"Dragonborn?" Eren asked, staring at the smoldering skeleton before him.
The odd word sent a jolt through his chest. He had never heard it in his short life, and yet…and yet….
Why does it feel so…familiar?
"In the very oldest tales, back when there were dragons in Skyrim, the Dragonborn would slay dragons and steal their power," the guard replied, pointing to Mirmulnir's remains. "That's what you did, isn't it? Absorbed that dragon's power?"
"Honestly, I don't really know what happened to me." The chestnut-haired boy shook his head. "I was just standing here, and he told me to touch it."
"Who?" The man now stood only a few centimeters away from Eren, head cocked quizzically at the dead dragon. "There wasn't anyone out here. Couldn't have been. You were the only one out here. The only one alive, that is."
"He was probably just hearing things." Eren felt Mikasa's fingers curling over his shoulder. "He hasn't been feeling well."
"But I feel—!"
"Or it could've been the fighting," the dark-haired girl continued. "His ears could have been ringing from the dragon's roars."
"Hmm…" The guard cleared his throat and edged toward the pair of young cadets.
"Eren, close your eyes!" Mikasa whispered sharply into his ear as she brushed her fingers over his eyelids. "If he sees you—!"
"Wait! Let's see if he can shout."
"What?" Eren asked, struggling against his companion's grip.
What the hell is a shout?
"A shout. Speaking in the dragon tongue," the guard replied. "It's the only way to know if you're Dragonborn or not."
"Tinvaak!"
"Speak!"
Eren could do nothing but obey the ancient voice in his mind. Yanking himself from Mikasa's icy fingers, he opened his eyes and tilted his head toward the sky. The forceful gust of energy sprang from his lips and into the night, an ocean-colored plume of change itself.
"Eren! Don't—!"
"By the Nine, it's a shout! The language of dragons!"
So that's what this is…a shout.
The young cadet stared into the endless void above him. Every muscle in his body resonated with the same power that he had received after the shout had first left his mouth. Narrowing his eyes, he lowered his gaze from the star-filled abyss to the guard.
"What in Oblivion?!" the soldier shrieked, unsheathing his sword and pointing it at the young cadet's chest. "Ireleth!"
"Seize him!" The dark elf raced toward the smoldering remains of Mirmulnir. Followed by her band of guards, she had no difficulty running in her thick, leather armor.
Eren stared wide-eyed at the battle-hardened individuals surrounding him.
Why are they acting like this?
"What's—?"
"Shut up, vampire!" a nearby guard snarled, pointing his sword at the young cadet's chest. "I don't want to hear whatever filthy lies you're about to spin!"
"Eren!" Mikasa stepped toward him, only to be halted by a burly Whiterun soldier. "Please, I have to get to him! You don't understand! Don't do this!"
Her cries continued uselessly, blending into the clamor of urgent commands and desperate tones. Swords clanked against shields, their silver blades directed at Eren's heart.
"Ireleth, what do we do? Finish him?"
"Are you insane?! Kill the Dragonborn?! He could be our only hope!"
"He won't be if he drinks us all!"
"That's enough!" Ireleth's voice rose above the others', heard clearly over the continuous blazing of the remaining flames. "Look, I've seen all sorts of things as outlandish as this. We'll take him to the Jarl immediately."
"Take that threat?! Back into the city?! He could kill us all, if he wanted!" a young guard countered. "It will be just like the days before they restored the Dawnguard!"
"But he's been in Whiterun more than once, and we haven't found any bodies. No one's gone missing," she replied, casting her gaze upon the red-eyed captive. "Either he's not a threat…or he's well-fed. Like it or not, he did help us kill a dragon, and something as strange as this needs to be reported to the Jarl. Besides, if he's a vampire, there may be other uses for him."
"Yes, Ireleth," the guard replied, bowing his head.
"All right." The dark elf nodded to her men. "Let's move out!"
"So, you're a vampire…." Jarl Balgruuf sat upon his wooden throne, azure blue eyes narrowed at Eren.
"He isn't!"
The slicing ring of swords being drawn from their scabbards filled the air, and Eren glanced at Mikasa. The dark-haired girl stood to his right, ignoring the blades pointed at her throat.
"Please, leave him alone!" she continued. "He's not dan—!"
"I was talking to Eren." The Jarl stood from his throne. "Now…tell me. Are you a vampire?"
"No…well, I don't think so. I don't drink blood," the young cadet replied, shuddering as the vision of the bloody sea from his night at Helgen flashed in his mind. "Not yet."
"You haven't turned," The Jarl concluded.
Without a word, he slowly approached Eren, dagger unsheathed.
"Jarl Balgruuf, don't!" Ireleth rushed from her position beside the throne and leaped between the ruler and the chestnut-haired boy. "I can't let him kill you!"
"Relax, Ireleth. I simply want to talk."
"And you can do it from your throne just as well as you can here," the dark elf replied. "Is this really more important that the people of Whiterun?"
"I'm grateful for your service, Ireleth, but he's restrained, and I'm armed. I want to know what happened." Jarl Balgruuf gently pushed Ireleth aside and made his way to his captive. "What happened at the watchtower?"
"The watchtower was destroyed, but we killed the dragon," Eren answered. "It shouldn't be a problem anymore."
"But there must be something more. Did anything else happen?"
"I…don't know." The young cadet shook his head. "I went in after him. The guards shot him down with arrows, and he died. But…but I had this strange urge to touch him. When I did, I absorbed some kind of power from him. Some of the guards called me 'Dragonborn.'"
The Jarl nodded and backed away from his captive. Weapon still gripped tightly in his hand, he made his way back to his throne. For several heartbeats, he sat in his wooden seat, fingers upon his chin.
"So, it's true," he finally murmured. "The Graybeards really were summoning you…."
"Graybeards?" Eren cocked his head at the blonde-haired ruler.
"Masters of the Way of the Voice—of Shouting. They live in seclusion high on the slopes of the Throat of the World," Jarl Balgruuf replied. "If you're really Dragonborn, they'll want to talk to you. In the old stories, they always summon the Dragonborn for training."
"Summon?"
"You heard that Shouting, didn't you?" A thickly-built warrior emerged from the shadows of a nearby wall. His shoulders were laced with the scars of several battles, and his pale-blue eyes narrowed at the young cadet, barely visible beneath the blood-red war paint smeared over his skin.
"Shouting?" Eren asked, turning to face the man who had spoken. "What?"
"You must have heard it! Their Voices shook the ground right before the guards led you in."
Eren stared wide-eyed at the soldier as the thundering chant echoed in his mind. Before the guards had opened the gates of Whiterun to allow the Ireleth's group into the city, the chorus of raspy male voices had rang out in the air. The tundra had quivered with the reverberations of the roar, causing the young cadet to stumble.
"That was what that was?"
"It must have been! But…this hasn't happened in…centuries, at least. Not since Tiber Septim himself was summoned when he was still Talos of Atmora!" The warrior shook his head before turning to face the Jarl. "A vampire as the Dragonborn!"
"Hrongar, calm yourself!" a new, high-pitched voice echoed in the wooden halls of Dragonsreach as a bony, bald-headed man made his way down the stairs that led into the Jarl's headquarters. "What does any of this Nord nonsense have to do with this vampire? Capable as he and his companion may be at killing dragons, I don't see any signs of him being this…"Dragonborn."
"'Nord nonsense?!' Why, you puffed-up, ignorant…. These are our sacred traditions that go back to the founding of the First Empire!" Hrongar unsheathed a steel greatsword from its resting place in a scabbard between his shoulders and pointed it at the bald speaker. "You dare insult our—?!"
"Hrongar…don't be so hard on Avenicci." Jarl Balgruuf sighed through his nose.
"I meant no disrespect, of course," Avenicci stammered. "It's just that…what do these Graybeards want with him?"
"That's the Graybeards' business, not ours," the Jarl replied. "Whatever happened when Eren killed that dragon, it revealed something in him, and the Graybeards heard it. If they think he's Dragonborn, who are we to argue?"
"You're not considering letting him go?" Ireleth pointed at the young cadet with her blade. "He's a vampire!"
"He hasn't turned yet," Mikasa countered, giving Eren a quick nod. "There's a man in Morthal who said that he could cure Eren. We need to reach him before it's too late."
Too late.
Eren shuddered at the meaning of that dreaded pair of words. He had heard them spoken several times by fellow cadets describing the deaths of their family members as the titans devoured those unable to escape their crushing grasps…or flesh-slicing teeth.
Will I ever be like that? A monster?
"How much time do you think he has?" The Jarl's reply interrupted the young cadet's thoughts.
"I don't know," Mikasa whispered. "He's been having horrible fevers every day, and they keep getting more intense."
"…And if he were to turn…."
"I wouldn't be able to stop him," she finished, closing her eyes. "But the Graybeards…do you think they could cure him if we went?"
"It's possible," Jarl Balgruuf answered. "But I don't want a vampire wandering around my hold. Not when it could cost the lives of my people. Of all the people in Skyrim, a vampire had to be summoned to see the Graybeards."
"If you arrest him, he will turn. Please, let us go." Mikasa stepped forward despite facing the threat of the burly guards' blades. "Please…."
Sighing, the Jarl stood from his throne.
"There is one way," he murmured. "It's not ideal, but it may get you to High Hrothgar without threatening many lives."
"What is it?" Mikasa asked.
"There's a group of warriors in Whiterun known as the Companions. They've had experience with vampires before, and I'm sure that at least one of them knows the way to High Hrothgar. If Eren turns before you reach the Graybeards, they'll know how to…deal with him."
"Deal with him."
Eren's memory of his bloody entrance into the Survey Corps flashed in his mind. One mistake would have doomed the young cadet to being impaled upon Levi's blades.
If I make one wrong move, they'll kill me.
"Well?" Jarl Balgruuf's eyes locked with Eren's. "Will you go with them?"
"I'll do it," the chestnut-haired boy replied.
"Excellent." The ruler gave him a quick nod before shifting his gaze to Mikasa. "Ireleth will escort you to the Companions and give them their orders. I envy you, you know. To climb the seven thousand steps again…. High Hroothgar is a very peaceful place. Very…disconnected from the problems of the world. I wish you well. Both of you."
The Jarl flicked his hand at the pair of cadets, and Ireleth made her way to Eren. Sword unsheathed, the dark elf led the chestnut-haired boy toward the palace's exit. Eren did not attempt to resist but matched his steps with her quick pace.
Maybe we'll reach High Hrothgar before I turn. But if I do…. No, I can't! I have to get through this and find out about the titans! And that Scroll…the Kel….
Kel….
The word echoed in his mind as he was guided out of Dragonsreach.
No matter what happens, I have to find it! Nothing else matters...
