A/N:
Woot 25 chapters! For those of you that missed the last chapter- Lydia came back to the Inn extremely pissed. Horax asked Leles to hide the journal because he wanted to keep his affair with Alva a secret. Horax goes off to Alva's house, cue to blood and gore, and now she is dead as a door nail. Finally, Lydia and Leles meet up with Horax at night and continue on to whiterun.
Chapter 25: Whiterun at Last
All 3 of us could agree that after a good day of travel, the climb between the stables and the gates of Whiterun was mountainous. Once again, we dragged our dirty, smelly bodies up the sloping road.
"I'm dying! I'm burning!" Horax slammed into the door behind him as he slid down to the stone tile floor.
"You should see what Meeko did to your alchemy storage." Lydia called in a monotone from the steps as she hiked to her room.
"You, no going outside. I'm- I'm taking a nap."
When I turned to look at the elf, he was already sprawled out on the floor, asleep. Or resting? Whatever it was the vampires do. I removed the crusted boots on his feet and placed our staves upstairs. Slowly, I creeped across the the floor to Lydia's door, and pressed an ear to the lock.
"Go away, Leles."
Damn. Clearly, my sneak skill was in need of improvement.
"You sure you don't want to get some rest?"
"I'm human. I sleep at night."
Horax had a remarkable collection of books. He had filled up the bookshelves in the sitting area and was working on a new library in his alchemy room. Several bugs crawled around the floor of the tiny room while eyeballs and eggs rolled around the floor. Meeko sat guilty in the doorway, watching as I scooped handfuls of various salts into bowls. I traced the edges of the ornate book spines, searching for something I could make use of. Several spell tomes stood out, intricate etchings on their cover.
Every being, Man, Mer, and beast races alike, is connected to the eternal river of Magicka that flows from Atherius itself. Only the strong few, however, are able to harness and manipulate the raw energy that is Magic. The simplest of magic can be exemplified in the use of spells. Each spell is categorized into one of 6 schools: Alteration, Conjuration, Destruction, Illusion, Mysticism, and Restoration. The school of destruction magic is divided into three different categories: Frost, Fire, and Shock. Spells falling under the school of destruction are focused on causing damage to a target, living or non-living.
So far, I was following.
Flame is by far the simplest of destruction spells to perform. All living beings have the fire of life within them, breathed into them at birth by the Divine Arkay. One must simply delve into their flow of magicka and call upon the element of flame, connecting to the embers...
I shut the book and shoved it back into it's slot on the shelf. Apparently I was indeed connected to this world but the idea of pulling fire out of my veins was so far beyond me not even a "Casting Fire for Dummies" book was bound to save me. If I had any hope in learning a spell, what I needed was training. I shuffled off to Horax's bedroom, Meeko following in trail. Sighing into the pillow, I turned my gaze to the outline of the dragonstone in the knapsack on the drawers. Tonight was going to be quite the night indeed.
I awoke to the buckling of boots and the scraping of metal. The smell of roasting meat and spices drifted through the cracks in the floor boards. Heading down the steps, I found Lydia dressed in her steel armor, picking at a loaf of Horker. She turned the spit and offered me a plate.
"Do you have enough... energy for tonight?" I asked, slicing a slab of dark meat and shoveling it into my mouth.
"Yes. I already ate." Horax slipped his last boot on. He was no longer wearing his robes. Instead, he was dressed in black leather armor from neck to toe. It must have been specially made for him because it was nothing I had seen before. Small pockets and belts appeared in numerous places, the thigh, the chest, the upperarm, probably for stowing bottles of poison and small daggers. I squinted my eyes and looked closer. A black hand print, even darker than the already nightly shade of his armor, adorned his chest. That certainly laid my mind to rest.
"Why aren't you dressed?" The elf snapped the last buckle of his black boots.
"I.. You want me to go with you?"
He nodded his head. "You've 'fought' a dragon or two in your time. Besides, you were at Helgen. At least you know how to run from them. Go on upstairs. I laid something out for you."
I took my plate of Horker with me up stairs. The knapsack on the dresser was now replaced by red and black armor. I picked it up and turned it over. Dark Brotherhood. The blood of dozens must have been scrubbed off of the leather. I shivered. I bet someone died in this. I squeezed myself into the armor and began fastening the belts and buckles when Horax's voice caused me to jump around to face the doorway.
"You know, it actually fits you well." The elf smiled, leaning on the door frame.
"It's a bloody cat suit." I picked at the leather at my rear. Unfortunately, it was quite the snug fit. I jumped around, performing several lunges and squats to loosen the leather from the bendy areas of my body. "May I ask who it belonged to?"
"Nobody actually. It was to large for our smallest member."
"Well," I began, following Horax down the stairs and out into the night. "I hope I'm not the first person to die in it."
My ears were ringing, throat burning, heart pumping out of my chest. I dropped to my stomach as a blaze of fire spouted through the thin fortress walls. Strands of fly away hair from my ponytail caught on fire. I swiped at my head, making sure no flames remained. Horax and Lydia were shouting back and forth from the top of the Western Watch Tower. I crawled up a few steps before realizing the only thing I could possible succeed in was getting myself burnt to a crisp.
Horax was firing away with his ebony bow, lodging poisoned arrows into the thick scaly skin of the beast.
"I need to get down there." He placed his bow on his back and whipped around to the spiral staircase. Lydia grabbed his shoulder.
"There's no need. We can take it down from up here."
"I feel like I need to be down there." He pulled his shoulder from her grip and hurried down the steps. "Just stay up here."
Horax passed me on the stairs. He was moving swiftly. I sprang to my feet and followed him till we reached the floor of the tower.
"Should I come?" I huffed through rapid breathing.
Horax didn't bother to turn around. "Stay here and try not to shoot the guards." He exited the tower into a cloud of black smoke.
I took my position at a thin window and drew my bow, in search for a dragon. I cursed loudly as my vision was obscured by a thick layer of ash and smoke.
Perhaps the crazy in me decided it was tired of hiding because before the thoughts got to my brain, my legs were racing out the door. In the distance, Horax was casting sheets of ice onto the Fire dragons joints. The guards scrambled around it and slashed their swords against it's body, which only seemed to anger it. I darted behind large blocks of stone, leaping and jumping away from the bursts of fire tracking me down. Once again the dragon's attention was focused on the attacking guards. I took my chance and ran behind Horax.
"Get it's eye!" I screamed. The elf jumped, startled by my appearance but his gaze never broke from the winged creature in front of him.
It's jaws snapped at a nearby guard, grabbing them by the head and swinging it carelessly against the tower. Irileth was screaming orders, but no one was able to make them out. She stabbed her sword into the leg of the beast. The sword was stuck and Irileth desperately tried to pull it out before the dragon's tail whipped her off her feet.
"What?" Horax backed away and raised his head as the dragon took to the smoke filled night air. A wave of arrows swiftly brought it back to it's feet, crushing several guards under it's claws. I pushed Horax forward as the dragon turned to face the remaining guards.
"It's head!" I drew an arrow and coughed from my clouded lungs. My hands were shaking violently. the first arrow landed somewhere in the deep ridges of the grey beasts eye socket. My second arrow hit somewhere along its jaw, mouth lined with fresh blood.
Horax drew his ebony blade and ran forward. He reached up to grab a thick black horn and swung himself onto Mirmulnir's head. The Dragon was screeching and shaking violently, but Horax held on. With an adrenaline filled shout, the Altmer rushed to his feet and grabbed hold of the dragon's nostril. Mirmulnir tossed him up and down as he jolted his head in rage. Raising his ebony sword, Horax brought the blade into the dragon's yellow eye. Blood spilled down his grey jaw.
Mirmulnir shouted a death cry into the violent air of the Whiterun sky. "Dovahkiin! No!"
Horax plunged his sword into the last eye of the dragon before leaping off to the ground. The now lifeless body of Mirmulnir slowly began to burn away, revealing the bones beneath its thick scaled. Lydia had made her way down from the tower and ran along side Irileth. I stood next to Horax whose eyes followed the rising ash skyward to the moon.
A swirl of orange light encircled Horax as he stood in his spot. His face expressed panic as he turned to me. I watched in awe, jaw dangling open. The bright beams of orange trickled in the air as he attempted to take a step.
A whiterun guard shouted from his spot near the dragon bones. "I can't believe it. You're... Dragonborn! In the oldest tales, back when there were still dragons in skyrim, the dragonborn would slay dragons and steal their power. That's what you did, Isn't it? Absorbed the dragon's power."
Horax turned to me for confirmation. I nodded, mouth still open.
"I believe you're right." He wiped away a stream of blood from his cheek.
"There's only one way to find out. Try a shout."
"Shout? I don't know a..."
"Horax," he was already staring at me. "What did you find in Bleak falls barrow?"
"Nothing, you took what we came looking for."
I could hear Irileth and the Whiterun guards arguing over the concept of a Dragonborn. Lydia was peeking through the ribs of the dragon's ribcage. A pile of gold lay nestled underneath.
"Think, there was a wall. What did it say?"
"It wasn't any Tamrielic language I've seen." He shrugged his shoulders
"Just think! You're Dragonborn. You know what it means."
Horax paused and scrunched his face. I wobbled next to the guard in front of him and held my breath. The vampire Dragonborn made himself inhale before closing his eyes and letting out a roar.
The guard next to me stumbled back a bit and then clapped his hands, face glowing in awe. I, however, picked myself up from 3 meters away, face full of dirt.