It's the middle of the night when we finally come crashing to the ground. Odahviing has carried me as far as he physically can, but his wing is sundered and the scales of his chest are shattered. He gets as close to the ground as possible before giving out. The wind slapping against my ears was the first warning sign of our impeding fall. The second sign was the loud scream of pain the dragon I'm riding gave. I tried to help him as much as I could, but it was useless. His wing cracked and bent behind his back. All I could possibly do was hang on and pray he lands on his stomach and doesn't crush the life from my body.
The gods have been against me this entire night; yet now those gods seem to give me a small amount of their pity. Our fall is short and Odahviin lands on his stomach. Another roar of pain comes from my friend. I slowly manage to pry my freezing hands from his neck's spike and slide off of his scaly back. My feet crunch into hard snow and a stiff breeze picks my hair up in a wild dance. I ignore the chilly atmosphere and rush to my friend's head. Blood is oozing from a long, ragged gash that runs the length of his skull and more blood is gushing out between his lips from his missing teeth. I reach out and lay my clawed hands against his scaly flesh. I'm an amateur healer at best and now the dragon has to rely on me.
If I was a better healer I'd start on his wing and stomach. Unfortunately for Odahviin I'm an idiot when it comes to magic and the best I can do is seal up the gash on his head. I run my furry palms over the wound and allow the only healing spell I know to radiate from my palms. The wound remains wide open, but the bleeding stops. I pry open the red dragon's mouth and look at his gushing gums. I stick my hands into the mess and use the last of my magicka to staunch the blood. Finally, the ancient creature can speak.
"Dovahkiin.". My title rasps from his throat and I quickly pat him on the nose to silence him. My friend goes quiet, but begins kicking his back legs and attempting to stand up. I grab the top of his snout and encourage him to stay down. He stops kicking and simply looks deep into my eyes. I can see every small spark of pain deep in those black pools of his. I try to offer him some small form of encouragement.
"It'll be fine. We're alive and nobody's stupid enough to chase us.". Odahviin lets out a high-pitched whine and I know him well enough to know he's disagreeing with me. I honestly can't say I blame him. The massacre we saw in Whiterun was enough to discourage anyone. We saw our comrades slaughtered by the dozens and their bodies desecrated while we watched. Each dragon that fell to a warrior's blade was one more magnificent creature lost to the ages.
My hands clench around my friend's face as I remember what brought us to this point. All of the blood and death that paved the way to where we are now. Freezing in the middle of nowhere with our bodies aching and sore. I shake my head and remind myself that I'm in the middle of a frozen tundra. Now isn't the time to remember the past. Now's the time to try to make sure Odahviin and I see the future. I heave myself onto my shaking legs and look around into the night. An endless blanket of white greets me.
"Dovahkiin.". I turn to the dragon and see what I'm assuming is a sad look on his face.
"Go.". I shake my head and slam myself against the monster's face. His hide is slick with his blood and melting snow, but I hold on tight. Odahviin makes a deep, grumbling noise from the very pits of his stomach and begins kicking his legs again. I try to grab onto his nose and encourage him down again. He needs to save his strength and heal before we move again. My only friend in the world has other plans. He forces his rattling legs and broken wings underneath his body, then heaves himself off of his stomach. Snow and ice drip off of his underside as the monstrous beast begins lumbering forward in the same direction we were flying. I scream and try to get him back down, but eventually I'm forced to scrabble up his face and sit on the top of his head.
My pelt dances around my skull as Odahviin forces us to keep moving. I grab onto my friend's horns and keep looking around us for any sort of shelter. My companion and I need to get out of this storm before we end up dead. While Odahviin trudges along I look at our wounds. Odahviin's wing is crippling his ability to fly along with the broken scales on his chest making every breath a struggle. A few gashes litter his body, but those don't look nearly as serious as his wing. My own wounds are even less concerning. A few bumps and bruises along with a missing left incisor tooth. No wound on me is too severe. Well, mostly.
The stub where my long, flowing tail once was is still gushing blood and a deep cut along my left wrist has destroyed my ability to close or move my hand without shooting pain running up and down my arm. My adrenaline is blocking out the pain somewhat, but soon enough my battle high will wear off and I'll feel every ache and pain from Whiterun. Suddenly, Odahviin comes to a jerking stop and begins breathing heavily. I release my grip from his horns and lean down to look into his eyes. The dragon's entire body is shaking and another roar rips from between his lips. I'm about to ask why he's screaming when I look up and see it. A small grove of trees covered in ice and snow. Shelter. That's when Odahviin begins his best attempt at running.
One Year Later
Ria POV:
The inn is bustling when I walk inside and it takes me a moment to find a seat. When I do it's at the bar right in front of Hulda, but she's serving the man sitting beside me and I have to wait a moment for a drink. While I'm waiting I look around. The busy bar looks the same as always. A few tables, benches around the fire, and a tremendous dragon's skull mounted right above where Hulda works. It's almost killed her by falling more than once, but the stubborn woman refuses to move it. Something about it looking stupid anywhere else. Finally, Hulda gets to me and slides me a mead. I had her the money I owe and lightly sip the alcohol.
Hulda looks around to make sure everyone's satisfied and doesn't need serving, then turns her full attention to me. She's probably hoping to get the latest gossip on what's happening at Jorrvaskr, but I don't mind. It's still nice to have someone to talk to.
"So, how'd that quest of yours go? Find that relic the Companions wanted?". I shake my head at her question. I was suppose to find a piece of Wuuthrad in a dragur tomb with Farkas to earn a place higher up in the Companion ranks, but failed. I decide to tell Hulda as much.
"I went to find the relic with one of my fellows, but halfway through a sword to the shoulder wounded me too badly to keep going. He had to carry me back and take me to the healer. Now the quest is 'too dangerous' for me.". I sip a little bit more of my drink as Hulda hums and nods her head.
"Sorry to hear that.". Then, the woman reaches underneath the counter to get another drink. She hands me another mead.
"Here. On the house. It's a shame you didn't pass the quest. I'm sure you would have been great in the upper ranks of the Companions.". I offer her a small smile, then take another tiny sip of my already opened drink. I decide to tell her the somewhat good news and the reason I'm down here.
"At least The Companions gave me another chance. All I have to do is go kill something large and impressive, then take the pelt or head back to my leader.". Hulda smiles and nods her head at me.
"See, not everything's bad. So, any idea what you're going to go kill?". I bite my lip and try to think of any large and/or impressive monster I can think of. My mind turns up blank and I shake my head. Hulda frowns a little and tries to help me out.
"Is a bear or wolf enough to get you in?". I shake my head and try not to hurt her feelings too much at turning down her idea.
"It'd have to be a ton of wolves or quite an impressive bear. At the very least the animal would have to be a threat to people. Like if it ate a kid or something.". Hulda smiles a little and tries to lighten the mood of the conversation.
"Sorry. Fresh out of gossip about baby eating wolves.". I throw my head back and laugh at her joke, but when I stop laughing Hulda's face is grim. I soon find out why.
"There's at least one monster I've heard of.". I'm about to ask 'what' when Hulda points over my shoulder. I follow her finger and see Irileth drinking with a few guards and waving her hands around as she tells some tale. Ironically, she's pointing to the tail hanging around her neck.
The long, flowing appendage is weapped around her neck like a tie and hanging down in front of her armor. The red, striped fur shines in the firelight with the white tip gleaming. All of us know the story of how she got it. When the dragons attacked Whiterun because of our hunting, the traitor who's name is now forbidden by Jarl Balgruuf (we're forced to call her 'Dovahkiin') rode a tremendous grey monster of a dragon into battle.
She burned buildings, killed guards, and fought any warrior she could. Her dragon was slain by Irileth. Nobody's sure how she did it, but the elf claims it was a clever plan that ended with a sword in the dragon's brain. The Dovahkiin was thrown from her mount and absorbed his soul (in addition to the souls of any dragon that was slain during the commotion). Nobody's sure what happened after that, but the Jarl's bodyguard assures us she butchered the Khajiit woman like a mad dog. Irileth knew that the body would be crushed or desecrated before the battle was over, so she cut off the woman's tail as a souvenir.
Now the Khajiit's tail is dangling from Irileth's neck and her pet dragon's skull is hanging from Hulda's wall. However, I know that's not the reason Hulda pointed at Irlieth's neck. Only a single dragon as red as blood escaped the battle. It's long been accepted as fact that he's the only dragon left. The only one that can be killed for glory. The dragon's been hunted by everyone who's anyone ever since the battle ended. Amateurs, professionals, and everything in between is free to hunt the beast. Irileth has been on every possible hunting trip since they started. The closest anyone's ever gotten was a few weeks after the battle.
Some farmhand who dreamed of glory went off to kill the beast. Irileth followed his screams and found his roasted body in a frozen grove. Her hunting party found dragon tracks, but all they lead to was a crash site. Irileth and her men tore through the entire grove, but turned up blank. People searched around that area for months. The only thing they found was a single scale so large that Irileth now carries it as a shield.
If none of those search groups could find the dragon, then I have absolutely no chance of ever finding it. I turn to Hulda and begin shaking my head. That's when I see a smile spread across the woman's face.
"Wanna hear some gossip?". She knows something about the dragon. Do I really want to get involved in hunting down an ancient, powerful creature in order to prove myself? I nod to Hulda and lean in.