In the West, they like to say that Russia is a cold country, and that people there wear ushanka hats all year round.
Well, they should see Skyrim!
Compared to the local climate, the Far North would feel like a hot resort!
But perhaps I should reconstruct the sequence of events in the history I managed to blunder into—a history only I, and no one else, could have gotten tangled up in.
And the whole thing, you see, began quite mundanely…
In my Great and Mighty homeland, there had long been a problem with idiots who, after a drinking binge, get behind the wheel of their jeeps and couldn’t care less about traffic lights, speeding at a minimum of a hundred and fifty.
Then again, I wasn’t any better.
I just had to check the news about the Oblivion remaster right in the middle of a long pedestrian crossing!
Maybe I could have jerked out of the way fast enough not to be killed instantly.
Honestly, I didn’t even have time to process anything.
The screech of tires, light, a glimpse of a big front grille…
And Darkness.
And then Light.
And I find myself in the body of an infant.
That is, a body that doesn’t listen to you at all and constantly wants to sleep.
But the years passed.
I realized and accepted the fact of my, essentially, rebirth.
And even the fact that I had ended up not in my own world…
Because the surrounding landscapes didn’t evoke the feeling of the twenty-first century at all.
More like…
Rampant antiquity.
And the fact that I was born again as not quite a human…
helped a lot.
That is, as an elf.
A Snow Elf.
They looked similar to humans, just with elongated ears, somewhat sharper facial features in males, and absolutely snow-white skin, again resembling freshly fallen snow, which even looked natural.
For the local climate, that is.
My new kin didn’t trigger any uncanny valley effect or feelings of rejection.
So the forced acclimatization went fairly well.
It’s my own fault for getting distracted and missing my last chance to continue life in a human body.
Now I’ll live in an elven one, and it’s not like that’s bad—to die at five hundred instead of eighty…
Pretty good.
Even though I’ve already lived thirty years of that lifespan in Tamriel.
Especially since…
Look, Divayth Fyr managed to live until the time of the canon events, i.e., the games.
Am I worse, and can’t I do the same?
Nooo, my goal for this second life will be to meet those I used to play as.
Nerevarine, Champion of Cyrodiil, Dragonborn…
And others from the first two games.
Not to mention Tiber Septim, aka Talos, Alessia, Pelinal Whitestrake, Ysmir the Dragon of the North, Mannimarco…
Serana…
Hundreds of them!
And how, after ending up in such a world, in such a reality, could you not see them?!
How could you not visit Akavir itself?..
Nooo, I’ll work like a madman for this!
How did I figure out this was precisely the world of the Elder Scrolls, turned out to be real, despite the different language and names?
Besides the fact that it was hard not to hear familiar names like Altmer, Ayleids, Dwemer, and Falmer and Mer in general, i.e., elves…
There were also maps of lands discovered by the elves.
And not recognizing the characteristic outlines of Tamriel, Summerset, Cyrodiil…
Would have been hard even for a non-fan.
And I played the last three parts quite a bit, even if I didn’t have the energy for the first two.
“Feator!” came a female voice with a summoning tone.
Oh, and there’s my name being called again.
You have to listen to Mama, even if she’s your second mother and has long ears, so…
Getting my butt off the couch covered with local animal hides, I went out and quickly spotted the woman who had called me, standing in the inner courtyard of the white-stone mansion with my very distant relative (a fifth cousin, I think).
“Stopped lazing around at home?” said a devilishly beautiful but waaay too serious individual.
Though, serious?
It’s just that we have a conflict of interests.
“I’m not lazing around, I’m reading smart books,” I rolled my eyes in response, not about to rise to this individual’s provocations.
Then I continued in a mockingly honeyed tone: “Vaysi, you are aware that a knight-paladin must wield not only a sword but also magic, right?
Or have you, in your rush from training, completely forgotten what a book is?” That’s the conflict of interests.
The fact that she, like me now, was an aristocrat added spice.
Which meant she was a proud (but sweet!) elf squared.
“Pfft…” Mother couldn’t hold back, earning a slightly irritated look from the white-haired cutie, currently without her usual white armor.
Then she gave me a skeptical, displeased look from her icy blue eyes.
Clad in clothing quite light for Skyrim’s cold, she showed no reaction to the sub-zero temperature around.
It’s me who, by Snow Elf standards, is extremely heat-loving.
Even though I don’t feel the cold either.
I just don’t have particularly positive feelings about Siberian landscapes, constant blizzards and snowstorms, with a sea of nothing but snow all around!
And I don’t care that I’m now much more cold-resistant than humans.
For the first few years, a phantom sensation of eternal frost constantly haunted me and defined my first hobby in this new life—sitting at home with books and studying magic.
Being a hardcore nerd, in short.
And yes, there was and is real Magic here!
The real deal!
The kind you throw fireballs and lightning with, yes!
“…Well then, same question,” my distant relative, whom I call Vaysi for simplicity and fun, smirked with a distinctly proud note, her pale eyes full of mischief sparkling in anticipation.
“You are aware that a knight-paladin must wield not only magic but also a sword, right?
Or have you, buried in your books, completely forgotten what a sword is?” “Magic has longer range.
By the time you run up to me with your sword…
I’ll roast you fifty times over…” I declared with a mocking smile, greatly exaggerating magic’s capabilities.
It wasn’t that ultimate to make such claims.
And yes, I turned out to be quite talented in magic.
Specifically, its fire aspect.
A very rare skill among Snow Elves, for obvious reasons, but here my former humanity probably resonated.
“Not everyone is so good with an unconventional element,” she grimaced irritably but couldn’t deny the truth of my words.
“If you were normal, I wouldn’t give a damn about any magic…” “Yeah, yeah, say that when you meet the southerners…” I snorted, making Mother chuckle again and Vaysi’s face take on a contemptuous expression.
Like a significant part of Snow Elves, she disliked the Mer living to the south, i.e., elves.
And considering Skyrim is literally in the north of Tamriel…
We disliked everyone.
Again, the nasty northerners don’t like the glorious southerners, nothing changes.
“Alright, that’s enough,” Mother clapped her hands, cutting off our sparring.
“We didn’t gather here for this.” She tried to frown sternly, but Vaysi and I just exchanged a united, ironic look.
“And somehow you’re only united against someone else, not always…” the woman naturally noted.
“Be that as it may, my son.
You’ve already seen thirty winters, so it’s time to start your sword training.
Your body has developed enough…” Considering I now looked about fifteen, she was right.
“And it’s time to build reflexes.
You haven’t changed your mind about becoming a knight-paladin of our God Auri-El, have you?” she asked, more seriously and coolly.
“Haven’t changed my mind,” I answered just as seriously, because my current kin…
took faith in our God Auri-El-Akatosh very seriously.
Even though in my past life I was a staunch atheist, because I considered God absolutely unworthy of worship, like all other earthly supreme beings, here…
They were at least real entities.
And Auri-El was actually a fairly decent god, who did save the world during that Oblivion Crisis.
Yes, the hero ran around and the Emperor’s cousin, but if Auri-El hadn’t given his power—they could have all been swallowed by Mehrunes Dagon, and that would be that.
So, to sum up, I was quite ready to honor him, even if not as strongly as my other kin.
“Splendid,” she nodded in satisfaction, breaking into a warm smile.
“Vaysiniel, I’m counting on you.
It wasn’t for nothing I got you a whole twenty years of leave?..” “A whole twenty years of leave without serving Auri-El, you mean…” grumbled the slightly frowning girl, who, unlike my mama, who answered to Nerdanel, was more religious.
Paladin brain rot, what can you say.
“But it’s a necessary sacrifice to raise a new member of the brotherhood of Auri-El’s knight-paladins,” she concluded, looking at me with a very promising gaze, devoid of any sisterly feelings.
Oh, I have a feeling I won’t like the coming years.
Still…
Alright.
Stop panicking.
This will help me live a long life and not die in those adventures I’m definitely going to get into.
Where else, with my luck?..