."
Tsun didn't argue, but the thought lingered. He'd seen enough suffering in Riverwood to know how desperate people could become. Turning them away from shelter and safety felt like condemning them to a slow death. But Freyja had a point. If the city allowed everyone in, it might collapse under the weight of so many mouths to feed. It was an ugly choice, but perhaps a necessary one.
They approached the main gate, a heavy wooden structure reinforced with iron. Two guards stepped forward to block their path, their shields raised slightly.
"What business do you have in Whiterun?" one of them asked.
Freyja reached into her pouch and pulled out a small wooden seal. She held it up, and the guard studied it briefly before nodding to his companion.
"Open the gate," the guard called out.
The massive doors groaned as they swung open, revealing the city beyond. Freyja stepped through, and Tsun followed, glancing back as the guards resumed their posts.
"What was that?" Tsun asked, nodding toward the seal in Freyja's hand.
"Proof that I'm a with the Jarl," she said. "Only traders and residents are allowed inside without trouble. You can apply for day passes, but those are rare."
Tsun nodded slowly. "Keeps the crowd manageable," he said.
"Exactly," Freyja replied.
As they walked inside, the difference was immediate. Whiterun was clean, far cleaner than anything Tsun had seen so far in Skyrim. The streets were swept, the buildings well-maintained with sturdy wooden beams and clean stone foundations. Merchants called out from their stalls, offering bread, weapons, and everything in between.
The air smelled of freshly baked goods, mingling with the faint tang of iron from the smithy. The people looked healthier, their clothes in better condition, their movements steady and purposeful.
Tsun slowed his pace, taking it all in. It was such a stark contrast to the desperation outside the gates that it almost didn't feel like the same world.
Freyja grabbed his arm, pulling him forward. "You can look around later," she said. "We need to see the Jarl."
They navigated through the crowded streets, weaving past merchants and townsfolk. The market square was alive with activity, voices blending into a steady hum. Occasionally, Tsun caught sight of a beggar sitting in the shadows of a building, their hands outstretched in silent pleas. But they were quickly taken away by guards and thrown out of the city. After nearly two hours of walking, they reached the Cloud District. It was at the highest point in the city, surrounded by a stone wall and heavily guarded. The houses here were larger, with polished wood and neatly tended yards. The streets were quieter, the people fewer but dressed in finer clothes.
"This is the Cloud District," Freyja said. "Where the wealthy live."
At the center of the district sat the largest building—a hall with tall wooden doors and guards stationed at the entrance. Freyja showed her seal again, and they were let inside.
The interior was warm, the smell of roasted meats and sweet fruits filling the air. Tables lined the hall, overflowing with food and drink. People sat together, talking and laughing, their voices echoing off the high wooden beams.
"Freyja!"
The sharp voice drew their attention to a dark elf approaching quickly. She wore light armor, her stride steady as she reached them.
"Irileth," Freyja said, stepping forward to clasp arms with her.
"We thought you were dead," Irileth said, her voice steady but carrying a hint of relief.
"I almost was," Freyja replied, glancing back at Tsun. "If not for a wanderer." She gestured toward him. "This is Tsun."
Tsun pulled back his hood now that the sunlight was gone. His sharp features drew Irileth's attention immediately.
"Well met," she said, giving him a nod.
"Likewise," Tsun replied simply.
Irileth motioned toward the steps. "Come. The Jarl is expecting you."
They passed through the hall, moving between tables where people ate and drank. Guards stood at intervals, their eyes scanning the room. The noise of the feast faded as they entered a smaller room off to the side.
Inside, a man in hooded robes stood at a desk, his focus on a stone tablet. Beside him, a woman in leather armor with her hood up stood silently, her arms crossed.
"Farengar," Irileth called sharply.
The man looked up, his expression brightening when he saw Freyja. "You're back!" he said, crossing the room quickly. "Did you find it?"
Freyja pulled the stone tablet from her pack and handed it to him. "Here," she said curtly.
Farengar took it eagerly, his attention already shifting back to his desk.
"Farengar!" Irileth barked, her tone cutting.
He glanced up briefly, his expression annoyed. "What is it now?"
"Where is the Jarl?" she demanded.
"Upstairs," he replied offhandedly, already absorbed in his work.
Irileth motioned for Freyja to follow, but Tsun didn't move. His eyes were fixed on a wall where a strange artifact hung.
A Stone Mask.
___________________________
AN: So our MC has found a stone mask cause I mean why wouldn't Farengar have something that weird. Anyway my thinking is he will not have a set element like the pillar men but will be able to emulate all of them, since it's not really elemental control but just advanced body manipulation. Idk why the pillar men in jojo didn't copy each other, probably some honour shit. Anyway our MC and Freyja will be parting ways soon. They share different destinies, but she's still in the harem so they will see each other soon. I hope you enjoyed the chapter.)
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