A Tale Of Blood And Snow Skyrim นิยาย & เรื่องราว

A line not meant to be crossed without bleeding for it. The snow beyond wasn’t truly snow anymore. It wore a skin of frost, yes—but underneath, something glistened wrong. Not with reflections, but refractions. The light bent through it as if what lay beneath remembered blood. Then the scent hit. Not suddenly, but slow, curling in like smoke nosing under a door. Blood. Thick, iron-rich. It clotted in the air, ripe and heavy, like it had been spilled and left to ferment. Beneath that: sulfur. Acrid and bitter. A ghost of flame that hadn’t burned clean.

Her throat tightened. The original Blood Pact. Her mother had told her legends about it: that the first Varela queen wrote her vows in ash and sealed them with her own bone. A promise to protect the bloodline, no matter what it cost. Now the parchment trembled in Amara’s hands. She unrolled it slowly. The ink had bled to rust, but the words were still legible: “When fire claims the crown and ashes claim the name, the heir shall rise alone. Her bones shall bear the weight of ruin, and her soul shall command the dead.”

Alice whispered, her voice trembling. Elara hesitated, her fingers brushing the pendant at her throat, her eyes distant with a sadness that made Alice’s chest ache. “Because I’ve been where you are,” she said, her voice low, almost a whisper. “Torn between worlds, between hearts.” She stepped closer, her hand hovering near Alice’s, not touching but close enough to feel the warmth. “I was born under a blood moon, Alice. My mother was a healer, my father a rogue wolf. They thought they could live between worlds, but the packs came for them. Crimson Moon burned our village when I was twelve, left me with nothing but this.” She held up her palm, revealing a faint scar, jagged like a claw mark. “

But knowing something and acting on it are two different things. "I'm working on it," I say. "Work faster." Riven's tone is light, but her eyes are serious. "The Bloodmoon waits for no one. And from what I've heard, a Bloodwraith during the rise is not something you want to face unprepared." A chill runs down my spine despite the heat. "Have you seen one before? A Bloodwraith transformation?" She shakes her head. "But Torven has. He was in Ardorfell during the Crimson Purge fifteen years ago. Said he saw a Bloodwraith tear through an entire battalion of Dominion soldiers in less than ten minutes. Said it was like watching death itself given form."

The hollow floor was slick with blood. Wolves lay broken in the moss, their howls stilled. The torches the witches had carried sputtered in the damp, smoke curling toward the cracked ceiling. Selene stood at the center, chest heaving, sweat streaking her temple, her hands glowing faintly gold and silver.

The cold wind whipped through the barren landscape as Asha and Darian trudged forward, the snow beneath their boots crunching with every step. Their breath misted in the freezing air, and the shadows of the Greywatch Spire loomed behind them, a dark silhouette against the starless sky. The sounds of pursuit—the growls of Blood Pact Beasts, the shouts of the royal guard—faded into the distance, but Asha knew it wouldn’t last. They had only just begun their flight, and the storm was far from over.

“I will save him!” “You can't even save yourself!” He shouts after her, as she gets herself and Owen to the door. When she passes through it, she falls into freezing wet snow. Looking around, she sees red snow surrounding her and the room is gone. Nothing but darkness, trees and snow. When she picks up some snow in her hand, it melts into blood, running through her fingers. She gasps and drops the handful. Why is the snow bloody? Looking at Owen, she sees that he is still bleeding, but that doesn't explain all the blood. When she looks around her once more, she notices the bodies.

Their whistles became the tune, and the cling-clang the beat. Draven, Snow and Nayara were having a hard time fighting with the fox. Oliver ran to them, but at that moment, the fox suddenly let out a loud growl, pushing the three backwards and stopping Oliver from getting near. “Ack!” Snow clutched her head and dropped her blades on the ground. She felt dizzy all of a sudden. She felt something come up to her throat and before she knew it, she was coughing up blood. “Snow! Are you alright?” Nayara ran to her, but the fox’s tail slapped her body away. She lost consciousness in an instant.

"From the sky. And it hurt—not just the fall, but everything. The pain was everywhere like it lived in my bones. At first, I thought it was just a dream, but then the snow started falling. It was beautiful, soft... until I realized it was mixed with ash." Lykan's eyes narrowed slightly, but he said nothing. "When I looked down, the snow was red. Not pink, not stained. Red. Thick. Blood soaked everything. My hands were drenched in it, and I didn't even know why. Then I heard it—screaming, sobbing. Wolves howling. People are dying. The air smelled like burning flesh." Dominic flinched.

A loud, shrieking scream of a beast molested the deep silence throughout the darkness of the snow forest. Warm blood dripped down on the ground from Arth’s black sword. He opened the mouth of the dead boar using his boots, where a small, white sphere appeared on top of its tongue.