"Hmm. Perhaps not one of the priests who took me in, then, unless the injury is new."

She shrugs. "Just a coincidence, is all. Anyway, please excuse me, if you're not buying anything I don't want to look occupied."

"Of course. Thank you for the ring and sorry about that whole thing."

"Oh, don't mention it. I hope you're doing better, now, about the engagement."

"Yeah, I am, thank you."

Fucking Sanguine.

Next stop: Helgen.

Trek to Helgen

The way there is pretty idyllic: riding next to a beautiful river with mountains to either side, past merchants and fishers and adventurers on peaceful walks, the half-tamed wilderness giving the world a picturesque quality that feels almost artificial. They have to camp on the first two nights but on the third day they retire earlier so they can spend the night in the more comfortable inn at the village of Riverwood.

Next morning, as they're getting ready to continue on their journey, they catch a bit of a conversation that makes them stop and pay some more attention.

"I know what I saw," says an old woman.

    "Mother, I've told you already—"

"I saw it with my own two eyes!"

    "And how come no one else did?"

"No one else looks up."

    "Well, if it flew over the barrow then surely people over at Whiterun will have seen it so there's no reason for you to go."

"We need more guards to defend our village! Can you fight a dragon? Because I can't!"

"Excuse me," Ruby says, walking over to the two. "Dragon?"

"Yes! I saw it! Black as night, big as a mountain, coming from the south!"

    "Mother, stop spouting nonsense to the outsider, everyone will think you're crazy."

"When was this?"

"Three days ago! I've been telling my ungrateful son about it so he can ride for Whiterun to tell the jarl but he won't listen!"

    "Stranger, please forgive her—"

"Sven, the grownups are talking," the woman tells her adult son.

"Would you say it could've come from Helgen?"

"Helgen? ...well, I suppose it is in that direction."

    And now Sven looks uncomfortable. "Helgen?" he repeats.

"Don't suppose you were expecting someone to have arrived from there who hasn't, yet?"

    "...I was, but... Dragons?"

"Were you not listening? One dragon, not plural."

"I have outside reason to believe your mother is right, Sven."

"But the dragons died out thousands of years ago!"

"Which does make this very mysterious, yes. But I mean to investigate."

"Thank you, stranger."

    Sven looks queasy, though. "Dragons?" he repeats in a small voice.

"I'm sorry. We'll return as soon as possible with news."

They ride on. Ruby's secretly glad it was "three days ago" because there's no reasonable way he could've come here faster; even without stopping at Fellglow Keep and Whiterun they would've saved at most a day and a half. He would've beat himself up forever if he could've arrived earlier and didn't. As it is, who or whatever sent him the vision seems to not have planned for him to arrive in time.

...or maybe they hoped he'd have slept less. Maybe that. Are the Psijic judging him?

Man.

They travel in silence, perhaps all absorbed by thoughts of whether there was anything they could've done that would've prevented this. But as it stands, there just... isn't anything.

And Helgen was, in fact, attacked by a dragon.

"Mara help us..."

The other two don't have much to add to that. The village is in ruins, some parts of it still smoldering though all the proper fires have been put out already. There are charred corpses everywhere, some having been cooked inside now-melted imperial armour. A light snowfall has covered a lot of it with a thin layer of ice, making the scene somehow look even more terrible. No one came to help these people, and they had no time to escape, and now their corpses lie here, forgotten, not even carrion birds willing to pick at their remains.

The trek back is even quieter and more somber. They spread the news in Riverwood—Helgen is destroyed, turned to cinder, a dragon at fault—and then move on to Whiterun to inform the jarl so that he can send forces to protect Riverwood, if he can. If the dragon hasn't been sighted there, it is most likely still around the southern mountains, and Riverwood is a very soft target.

"Halt," says a guard at the door of the jarl's keep. "State your business."