Dragonborn part 1

-The Island of Solstheim, North of Valenwood-

"AAAAAAAHHHHHH."

With force his face was shoved down into a large bucket filled with ice and water. Two hands held him down almost long enough to drown him, but just as he was about to lose consciousness he was pulled back up. Gasping for air he fell to the ground, his hands covering his face. The burns still seemed to glow in his skin and his eyes were burning in their sockets.

NAU OK KRU

Two others pulled him on his knees and forced him to look up.

A large figure loomed over him. It looked far from human, and he wondered it had ever been human. The robes were once inlayed with bone and gold, but the gold had faded and the bones were broken. The only thing that was still intact was a terrifying mask. Pale white, with a beard like a single long tentacle. Two glowing eyes pierced through the mask and now stared at him, and then it spoke. The voice was harsh and raw and spoke in the language of dragons, and yet he could understand it. How he did not know… but it was a language of fear to him. A language of domination.

"Go! Travel to Skyrim. Find the False One and kill him. You cannot fail. Bring back his head and his heart, and Our Lord will reward you with the knowledge and powers of a thousand men."

Almost unable to walk he forced himself out of the chamber and into the darkness of a room close by. The fear had left him and now there was only conviction. Only the hatred for this False One. He was given the task to kill him, and he would not fail. Tomorrow… he would round up a few others and bring the False One's head and heart… just like the master had commanded. He knew he was chosen. Him. No other… the marks on his face were given only to him. Not to others… to him!

He heard the raw voice echo throughout the dungeon again, and a surge of fear came over him. Even just being in the same area as…. That thing… was enough to make even the bravest of men cower in fear.

VOPRAAN AHZIDAL. SIIV ZAHKRIISOS. FIN IN FEN DAAL. NID FEN VUTH ROK.

After that there was silence, and he steeled himself again. Determined. Strong… he would not sleep. He would not sleep until this False One is destroyed. A small mirror was placed against the wall and he looked at his deformed, Dunmer face. But he smiled. A grin was plastered on his face and he smashed the mirror into pieces and put on his mask. Made from the bones of dragons, it hurt him… but he knew that his sacrifice would be well rewarded. For at least a century he had practiced the art of magic and war… and no mortal could stand against him. He stood alone in the room and laughed.

"Count your blessings, False One! I am coming for you!"

A few hundred miles to the south west, the wife-to-be of his target was calmly tending to her garden, seeing if the herbs had grown enough.

-Lakeview Manor, Falkreath Hold-

The day had not yet dawned and yet Serana was already awake. After twisting and turning a few times in bed, she decided to go downstairs and since she was wide awake already she went into the garden and tended to the herbs a bit. The Blisterwort, Canis root and Deathbell were all growing fast, whereas the on the other side of the garden the Mountain Flowers and Dragons Tongue were growing slower. She knew this made sense, as those flowers needed more sun and took longer to grow.

Her softly glowing red eyes peered into the darkness like it was mid-day. Her skin was ivory-pale and her hair darker than the night itself. She wore her simple tunic again that she would always wear in the garden. It was dark red and brown and was stained with dirt on plenty of places. With skilled hands she removed the unwanted weeds while pruning the plants where needed, and she was contented with it. Not a care in the world was on her shoulders, and she loved every moment of it.

A few minutes later the sun slowly rose over the eastern mountains and Serana washed her hands and decided to make dinner. She knew her cooking skill were nowhere near as good as Rayya's and yet she was improving… or so Tarrion said.

"WHA…" a voice shouted behind her and she turned around to see Rayya hold her hand over her heart while panting. "By the gods… you scared me. Normally I am the first one up."

Rayya wore her own tunic with her deep blue turban. Her dark, Redguard skin made her eyes stand out and she walked into the kitchen.

"Sorry," Serana answered with a smile. "I woke up early and decided to make breakfast."

"Oh… do you need help?"

"hmmm… yes I need some advice. Do you think Dragon's Tongue could be used in breakfast?"

"Ehh…. I have no idea… I never tried. Why do you ask?"

Serana shrugged. "Just thought I'd try something."

Rayya came standing next to her and grabbed a pitcher with milk from a cabinet and poured it into a tankard. "You ever tried it before?" she asked.

Serana shook her head. "No… but I think it can be very tasty. I mean… it does have an allure to it… and it can make you feel good."

"Very good," she added with a smirk.

Rayya looked at her with one eyebrow raised as she took a sip.

"Ahem… sorry," Serana mumbled. "I was thinking about a different Dragon's Tongue."

With a fountain of white, Rayya spit out her milk and coughed a few times before she was able to say anything. Serana, realizing she said it aloud, became red in her face and was suddenly very interested in the crust of the bread she had in front of her.
"Too many details!" Rayya shouted. "That was something I did not want to hear."

Serana chuckled and blushed. "Jealous?"

"I cannot be jealous of something I cannot have," Rayya quickly said. "I never have the change to meet someone since you two need me to be here."

And she quickly left the room, leaving Serana with mixed feelings behind.

After a few minutes Serana had finished making a simple breakfast. Since Tarrion was still asleep, she and Rayya sat outside in the morning sun, calmly drinking and eating.

"Rayya… can I ask you something?" Serana carefully asked.

"Of course," Rayya nodded.

"What did you mean by what you said earlier?"

Serana looked at the Redguard woman with a slight concern in her eyes, but there was no quick answer. Rayya finished her drink and looked out over Lake Ilinalta.

"Nothing…" she ultimately sighed.

"No," Serana said. "Nothing is a good friend of mine… and this is not nothing. You can tell me. Are we bothering you?"

Rayya immediately shook her head. "No.. no, not at all. That is not it. It's just…" she sighed again. "You have Tarrion… and he has you. A few months ago I heard that Lydia also has someone now. But I don't have someone else. If I need something I can always ask both you and Tarrion but…"

"… but you'll always be the third cow to pull the plough." Serana finished her sentence, and Rayya raised an eyebrow.

"I wouldn't describe myself as a cow… but yes. And to make matters worse we live out here. Lydia lives in Whiterun… Jordis lives in Solitude… Argis is already married… Iona can get any man she wants, especially with her looks. But the main point is that I live here… in the middle of Falkreath Hold, at least two days from Riverwood and almost four days from Falkreath. I don't get the chance to meet someone, and normally that wouldn't be a problem, but since the two of you are constantly in each other's arms… it starts to wear me down."

As Rayya poured her heart out, Serana felt guilt filling her heart. She knew that she and Tarrion had indeed been extremely close, especially during spring, but she never thought of how it would feel for Rayya.

"If we would be living in the city I would be able to go to the market and maybe meet other people there… but I don't have that. I live here… with my thane and his wife-to-be… and yet still alone."

Serana had listened to every word she said and felt guilty for not realizing it sooner. Rayya had always been there for them, and was quicker than anyone else, besides Tarrion, to accept Serana despite her Vampirism. And she had never asked for something in return… but Serana saw that she had a deep wish, but never dared to ask it since she chose duty above it.

"So… would you wish for some time for yourself?" Serana asked her. "Not be alone here… but go and travel to Falkreath… Whiterun… maybe even Solitude or Winterhold? See more of Skyrim and… meet people?"

Slowly Rayya nodded. "I would not ask it… but yes. That is a wish I have."

"Then we will make it so," Serana said happily. "You want to travel Skyrim and devote some time to yourself… then do just that. The two of us can take care of business here."

"I still cannot do so without Tarrion's permission," Rayya pointed out. "He is still my thane, and I have to obey his command."

"Oh please," Serana waved it away. "Tarrion cares deeply for you, and if you would ask him, I have no doubt he would say 'yes'. And even if he doesn't… I'll convince him."

Rayya chuckled and smiled. "How will you convince him? Will you unbutton your tunic for him?"

"My chest is his weakness," Serana nodded while chuckling.

Tarrion needed no convincing. "Of course you can. You have given everything for us, so this is the least we can do. Take as long as you need."

The same day, Rayya started packing for her journeys through Skyrim. Both Tarrion and Serana helped her, and he gave her a large coin pouch for when she needed money. Rayya knew better than to refuse and the next day, right before dawn she said her goodbyes, mounted her horse and rode off toward Whiterun.

Tarrion and Serana stayed behind and for the first two days, not much was done in the sense of chores around the house. But after a while Serana noticed she couldn't spend all of her time on top of Tarrion and the two started to see to the house. It was calm and peaceful, a life Serana had come to love more and more.

But like everything else… this too came to an abrupt end.

Tarrion's axe came down and split a log in two. The hearth was in need of new wood, and while he made some new firewood, Serana was removing the chairs from the table after cleaning the floor when she heard a few harsh knocks on the door.

It was mid-day and she wondered who might come knocking, but she thought it would likely be a courier with letters. Her shock was then great when she opened the door and saw half a dozen men and women standing in front of her. All looked equally odd, yet the one in the front looked down right terrifying.

They all wore green and yellow robes, with a crude leather band across their chests. Their gloves were made from strong, green leather and their wrists seemed to be reinforced with scales. Their robes reached down to their ankles and each of them wore a strange mask. A pale mask with strange markings with no discernible eyes. But their leader wore a different mask. It was clearly made from bones, and spikes came from both sides of his face. Strange markings like swirls were made near his eyes, and the chin was jagged with spikes.

"You there… we are looking for the one they call 'Dragonborn'," the leader barked at her. "Where can we find him?"

It took Serana a few seconds to respond, as she was still shocked by the strange masks. "Who is asking?"

The leader stepped forward. "So you know him. Where is he?"

"Again… who is asking?" Serana asked, this time louder.

"That is none of your business, bitch! Now tell us! Where is he?"

"You call her 'bitch' again… and I'll take your head off," a calm voice said and Tarrion walked around the corner of the house. He still had his axe in his hand and his chest was bared.

The leader of the group immediately addressed him. "Are you the one they call 'Dragonborn'?"

"I am… now answer her question; Who are you to ask?"

The man ignored him. "Your lies fall on deaf ears Deceiver. The True Dragonborn is coming. You are nothing compared to Him… you are but His shadow. When Lord Miraak appear all shall bear witness! None shall stand to oppose Him!"

He then turned to the men and women behind him. "Destroy the False One!" and in unison they attacked. Four went after Tarrion, and the remaining three attacked Serana.

They would have been overwhelmed by the sudden attack, but both Serana and Tarrion expected something to happen. Serana had silently charged an Ice Spear in her hand, and Tarrion had gripped his axe tighter. And so the attackers were quickly under attack by the duo. Serana, with her fast, Vampiric reflexes took all three of her attackers on at once, and thrusted her knife into a throat while impaling the other with ice. The third one tried to stab her in her back, but she deflected the blow with her hand and slit the man's throat with one move.

Tarrion buried his axe in the head of one of his attackers, and his fist knocked out the leader in one punch. The third one tried to fire a spell at him, but the Thu'um incinerated him before he could move.

YOL

The last one standing stumbled backwards when Tarrion came for her and she screamed.

"Miraak! Help me!"

But Serana appeared behind her and slit her throat before she could make another sound.

"You're alright?" he asked and Serana nodded.

"Don't worry… they didn't touch me. You?"

He shook his head. "I'm fine."

"Who were they?"

"Only one way to find out," Tarrion growled and he walked to the unconscious body of the leader. "I knocked him out… let's see what he knows," and he yanked the mask from the man's face and Serana gasped for air.

They saw that the man was a Dunmer. Over his face there was a huge scar. Like the man had suffered a cut from a flaming sword. It went from his forehead, down over his eyes, nose and mouth to his chin. His nose had become a mere stump, one eye was removed and his mouth was cloven in two. It seemed that his mask was made to torment him, because Tarrion saw small cuts all over his face that were still bleeding.

"Let's see what he knows."

Tarrion charged an ice spell in his hand, but did not fire it, and instead grabbed the man's face. The freezing cold made the man wake up and Tarrion pinned him down before he could move.

"Talk!" he barked at him. "Who are you?"

"Let me go, False One!" the man shouted, desperately trying to get away, but Tarrion was too strong for him.

"Who are you? Who in Oblivion is Miraak?"

The man stopped squirming and looked with his one eye at Tarrion. He seemed to think, and suddenly smiled, his mouth opening and blood gushing from the wounds on his lips.

"You're dead already… you just don't know it yet."

And with a move too quick for Tarrion or Serana to react, the man pulled a small knife from his sleeve and rammed it in his own throat. Blood gushed out, but Tarrion moved quickly. He pulled the knife out and cast a powerful healing spell on the man.

"You don't get away that easily."

But the wounds did not heal, and before Tarrion saw that it was not working, the man was choking and fell limp.

Serana stood still for a few moments, looking at the dead man and Tarrion stood up, shocked and surprized by the fact that his healing spell did not work.

"WHAT IN OBLIVION IS GOING ON?"

Serana shouted the words as she looked at the dead bodies, the man's mutilated face and the strange masks they were wearing. She heard what the man had said; about Tarrion being the 'False One', about the 'true Dragonborn Miraak' and none of it made any sense. She looked at Tarrion, but he seemed just as surprised as her.

Neither of them really knew what to do about this, but they decided to search the bodies, looking for any clues about what this all meant. They found a small note on the body of the leader and Tarrion read.

Board the ship 'The Northern Maiden' docked at Raven Rock. Travel to Windhelm and begin your search for the False Dragonborn. The one who calls himself 'Tarrion' and kill him before he reaches Solstheim. You cannot afford to fail or you will face the Master's wrath.

Bring both his head and his heart as proof of your success and Miraak shall be most pleased.

Serana read the note for herself and looked at Tarrion, but he seemed just as confused as her.

"Are you…. not the only Dragonborn?" Serana asked.

"Either that…" Tarrion thought aloud. "or someone has convinced a lot of people that he is one."

"So… what do we do?"

"Hmm…." Tarrion grumbled and he looked at the bodies of the cultists that now lay scattered on his property. "I would love to shrug this off, but… these guys seemed to be convinced that I am a 'False Dragonborn'. The clothing… I am not worried about… but this mask."

He held the mask in his hand and looked at it. It had apparently caused great pain to its wearer and was made specifically for that purpose.

"This mask urges me not to think of this lightly. This is not a run-of-the-mill bandit, or some cultist that has gathered a bit more power than a few others. This reminds me of something I have not faced in years."

"What?"

"Dragon Priests."

"You think a Dragon Priest may be behind this all?" Serana asked astounded. She had heard of Tarrion's adventures and of the times he faced the Dragon Priests, but she had always thought they acted on their own… commanding Draugr and other undead… but never the living. "Why do you think this?"

Tarrion thought about his answer as he stared at the face of the cultist's leader, how it was mutilated and how the mask had scarred it even more.

"Because the masks that they wear… are often made from the bones of Dragons… and…" he hesitated. "and because when I tried to put one on… I felt like it was made to hurt its wearer. This mask does the same… It is not the mask of a Dragon Priest… it has no magical power to it… and yet…"

Tarrion sighed and looked at the leader again. "Was he a Vampire? Or Undead?"

Serana shook her head. "You mean because your Healing Spell did not work?" and Tarrion nodded. "No, he wasn't. My best guess is that someone… or something… made it impossible for him to be healed… maybe as added torment with the mask. To make sure he would not try and heal himself. To ensure loyalty."

Tarrion nodded and knew she had to be right.

"So…" Serana started and she knew the answer already before she asked the question. "what do we do now?"

"I hate to say it but…" Tarrion sighed. "I think we have to go to Solstheim… and see what this all means. I have a feeling that if.. whoever is behind this.. finds out that these guys failed, they will not hesitate to send more."

"Damn." Serana whispered to herself. She had looked forward to spend time alone with Tarrion… without worries, without anything other than each other to think about. The Jarls kept to their own devices, only Elisif sending a letter occasionally with a request for advice… and the Companions also had their own things to look after, and since Tarrion was not their leader, but only an advisor they could be left to themselves. Only the College required his attention more than anything else, and every week he would receive new letters with requests and reports. Serana never expected Tarrion to drop everything for her and do nothing but spend all of his time on her… she knew it would eventually get boring… but something like this was the last thing she wanted. Now she already saw how Tarrion would have to risk his life, something he was always ready to do for the greater good, and she would have to worry sick about him. She loved him for it. She loved that he cared and she knew that once she was the subject of his willingness to do what he could to rescue and help others… and when she remembered those moments, it filled her with warmth. But now… when she saw yet again that he would have to go above and beyond to help others and save himself and her… a deep concern filled her.

But she also knew she would be there with him. Not standing on the side-line, not supporting him from afar, not be a sidekick like those in other stories… she would be right next to him, and the daedra themselves would fear her if they dared to harm him.

=End of Chapter=

=Author's Notes=

WE'RE BACK! It took a bit, but we're back! How are you all? Good? Good. I'm good too, thanks for asking. I had a bunch of problems with my laptop, reinstalling everything… rebooting it over and over again… until eventually just bought a new one. At any rate… I'm back and I'll do my best again to make the story as epic as I can.

As I said in my last chapter, this Arc will offer a lot of opportunities that I want to take. You will definitely see differences with the game… but I won't spoiler anything just yet… just be prepared :)

Dragon Language used:

NAU OK KRU: On his knees

VOPRAAN AHZIDAL: Awaken Ahzidal (Ahzidal - Bitter/Embittered Destroyer)

SIIV ZAHKRIISOS: Find Zahkriisos (Zah-krii-sos - Finite-Kill-Blood)

FIN IN FEN DAAL: The Master will return

NID FEN VUTH ROK: Nothing will stop him

YOL: Fire (From the Fire-Breath shout)