The trees were a blur of green as Girder pulled the cart, Steven and Connie slammed to the side with each turn as Fenrik incensed Girder to gallop faster.
Helgen burned as the dragon's fire raged on. It's black wings were illuminated from the burning buildings it had caused.
"We need to find Vilod," Fenrik mumbled, more to himself than the others.
"What about everybody else?" Steven asked. "Shouldn't we help everyone?" He mentally tried to block out the screams of the people he had come to know.
"We should," he said gently. "But we'll die if we spend too long there. Those who stayed to fight knew the risk."
Sections of the stone walls had crumbled, almost making a staircase to the inside of Helgen as spoke poured out. Connie readied her blade, observing the ruins with stern determination. "Plan Sword?"
Steven grabbed her hand before he replied. "No," he stated, and he met Connie's eyes when she turned in shock, which turned into relieved understanding when he explained, "Plan Sword and Shield."
Fenrik eyed the gates to Helgen. "One problem. Gates will be locked because of the execution."
A glimmer of pink appeared by Steven's hands. "That's fine. Just get us to the gate."
Glimmer continued to carry the three onwards until they neared the gate and Steven summoned his shield, allowing it to hover in front of him before he enlarged it until it was the same size as the gate. The shield slammed into it as Glimmer charged, knocking the gate cleanly off and allowing them entry.
"Fenrik, you find Vilod," Connie ordered. "We'll keep that thing busy." She looked up at the dragon.
"Gods bless you," Fenrik said solemnly. "And may you find peace in Sovngarde."
Up close, it was even more monstrous than before.
Scales as black as the midnight sky with a fire breath as deadly as the sun. It's claws, long and sharp, were dripping with blood of those it had slain.
The two took a brief look around at the remains that were once Helgen.
Torolf and Matlaras' home had been reduced to a cindering pile of wood, their charred corpses lay on the floor, almost touching but still together. Matlara's sword, formerly used as a wall decoration, was clutched in her hand until Connie recovered it and wordlessly passed it to Steven to store in his gem. The inn was little more than a shattered remnant of its former glory, with beds and mead scattered on its floor.
The few remaining citizens of Helgen, mainly the guards, were attempting to fell the dragon with arrows and fireballs they summoned, all accepting of their fates.
Steven and Connie stepped forwards, hand in hand, a light enveloping them before Stevonnie stood in their place.
Even in their own universe, Steven and Connie were extraordinary abnormalities.
Steven was the result of love between an alien conqueror and the race she was meant to rule.
A boy thrust into a war, who chose to protect all who stood with him in the name of peace.
Connie was the person he needed. The one who saw the danger he willingly embraced, and chose to stand by his side regardless.
The brain to his emotion, the tactician to his impulse, the fighter to his pacifist.
Stevonnie was both of these things and more.
Stevonnie was peace and war, the fighter and the protector.
A sword and shield given almost human form.
Stevonnie glared at the dragon, and for a second their eyes met, wicked draconic versus determined brown.
Drawing their sword, Stevonnie jumped rapidly summoning and shattering pink platforms to rise higher, before she struck.
One precision blade strike directly between the beast's eyes as the dragon looked on smugly.
The metal sunk into the flesh, and the dragon gave a brief roar of tortured pain before it fell to the floor, dead.
That is what Stevonnie hoped, almost expected, to happen.
What really happened was far different.
Stevonnie put all their might behind the sword blow only for the blade to harmlessly glance off the dragon's scales as though the strike was a minor annoyance. The dragon sneered, its mouth stretching into a mocking smile. "Foolish mortal," its voice boomed, deep and raspy. "Prepare to perish." It's head lunged with a surprising speed, snapping down over Stevonnie. If it wasn't for Stevonnie quickly summoning a Bubble Shield around them, their death would have been inevitable. The teeth tightened until the bubble burst and the two were flung from the beast's jaw, landing in a heap on the rocky ground.
Near them, Fenrik had found Vilod, both on the floor as the latter bled, his leather armor reduced to scraps as his torso showed the brunt of claw slashes.
Fenrik futilely tried to slow the blood loss, his hands pressed around the wound which bled around him. Connie pulled Fenrik off of Vilod's dying body, "Fenrik, come one. Remember what you said 'We'll die if we spend too long here,'" she begged. Fenrik gave one last tearful glance to Vilod before he walked/pulled in the direction of Girder by Connie who was giving Steven a pointed look.
Steven waited until Fenrik was turned before he made his move. He put his hand to his mouth and licked, coating it in a thick layer of his saliva, and then pressed it to Vilod's torso. The healing effect was almost instantaneous. The injury, seconds ago bloody and deadly, healed with the skin pulling together tightly. His flesh was now raw and fresh, but no longer at any risk of imminent death.
Steven helped Vilod to his feet as the man stared at him in mute shock at his sudden health and wellness. "Ready to run?" Steven asked. Vilod, still soundless, shook his head. "That's fine," Steven reassured. And with no effort Steven scooped the man in his arms and ran after Fenrik and Connie. Placing Vilod on the cart, much to the shock of Fenrik, Steven gave an order to Fenrik. With one final look of remembrance to Helgen, now little more than a ruin of corpses and the dying. "Let's get out of here."