[ EU ] You live in Skyrim . It is your job to keep lit all the candles in the abandoned caves and dungeons and castles .

This is one of my few first stories I've written and shared. Id love if any of you who may read it leave an opinion or correction on how i wrote, Im not an English speaker by birth. 
 
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 Generations have passed since the old prophecy was spoken. It was the first Loredas in Sun's Dawn when the old crone that lived in the Jerall mountains came down to my family ’ s lost lands. She entered the town disheveled and spewing what we once thought to be madness. 
 
 … 
 
 
 The fire flickered, illuminating the face of the man staring into it. The face of a man consumed, deep bags and bloodshot eyes were the few colors to paint his face. The skin stretched against his cheekbones as if nothing laid between them. 
 
 
 Three men stood before this man, across from the fire. They observed a man who on all accounts had to be dead on his feet, stare mindlessly at the bonfire with nervous glances. The three found themselves unable to move but for scared glimpses between themselves. 
 
 
 “ Shh… now, calm down. You ’ ll waste the fire if you keep fretting and thinking like that. Id wish to be able to finish my story with an audience still alive, I rarely get to tell it. ” The ghoul of man whispered in the faintest of sounds. 
 
 
 Whimpers came from the three men. 
 
 
 “ Where was I now? ” “ Ahh! Yes, yes, of course. The exiled witch of the coven of Namira ” 
 
 
 … 
 
 
 The crone entered the town heading towards my old family ’ s estate two hours before midnight. She was shivering with cold, clothes torn and stained with blood. As she raced through the town, her wild shrieks and clamors woke those she passed by. Same way as a wave she pulled them behind her, an unstoppable force. 
 
 
 As she reached the main square, half the town was following her a few stone ’ s throw behind her and my father and I, came out of the long house as well. There she started with an audience rapt with curiosity and morbid fascination. 
 
 
 “ I have seen it, I have! Seen the end, the beginning. The beginning of the end. You will find nothing in the moon for she has told me with a voice like whispering thunder! The moon is a lie. The end it told me. Oh! The bones were clear, it ’ s the beginning. ” 
 
 
 “ Enough! ” My father shouted. 
 
 
 “ Guards! Throw this dammed cannibal into the dungeon, we have no reason to hear the blasphemies of the mad and their demons! This witch is to be burned in the morning. ” 
 
 
 The town roared in unison in the prospect of some more entertainment to be had in the morning. They started to shout insults and depravities at the old crone in pure elation of the prospect. I didn ’ t realize it at the time but as the guards dragged the old witch away, her screams of frustration drowned out by the crowd, that ’ s when it first happened for me. That ’ s the first time I saw my father be wrong. I learned that day that your friends teach you want you want to know but your enemies, they teach you what you need to know. 
 
 
 I slipped that night into the dungeon. I was curious of the old crone and I guess at the time I wanted to prove to myself I was as brave as my father wanted me to be. I walked down the crumbling old steps with a candle to light my way. The dungeon was cold and moist, water droplets dripping from the ceiling. It was as dark as it could, the only light coming from my candle and a small barred window to let the air out of the underground cells. 
 
 
 I peered into the nearest cell to me but I could barely see into it. A chill ran down my spine as I inched closer and closer towards the cell. My nerves were almost about to give when the old crone grabbed me. Her hand shot towards me from the dark as fast as a hawk ’ s flight. She gripped me with strength I would not believe of an old woman and as I screamed for help she pulled me ever so close to the bars of the cell. There as continued to scream she whispered into my ear. 
 
 
 “ You have to help me, it ’ s you and me now! If you don ’ t help me escape the flames will consume us all! It ’ s the beginning, the darkness will come and steal the souls from within us, it will leave us poor and the fire will eats us whole, then it will be the end! I have your blood and the pact is done, help me escape! ” 
 
 
 I felt a strong slice in my wrist and as my blood started to flow the guards rushed into the dungeon, prying me open and escorting me out. 
 
 
 … 
 
 
 The old husk of a man stretched its arm and threw another log into the dying bonfire, sparks flew rising up into the air, dancing with the smoke in a hypnotic ballet. As they continued to rise they turned into purple smoke which floated towards the three men across from him. As they breathed the smoke, they were shaken from their reverie, life and will flowing back through them. 
 
 
 “ Please, help us ” one of them cried out. 
 
 
 “ Put more please, free me ” shouted another. 
 
 
 “ Now, now I aint done with my story and it is mighty rude too interrupt a man my age. Shut up or I will never come feed your fire again. ” 
 
 
 The three men went as silent as stone, tears flowing down their eyes. 
 
 
 … 
 
 
 That night nightmares plagued my dreams. A thousand fires dancing around me, eating at me. Humans like puppets chasing after me. Tearing at me. Pleading, crying, scared and tormented. And so it continued until dawn broke. 
 
 
 A few hours passed as cold sweat drenched me and my bed until the time for the burning came. The town came together in the main square and the stake was erected. The witch rambling her warnings and pleads for help was dragged and tied and with few words my father lit her pyre. 
 
 
 As she burned she stared at me, deep into me and she uttered her curse. 
 
 
 “ You broke the blood pact and now you will pay, you will have to stop the doom that is coming on your own ” 
 
 
 “ Fire to destroy, fire to create. The locks on the cages of the dammed are opened with keys of marrow, sinew, blood and timber. For fire never dies alone. The ties of loyalty will tie you to your grave and until all of them are lit we will not be free ” 
 
 
 That was all she could say for after that nothing but screams of pain and promises of vengeance escaped her lips. As time passed the flames died, and the flickers died and the ashes died and with them so did the crone and when it did so did all the fires in the town. A strong fog thundered through the town consuming every fire in its way. Heavy light flooded across the landscape, cloaking everything in deep crimson and the darkness came. 
 
 
 It stole everything, the heat, the fire and the people for as the darkness passed through them, they were reaped of their soul, their dreams and their voices. They became husks, empty vessels, puppets controlled by some dark power. When it reached me the wound the crone had done me burned and the darkness spared me. 
 
 
 As the darkness ate all the light from the fires I did what little I could and I saved one of the last embers from the pyre. 
 
 
 … 
 
 
 “ I have kept that same fire going for I am too scared to let it go out. I am still that scared little child and I ’ m scared of the darkness. You all became this horrible cursed thing, mindless repeating senseless lines and going about meaningless business. Few were spared of whatever ran through the land only the dragons and those born of them seem to be fine. ” 
 
 
 “ The thing I regret most is being too afraid to help the old witch. For I know not how to keep the fire going with magic. So all I can do is harvest the tallow, and pull the marrow, cut the timber and clot the blood to keep the fire going. ” 
 Tears started to run down the man ’ s hollow cheeks. 
 
 
 “ I ’ m so sorry, I really am. It ’ s all my fault. Your fire is ending now and you ’ ll return to be hollow once more. I ’ m too afraid to let it die, I don ’ t want to become like you! ” 
 
 
 He lifted himself and took the last log in the bonfire, the last one still aflame with embers and as soon as he did the three men snapped. 
 
 
 “ You should talk to the Jarl up in Dragonsreach, lend any aid you can. ” Spoke one man. 
 
 
 “ They say Helgen got hit by a dragon. One of those horrors comes here, we'll be ready. ” Spoke the second. 
 
 
 “ I used to be an adventurer like you. ” Spoke the third. 

