3- The escape

Lars stared intently at the baby boy in his arms. He could only say that the baby was beautiful. Not because of his facial beauty or anything. Not for that at all. The Bretons themselves were a pretty beautiful race. Instead because the boy's face was glowing. Yes, literally glowing as if it were a star. And because of his beautiful eyes. Although the Bretons did claim a part of their descent from the mer, but eyes with silver irises and a glowing golden pupils were rather rare. Or rather he could say that he had never seen or heard or read of such colored eyes in his life. As he held him in his arms, he couldn't help wondering about the eyes of his baby. Not just the color, but also the level of intelligence reflected in them. As if the boy was as intelligent as an adult. He would have panicked if not for the boy to have that immense level of familial love in his eyes. Like as if his eyes were dripping with love. And pity. Like he understood everything he said to him. As if all his loss were the baby's loss, his suffering the baby's suffering, his yearning for a full, content family life the baby's yearning….

He wanted to talk more to the boy, happy that he could share his pain, overjoyed at having a kinsman again to share sorrows and joy, but before he could be overwhelmed in the new found emotions, his years of fortitude kicked in, returning him to sanity and reason. He laughed at his thought of sharing his life experience with a kid still covered in amino fluids, kissed him on the forehead tenderly, and said, "Father loves you Zin. The world will be cruel to us, and we will be crueler, but whatever happens, know that daddy loves you. Even if this world ends up creating monsters out of us, Lars Larus will be a monster protecting his nest".

x-x-x

Zin was feeling strange. Not that this was his first time going through a birth, for of course he had already lived once to his late twenties; but still it was strange going through a birth as a conscious person. It was sort of frustrating to be all at the mercy of others, as even moving his small hands and feet was much of a chore for him, but even more was his frustration at his inability to even be able to express himself. The first breath he took in after his long dip in his culture tank (mother's womb) reminded him of what it was like to be alive again, as feelings and senses came rushing to him, the air, the feeling of being dry, of hearing and being able to see the world again. He opened his eyes eager to take in every detail of his surroundings, of his new life, he became aware of the medieval-era level living conditions, clearly evident from the lack of any modern medical instrument to facilitate his mother giving birth to him. Even more when the young midwife used a dagger- yes a dagger- to cut-off his umbilical cord. Still trying to register his shock and horror at being birthed to a hygiene-less, and evidently dangerous world (yes, the medieval people fought a lot- against others, amongst themselves, and even didn't have any kind of war rules like Geneva convention, etc.), he was surprised to see a glow coming from the hand of the mid-wife, healing the cut umbilical-cord and the bleeding mother of his.

'Wow, so this is some magical kind of world, at least I can learn magic and be some Mr. Big shot too', he cheered in his mind.

However, he was brought back to the situation at hand, as he noticed the environment he was in. Wooden floor, a roof made of wooden planks supported by wooden beams, a bed with faded bed sheets, although somewhat clean according to the possible standards of that era, or so he thought. The young maid (?) by the side carried him in her arms wrapped in a sheet, and took him outside to the waiting man, who would later turn out to be his father. This new father of his, the very first thing he noticed about him was that he was dressed in quite expensive looking clothes, compared to his understanding of the clothing standards of the medieval ages. In fact, his clothing was of such quality, that it could even be called a noble's clothing, having bright colors, and actually some sense of fitting and fashion contrary to the unfit bag like clothes worn commonly in that era; quite contrary to his first impression of being born into a humble background. Now as he noticed, and from the riding breeches and riding attire on his entourage of three rough big knights, he could actually be a noble, meaning that they were either in at an inn, or he was an illegitimate child.

The new young father; as nervous as he seemed to be, as he seemed fresh off an emotional rollercoaster; took him into his arms, and began a long monologue about family and his affection. Zin listened to it, feeling affection from his father and unconsciously reciprocating it in his eyes, as he felt the call from his flesh and blood. Five minutes into the monologue, and Zin felt a 'bang' in his head, as all the pieces fell into place. His dazed eyes still locked with his father's affectionate ones as he felt the scope of the absurdity of the newly received information, his mind still trying to process and cope with the implications and effects of it. All the while his mind echoing his own masterpiece in naming, in the voice of a dragon-born trying to shout a thuum, 'Zin- Zin- ZINKAHJUL'.

Oh, he knew where he ended up, and he wasn't quite happy to be in some fantasy world, created by some game company trying to provide entertainment to gamers, all while raking in shit tons of money. But he did pray to avoid injury and lasting damage to body and mind, and he did avoid all that, and so he did he did get transported somewhere oddly familiar yet un-familiar at the same time, and he could only accept it, cos he didn't have much of a choice any ways…..

And he did get to live one of his favorite games all the while getting an opportunity to kick some golden ass, and make humanity great again.

Zin got out of his semi-dazed, semi-drowsy condition, to the clopping of horse shoes and the grating of iron wheels against a mud and stone road. He couldn't help complimenting the wonders of magic. At least he didn't know of any medical procedure that could make a woman comfortable enough to be able to ride a carriage just around 6 hours after birth. After his birth the maids had tended to him, bathed and clothed him, and they had set out only a few wee hours later, with his mother pretty much able to walk on her own. Seriously, he respected this woman who was so steadfast and strong, carrying herself to be the strength of his father in their hard times, even forsaking her rest and comfort, bearing all hardships and discomfort, even though being a noble woman and a countess at that; to be travelling in this condition; for he had only heard of women complaining about how painful it was giving birth, almost equating it to getting kicked in the balls….

He looked around the carriage he was in. His mother with the previous maid and his mage mid-wife for sitting on one seat, those two supporting her as she cuddled him in her arms; with two little girls around 14 in heroic armor sitting across on the opposite seat as if ready to jump out and defend at any moment. The clopping noises he heard around the carriage reminding that his father was circling around the carriage with his three knights, keeping them safe at they hurried to their destination.

"Shay, love, bear with it. We could've rested before, but we could only hurry as we are. The land route to Solitude is inaccessible due to the reachmen riots, and the only ship this month is dispatching this evening from the port and can pick us up 30 miles away from the port via the small boat I arranged. This may be our only chance to escape from these lands from the Thalmor and their agents safe and sound. Solitude still doesn't have much Thalmor presence, so we can hide there and be transparent, until they ignore us and move on."

And this is how Zin Larus short for Zinkahjul Larus, sole heir to House Larus Hereditary Imperial Count came to Skyrim, escaping from his hometown as a baby barely 12 hours of age with his father, mother, the old family butler, three knights, two junior knights and two evoker mages, all escaping in a carriage and four horses; fleeing assassination attempts, losing the family estate, and carrying only a proof of their nobility