Druthza

"A dragon?" Me and the mage said simultaneously as the information sank in.

Is it Alduin? Or another Dovah? I wondered, feeling as my heart started thumping faster at the thought of the furious ebony-black World Eater laying waste to the area near Whiterun.

Farengar then spoke excitedly: "how intriguing! Where was it seen? What was it doing?"

The Dunmer gave him a steely glare, "I'd take this a bit more seriously, if I were you. If a dragon decides to attack Whiterun, I don't know if we can stop it. Come on." She crossed her arms and jerked her head towards the stairs nearby, causing Farengar, me, and Derkeethus to rush up the stairs, only to find Jarl Balgruuf standing there on the second floor, his weight shifting from foot to foot as he took notice of everyone coming upstairs.

But as we settled in front of Balgruuf and awaited our orders, a Whiterun guard rushed up the stairs, panting heavily and trying to catch his breath, and surprisingly, he seemed to be shaking a bit.

"So... Irileth tells me you've come from the western watchtower?" Jarl Balgruuf questioned the guard, who snapped his head up to look at him. "Y-Yes, my lord." Said the guard from behind his helmet, which concealed the majority of the man's face.

"Tell him what you told me," Irileth stated to the man, "about the dragon."

As he caught his breath, the guard nodded. "...of course, that's right. We saw it flying in from the south, and it was fast... faster than anything I'd ever seen in my life."

Jarl Balgruuf hummed thoughtfully. "What did it do, Bjalki? Is it attacking the watchtower?"

Bjalki shook his head, "no, my lord. It was simply circling overhead when I left. I've never ran so fast in my life... I thought it would come after me for sure."

The Jarl nodded, "good work, son. We'll take it from here. Head down to the barracks for some food and rest. You've earned it."

He then looked to Irileth, whose red eyes gazed back attentively. "Irileth, you'd better gather some guardsmen and get down there."

"My Jarl, I've already ordered my men to muster near the main gate." She said, and Balgruuf gave her a phantom of a smile. "Good. Don't fail me."

The blonde Nord turned his head in my direction, his green eyes staring into mine. "There's no time to stand on ceremony, my friend; I need your help again. I want you to go with Irileth and help her fight this dragon. You survived Helgen, so you have more experience with dragons than anyone else here."

Fight it? What if there's an alternative to this? I wondered.

Maybe I could try to speak with the Dovah, if it's still near? The thought of fighting the dragon made me frown slightly, and I was unaware of Derkeethus looking at me from the corner of his eye while I did this.

"However, I haven't forgotten the service you did for me in retrieving the Dragonstone for Farengar. As a token of my esteem, I'll instruct Avenicci that you're now permitted to purchase property within the city."

"And here--" the Jarl walked over to a nearby table with what appeared to be a map of Skyrim pinned to its surface, grabbing a pair of iron boots that carried a familiar, yet intriguing green shimmer to them when the light hit just right. "Accept this gift from my personal armory."

As I took the iron boots from the Jarl, giving my thanks, I slipped them on after casting aside my leather boots, and felt an interesting boost of energy surge through me as I settled into them.

The mage, Farengar, stepped up to the Jarl, "I feel that I should come along. I would very much like to see this dragon." He said, and Balgruuf shook his head. "No, Farengar. I can't afford to risk both of you. Besides, I need you here working on ways to defend the city against these dragons."

"As you command, sir."

"And Irileth," the Dunmer woman looked to him. "One last thing. This isn't some death or glory mission. I need to know what we're dealing with."

She dipped her head respectfully, "don't worry, my lord. I am the very soul of caution."

Irileth then made her way down the stairs, and as I followed her, the footsteps of my Beeko followed me, and once we were nearing the doors of Dragonsreach to leave, Derkeethus came up to my side and murmured: "are you nervous?"

As we made our way outside, into the darkening world of Skyrim, the sun sinking beneath the city walls, I murmured back: "I speak honestly when I say: yes, I am a little nervous. But... I don't want to fight this dragon."

"Why? You should be eager to kill it." He questioned with a bit of a frown, and I sighed as he added: "what if it does attack the city? We need to take care of it before anything horrible happens to anyone here."

He had a point, but my mind was against the idea of slaying something that I had had an obsession with almost all my life. The ancient Dovahhe of legend were something I admired to the point where killing one was deemed nalpa in my head.

"I... I suppose that's true. Forget I said anything." Was my only response to Derkeethus as we soon approached the main gates of Whiterun, where I took my place beside the four other guards standing just outside the barracks.

As Irileth approached our group, she cleared her throat. "Here's the situation: a dragon is attacking the western watchtower."

"A dragon?"

"What?"

"Now we're in for it."

"You heard right! I said a dragon!" She barked, "I don't care much where it came from or who sent it! What I do know is that it's made the mistake of attacking Whiterun!"

A guard closest to the gates then spoke up, "but Housecarl... how can we fight a dragon?" He wondered, causing Irileth to make a little "hmph" noise.

"That is a fair question. None of us have ever seen a dragon before," those red eyes settled on me for a moment before turning to the rest of the group, "or expected to see one in battle. But we are honorbound to fight it, even if we fail. This dragon is threatening our homes... our families! Could you call yourselves Nords if you ran from this monster? Are you going to let me face this thing alone?"

"No, Housecarl!" Exclaimed the guard who spoke to Irileth, only for the guard closest to me to whisper in my ear: "we're so dead."

The Housecarl crossed her arms and smirked, "but this is more than just our honor at stake. Think of it-- the first dragon seen since the last age! The glory of killing it is ours, if you're with me!"

"Now: what do you say? Shall we go kill us a dragon?"

There were cries of confirmation from the guards, and there was a firm nod from Derkeethus, but I remained quiet while Irileth led us out of Whiterun and towards the watchtower, a feeling of guilt surrounding me as I marched towards the watchtower, not exactly willing to slay a dragon.

Am I even capable of such a feat? I wondered, a flower of anxiety bloomed in my chest as I kept a hand near my sword, and my mind immediately went back to the Word Wall in Bleak Falls Barrow.

That surge of power... the Word... the vision... I've read bits and pieces of the legends surrounding the Dragonborn. But... they were all human.

There's no way in Tamriel that I, a Saxhleel, am the legendary Dovahkiin...

...r-right?

Our group of seven made our way up the path to the western watchtower upon passing the stables, and I could see little plumes of smoke drifting into the air as we drew closer to it. The distant sparkle of flames caught my eye as nightfall fell upon us, the chilled winds of the night beginning to sweep in across the plains as I shivered.

As we drew nearer to the watchtower, my eyes were drawn to the devastation that had befallen it. The once sturdy ramparts that were meant to protect the tower now lay in ruins, reduced to nothing but a heap of broken stones and rubble. The sight of the collapsed and shattered structure left me with a sense of awe and shock at the same time.

A nearby outcropping served as an excellent spot to survey the scene as Irileth scanned the ruined watchtower, and eventually let out a lengthy sigh. "No signs of any dragon right now, but it sure looks like he's been here." She stated, before turning to the rest of us with a solemn expression, "I know it looks bad, but we've got to figure out what happened. And if that dragon is still skulking around somewhere."

"Prepare your weapons, and spread out to look for survivors, we need to know what we're dealing with." She then drew her sword alongside the rest of us as we each spread out to search the ruined watchtower and the area around it, my hands shaking a little as I drew my blade and approached the ruined structure.

Only to watch as a guard's unarmored head popped out from inside the watchtower, his hair disheveled and his eyes wide in fear as he took notice of me and Derkeethus. "No! Get back! It's still here somewhere!" He cried, trying to shoo us away. "Hroki and Tor just got grabbed when they tried to make a run for it!"

"Guardsmen!" Irileth barked to the two other guards around the watchtower, "what happened here? Where is this dragon you sighted? Quickly now!"

"I don't know!" Retorted the first man with anxiety, and a sudden, distant roar from the south sent an abrupt shiver down everyone's spines.

Especially mine. The sound caused my mind to reel as the memories of Helgen, which were still a fresh wound in my psyche, came rushing back.

Red eyes. Red blood. Red death.

Black scales. Black wings. Black smoke.

"By Kynareth, here he comes again!"

"Everyone-- here he comes! Seek cover, and make every arrow count!"

The sudden command and the feeling of someone giving me an encouraging nudge in the back made me come back to my senses as I suddenly snapped my head in the direction of another roar, only for my eyes to be met with the swiftly approaching form of a predominantly brown Dovah, with a toothy snout screwed up into a snarl as its wingbeats sounded through the air.

"Thuri du hin sil ko Sovngarde!" Bellowed the dragon whilst his words echoed across the plains, and as his intimidating form zipped towards us, the sight caused my chest to tighten and my soul to swirl and surge.

As he flew overhead, my adrenaline spiked, and I gained the urge to unsheath my blade, but an airborne target couldn't possibly be harmed by such a thing until grounded, which left me mentally asking: how am I supposed to help bring it down?

Bows were drawn, and the crackle of electricity magic hit the air as Irileth called up a spell, and rather than stand around and wait for things to escalate too far, I spoke up to the circling Dovah as my mind circled back to the Word Wall once again.

"Zu'u uth hin morah, Dovah!" I exclaimed as the dragon continued to circle overhead, I could see the flames building in his throat as he prepared to attack, but seemed to hesitate upon hearing a mortal speak his tongue. "Mu los wah laat daar naal nid krif, geh?"

The Dovah let out a cold, guttural laugh as he listened to what I had to say, "tinvaak fen ni spaan hi, joor! Nu: dir ko faas!" He snarled, and with a final circle around, he opened his gaping maw and unleashed a jet of scorching flames upon us, causing me to immediately backpedal away from the flames, everyone else near me doing the same.

Arrows were flying, and bolts of purple lightning jolted out from Irileth's palms as the group attacked the Dovah, leaving me to anxiously look upon everyone fighting the dragon, my eyes mostly flicked between Irileth and Derkeethus as they seemed intently focused on timing their attacks just right.

After a few fly-by attacks and the possible demise of one of the guards who had gotten in the way, the Dovah's brown scales were bloodied and arrows poked out from a few parts of its body, the great beast's wings flapped as it came slamming down upon the ground in front of the ruined watchtower, his narrowed pale-yellow eyes settling on me with a vicious glare.

"You speak with a Dovah's tongue... but I sense no power behind those words. You are weak, Siigonis! A fool to challenge my thuri's command in pursuit of your own weak desires!"

I heard it drawing in a breath, the sight of the dragon's throat beginning to glow with the intense heat of its fiery Thu'um was instantly brought to my attention as I felt my inner voice shouting at me to act, to do something about the unbridled emotions boiling over within me.

And it was at this moment that time had slowed for me.

My pupils narrowed to thin slits as I reached for my blade, the shouting voices of the other beings around me became nothing more than muffled noise, and all caution was thrown to the wind as I rushed towards the Dovah, my lips curling back to reveal my sharp fangs while I let out a guttural battle cry.

My fear. My doubt. The two had completely vanished as they were seemingly replaced with a fierce inferno of burning courage, one sparked by the frantic beat of my heart and the roaring of my inner voice as I drew back my sword-wielding arm and, with another guttural cry, I managed to sink my blade deep into the dragon's eye.

Dark red blood spurted from the socket, a blood that possessed an odd, fiery orange-gold glow that gave off a noteworthy amount of heat as it splattered against my scales.

The beast let out a near deafening roar accompanied by a spout of scorching orange flames as it then whipped its head back, causing me to let out a genuine cry of alarm as I too was thrown back with the force of his violent movement. The grip on my sword slipped as I dropped to the ground, tumbling head over tail before sliding to a stop in the dirt, my vision swimming from the sudden impact and my glorious tumble as I groaned softly and lay there for a moment, disoriented.

However, the concerned voice of my Argonian companion soon reached my ears as he rushed towards me, and I allowed him to aid me to my feet. My hand reached for his as I finally stood back up, my heart hammered against my ribs and my senses were locked in survival mode as I drew in a few shaky breaths to try and calm my nerves.

My armor and scales were streaked with dirt, sweat, and dragon blood upon making a brief examination of myself, my hands were shaky and I could feel my eye twitching as I gazed at the now limp corpse of the brown Dovah. My blade was still buried in the dragon's eye socket, and as I approached the front end of the dragon's body, I felt a twinge of sadness breaking through my previous feelings of courage and anxiety upon surveying its bloodied and lifeless face.

The sadness was no doubt spawned by my troubled conscience from earlier, but there was a shred of me that was utterly shocked and elated by the fact I had managed to slay a dragon.

Of course, I had help to bring it down. But whether or not I could do it solo was... a whole other journey in itself. One I wasn't entirely ready to think on just yet.

But before anyone around me could make a comment about the dead dragon and our victory, the visage that was the dragon's scales beginning to smolder and glow caused Irileth's red eyes to widen in fear. "Everyone-- get back!" She exclaimed, and I felt Derkeethus attempting to gently hold me back as the bloodied scales and the flesh of the fallen dragon started to burn away.

It looked as if it were ready to explode, but an abrupt gasp from me suggested something entirely different as thin tendrils of pale blue and orange energy began reaching for my form, seamlessly slipping deep into my being as my vision blurred and a violent shudder rushed up my spine.

The raw power and might coursing through me was unlike anything I had ever felt before.

I had almost begun to double over due to how strong these new feelings of raw power and might had become when it slowly started to settle down, the ethereal blue and orange glow which had enveloped me now dissipating as I sighed and went over to retrieve my weapon from the now skeletal remains of my foe.

A foe whose death brought forth the very thing I had been in denial about ever since I discovered that Word Wall.

I felt everyone staring at me, and that was more than enough to confirm exactly what I was thinking whilst I sheathed my sword.

"I... I can't believe it!" breathed one of the guards, the sheer shock and awe in his voice was evident. "You're... Dragonborn..."

I stared at everyone blankly for a moment before I heard Derkeethus speak up with confusion and curiosity to the Nord. "Dragonborn? What does that mean?" He asked with that low rumble in his slight Saxhleel accent.

"In the very oldest tales, back when there still were dragons in Skyrim, the Dragonborn would slay dragons and steal their power." He answered, looking over to me once more. "That's what you did, isn't it? Absorbed that dragon's power?"

"Yes... I-I took its soul." I murmured, and promptly shut my eyes to focus inward. I momentarily slipped beyond the veil of my physical self to go deeper, mentally clawing through blood, bone, and muscle to soon find my soul, a strange thing that echoed with... a pulse? Like a heartbeat, but deeper... it feels... fuller... I mused over this intriguing sensation my soul now had for itself, and began curiously probing it with my psyche. Do tell me what you're hiding...

While I continued to coax that sensation into an even stronger state, the first Word of my Unrelenting Force Shout formed on my lips as I drew my head back and sucked in a deep breath.

I saw the vision I gained from the Word Wall come back with particular haste, and it gave me the final push I needed to finally unleash my newly-acquired potential.

"FUS!" I exclaimed, watching with suppressed intrigue as my weak Shout sent forth a brief shockwave of energy that only managed to lightly nudge the dragon skeleton in front of me, and another one of the Nord men spoke up. "The Thu'um! She summons the Thu'um!"

"Dragonborn?" Asked a third man, looking at the one who asked about me taking the dead dragon's soul. "What are you talking about?"

"That's right! My grandfather used to tell stories about the Dragonborn. Those born with the Dragon Blood in 'em. Like old Tiber Septim himself." He started, only for the first man to proclaim: "I never heard of Septim killing any dragons."

The second Nord scoffed and looked to the first one, "there weren't any dragons then, idiot. They're just coming back now for the first time in... forever. But the old tales tell of the Dragonborn who could kill dragons and steal their power." He pointed at me. "You must be one!"

"What do you say Irileth? You're being awfully quiet." One of them asked the female Housecarl, who was examining the starry sky above us, as if waiting for another Dovah to swoop down and trigger a second battle.

"Come on, Irileth, tell us: do you believe in this Dragonborn business?"

The Housecarl then simply gave everyone a look as she approached the skeletal remains of the dragon, "hmph. Some of you would be better off keeping quiet than flapping your gums on matters you don't know anything about." She muttered sternly.

"Here's a dead dragon, and that's something I definitely understand. Now we know we can kill them.. but I don't need some mythical Dragonborn. Someone who can put down a dragon is more than enough for me."

"You wouldn't understand, Housecarl. You ain't a Nord." Retorted one of the guards, and Irileth scoffed at him. "I've been all across Tamriel. I've seen things just as outlandish as this." Her dark hand gestured to me and the dead dragon beside her, and my eyes narrowed for a moment 

"Now," she added, "I'd highly advise you all to trust in the strength of your sword arm over tales and legends..."

And with that, the Housecarl pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed heavily, furrowing her brow as she seemed to brood over the whole ordeal surrounding what had just occurred. 

I didn't blame her, though, This was a lot to take in. I was still in shock over my newfound Shouting ability, and as I looked at Derkeethus to gauge his reaction, I found him looking back at me with a nearly flabbergasted face as those silvery-green eyes stared into mine. 

A part of me wondered exactly just what he was thinking as our eye contact remained steady for but a few more moments before we both turned to look at the Dark Elf, who was staring at me with seemingly tired crimson eyes. "That was the hairiest fight I've ever been in, and I've been in more than a few." She told me, "I don't know about this Dragonborn business, but I'm sure glad you're with us, Druthza."

"You two had better get back to Whiterun right away. Jarl Balgruuf will want to know what happened here. I'm taking command here for the moment. You head back to Whiterun and let the Jarl know what happened." 

I gave her a quiet nod, attempting to wipe away the dragon blood and dirt that I felt caking on my face before saying "as you wish," and turned to trudge off back to Whiterun, the light footsteps of Keeth sounded beside me as he followed me closely.

As we walked back to the city, the immense rush that was killing a dragon was beginning to wane as the negative effects of our victory settled within me, the loss of my adrenaline giving rise to some rather harsh physical pains as I felt a majority of my muscles beginning to ache.

Healing potions the likes of which I carried could only take away so much pain, and the healing spell I knew wasn't meant for a swift recovery, so it was likely that I'd be sore for a few days. I would be especially sore on the right side of my body, which had taken the brunt of my less-than-graceful tumble after having jammed a blade in a dragon's eye socket.

I heaved a sigh as I thought about all that had occurred- and what could come next- while trying to distract my mind from the pain plaguing my body.

Which was admittedly better said than done.

"Are you going to be alright, Beeko?" Keeth inquired with concern, "that look on your face and the way you're walking don't appear too pleasant."

"I'll be fine," I tried to reassure him, my eyes turning to him, "I'm just going to be sore... don't worry about me."

"Are you certain, Druthza? With what just happened to you, I'm questioning that answer you gave me."

"I said I'll be fine," I was trying to keep myself calm and remain respectful with him, but with everything I was mentally digesting and the pain I felt, my patience was starting to waver. "I'll take care of it. Worry about yourself for the time being."

I felt that my last words had come out as rude, and I gave Derkeethus a bit of a guilty expression as the moonlight shone upon my scaly snout before continuing alongside him on the way back to Whiterun.

But before we could reach the main gates of the city, our focus on returning to Balgruuf had been shattered as we heard the tempestuous thunder of a full-force Thu'um echoing down the looming mountain just southeast of Whiterun.

But the Thu'um only carried one word with it, a word that would echo far across Skyrim and seemingly shake the ground itself as all within the mountain's range heard it.

"DOVAHKIIN!"