Dovahkiin
As night fell Emily picked up her cloak and clasped it about her shoulders before picking her pack up from where it leant against the wall.
"Well, we'd better get going," she said as she made her way towards the cave exit. The cave let out onto the steep side of a frosty mountain, overlooking Lake Illinalta. Below them there were the bleached white bones of a mammoth, partially overgrown with weeds. They carefully scaled the mountainside and dropped to the grassy plains below. Here they made their way down towards the lake and followed its banks westward toward Riverwood. As the lights of Riverwood came into view Serana turned to Emily.
"Em, I'll take the claw back to Riverwood," she said, "You go on ahead to Whiterun."
"Are you sure?" Emily asked, "It won't take long to hand over the claw." Serana shook her head.
"Getting that Dragonstone to Farengar is more important," she replied.
"Alright," said Emily at length, "I'll meet you at Dragonsreach."
With that they parted ways, Serana making for the distant lights of Riverwood while Emily continued to follow the river which ran from Lake Illinalta down towards the sea. She re-joined the cobblestone road past Riverwood and followed it down towards the city of Whiterun.
At last she reached the city gates and, after explaining her purpose to the guards, was allowed in. She hurried along the city streets and made the climb up to Dragonsreach, still clutching the Dragonstone in her hands. The guards watched her as she passed and she heard one or two of them pass comment among one another.
She stopped outside the tall wooden doors of Dragonsreach and heaved at them, pushing them slowly open. They shut with a heavy bang behind her and she hastened on up the stairs. To her relief the court wizard was still at his desk, looking over a set of papers. Standing next to him was a figure in full leather armour, their face cowled.
"As you can see the terminology is clearly First Era or even earlier. I believe this to be a copy of a much older text, perhaps dating to just after the Dragon War," he said, pointing to a paragraph of scrawled text, "If so, I could cross-reference the names with other later texts."
"Good, I'm glad you're making progress," said the figure. The voice was calm, levelled and clearly belonged to a woman, "My employer's are anxious to have some tangible answers."
"Oh, have no fear," Farengar assured her waving one hand in a dismissive manner, "The Jarl himself has finally taken an interest so I can devote much of my time to this research. Now," he pulled aside another sheet of paper that was covered in diagrams of various sizes, "Take a look at this. I think you're employers will be interested as well."
Just then the woman looked up and caught Emily's gaze as she stood, holding the dragonstone.
"You have a visitor," she said in a hushed tone which made Farengar look up.
"Hmm?" he said. Then he spotted the Dragonstone in Emily's hands. "You have it, the Dragonstone." He hurried over to her and Emily handed him the heavy stone slab. "This will do wonders for my research. My…" he hesitated for a moment, "Associate here discovered its location through means she has so far declined to share with me." He turned back to the woman. "Well, it seems your information was correct after it all and we have our friend here to thank for recovering it." The woman regarded Emily with what appeared to be a cool interest.
"You went into Bleak Falls Barrow and got that?" came her response with a note of vague surprise, "Nice work." Then she turned back to Farengar. "Just send me a copy when you've deciphered it." As Farengar made to reply Emily heard running footsteps and a voice called out.
"Farengar, Farengar," came the voice. Then the Dunmer woman who served as Jarl Balgruuf's housecarl reached the doorway and stood leaning against the frame for a moment, catching her breath, "You need to come at once. A dragon's been sighted nearby." She turned, her sharp red eyes falling upon Emily. "You should come too."
"Wha- Me?" said Emily.
"Yes, you, now come on." With that she turned on her heel and ran for the steps to one side of the Jarl's throne. On her way there she paused by one of the guardsmen who stood to one side and motioned for him to join her.
"A dragon," said Farengar in wonderment, leaving his desk, all previous thoughts forgotten in light of this revelation, "Where was it seen? What was it doing?"
"I'd take this a bit more seriously if I were you," Irileth said over her shoulder, "If a dragon decides to attack Whiterun I don't know if we can stop it." They reached the top of the stairs where Jarl Balgruuf was waiting for them.
"So, Irileth tells me you came from the Western Watchtower," he said, addressing the guard. Irileth turned back to him.
"Tell him what you told me. About the dragon," she said. It was then that Emily noticed that the edges of his armour were singed and smoking. With halting words the man gave his account of his experience at the Watchtower. With each word Emily felt more and more certain that this was not a matter she wished to be involved in and she wished Serana were there. She found herself wondering how far from the city she was likely to be.
Then the Jarl turned to her. "I want you to go down to the Western Watchtower with Irileth. You were at Helgen so you have more experience with dragons than anyone else here."
"I don't know how much help I'll be," Emily replied, "Most of my experience was in running away."
"Be that as it may, you saw it, you likely saw how it attacked," said the Jarl, "Even that will be of some advantage. Now, go." As she and Irileth made to leave the Jarl spoke up once more.
"One more thing, Irileth, this isn't a death or glory mission," he said, "I need to know what we're dealing with."
"Yes, my Jarl," Irileth replied, "I am the very soul of caution." As Emily followed the retreating back of the Dunmeri housecarl she had serious doubts on that claim. They hurried down the steps and across the lavishly carpeted floors towards the front doors.
"What happened to your companion?" said Irileth over her shoulder as they ran.
"She went to Riverwood to return the key to the Barrow," Emily explained, "I was supposed to meet her here."
"We can't hang around waiting, I hope you realise that," said Irileth as they reached the door and pulled it open. Emily didn't reply but followed the Dunmer down through the city streets. The braziers outside the buildings burned brightly in the gloom, throwing the shops and taverns into sharp relief. Emily could smell smoke in the air and it reminded her starkly of the flight from Helgen. Irileth led her down the main street towards the guards' barracks where several men and women already stood at the ready. They fidgeted nervously, gripping their weapons tightly and one or two shifted from one foot to the other. Irileth stopped just in front of them and Emily came to a halt next to her.
"Here's the situation," she said as she stood before them, "A dragon is attacking the Western Watchtower." At these words several pairs of eyes widened and there was a murmur of consternation among them.
"You heard right," said Irileth as she began pacing to and fro before them, "I said, a dragon. I don't care much for where it came or who sent it. But I do know it has made the mistake of attacking Whiterun."
"But housecarl," one of the men spoke up, "How can we fight a dragon?"
"That's a fair question," the Dunmer admitted, "None of us have ever seen a dragon, let alone expecting to face one in battle. But what I do know is that we are honourbound to fight it, even if we fail. This dragon is threatening our homes, our families. Could you call yourselves Nords if you ran from this monster? Are you going to let me face this thing alone?" These last few words were almost shouted and the Nords shifted uneasily under her gaze.
"No housecarl," came a few voices but Emily distinctly heard one among them mutter, "We're so dead," and she found she identified far more with this poor soul than either the stern and commanding Dunmer or those others who were either stirred to action by her words or simply too scared to turn back.
"But it's more than our honour that's at stake here," she continued, "Think of it. The first dragon in Skyrim seen since the last age. The glory of killing it is ours." There was a kind of manic energy in her red eyes now, what Serana referred to as battlelust. "Now, what do you say? Shall we go kill us a dragon?" At these words she drew her sword and held it above her head. There was an outcry from the gathered Nords, stronger than the first and, now stirred into action, they moved as a group towards the main gate.
Emily joined them as they ran across the drawbridge and down towards the farmland. A figure was running at full pelt as they hurried past the stables. The fire from the brazier lit her up for a brief second as she passed and Emily, with a wave of relief, recognised her.
"Serana," she called out, charging ahead of Irileth.
"I came as soon as I could," Serana said as she reached her, "I saw a dragon as I was leaving Riverwood. It flew down this way."
"It's that dragon we're following now," Emily replied, gesturing back to Irileth and the soldiers, "It's a long story."
"Well, you can explain later," said Serana, "Let's go." Now with Serana in tow they continued down the cobblestones towards the crossroads.
The Western Watchtower was located not far from the city, its purpose to serve as an early warning to attack. They had passed by it several times before in the past on their travels. It was the tallest structure outside the city, built of stone with yellow banners waving from its highest reaches. But when they drew near to it the saw that the banners had been burned to only a few tattered ribbons, several lumps of stone lay far from the tower and flames leaped from many a surface. Emily scanned the skies but besides the smoke that filled the night air she saw little.
"Where is it?" she asked as Irileth led them from the road to a lump of rock that lay close by.
"No sign of it now," she conceded as she peered over the rock, "But it sure looks like he's been here. Come on, we need to search for survivors. Get any wounded to safety. Stay vigilant, in case that dragon's still skulking around somewhere." With that she led them out from behind the rock and the warriors with her looked around warily with each step. Emily kept close to Serana as they advanced on the tower. She clutched her bow tightly and her legs felt liable to give way at any moment. As they reached the tower they were met by one of the guards. He had a hunted look to him and he crouched warily against the stonework.
"No, get back," he called down to them hoarsely, "It's still here somewhere. Hroki and Tor got grabbed when they tried to make a run for it." Then he shrank back against the stones as a roar echoed down from the mountains. "Kynareth save us, here he comes again." As one they all looked to the mountains. There, gliding down from the mountaintops, flew a dark ragged shape. It roared again and Irileth began barking orders to her warriors. They scattered, each trying to find a safe vantage point from which to snipe the beast. It dropped from the sky, landing heavily on the top of the tower and sending a cascade of rubble raining down upon them.
"Brit grah," he yelled down at them. Then he reared back and opened his maw. "Yol Tor Shuul," he cried and with his voice came flames that charged down over the stonework towards them. Emily and Serana dove to one side, dodging behind a great lump of fallen stonework. Emily saw that Serana's eyes were wide with terror. There was little that could frighten the vampiress but fire was one of the few exceptions. Emily pulled an arrow from her quiver and peered back over the rock. The dragon had risen up from the tower and was now circling overhead. She let the arrow fly and from the distance between her and the dragon it was difficult to tell if it had hit. It wheeled around and flew down toward them, talons outstretched. To Emily's horror she saw him grab a guard around the middle and soar with him up into the sky before dropping him from his great height. Emily heard him cry out in fear and despair as he plummeted to his death. Each of the guards had their bows drawn and all were aiming at the dragon as it wheeled around again. The sole exception was Irileth who wielded lightning that flashed on her palms and leapt in great arcs up towards the dragon. It roared in anger was one bolt struck him and he soared down, landing heavily among them and staggering those nearest. They recovered and his roars were answered by a volley of arrows. Serana seized her chance, aiming from their vantage point. The arrow struck the dragon in its wing and tore straight through, causing it to roar in pain once again. Emily joined her, swapping her bow for lightning and striking the dragon in its scaly chest. Enraged it flew up from the ground, sending up clouds of dust and earth which briefly blinded those closest. The guards stopped, rubbing the dusty from their eyes and squinting into the skies where the dragon had flown. It was circling around the tower once more, roaring.
"You are brave. Bahlaan hokoron. Your defeat brings me honour," he thundered as he veered down to his left, breathing a scorching breath across the plains that set the dry grasses and spindly bushes alight. The skies were clouded by the plumes of smoke and the acrid smell of burning caught in the lungs of the warriors and stung the eyes of both them and the vampires. He turned and fell among the guards, biting and tearing at all within reach, crawling forward on sturdy hindlegs and wings. His next bite tore one of the guards in two and he spat out his grisly prize as two other guards drew back, white-faced beneath their iron helms. Emily aimed another blow at the dragon and it struck him on the side of his head. He turned and was met by a hail of arrows. Some bounced off his scaly hide but others embedded themselves in the comparatively soft flesh of his underside.
"Nothing stops it," Emily cried in desperation as the dragon turned on another of the guards, biting savagely.
"Keep firing," came Irileth's voice over the din. A surge of lightning arced from her palms and struck the beast full in the face. It reared back momentarily and Emily saw her chance. She nocked an arrow and sent it flying towards the rearing dragon. It struck true, embedding itself in the scaly neck and the dragon flailed its head from side to side. Its wings were now torn to ribbons from arrows and spells alike. Serana loosed a bolt of lightning that followed Emily's arrow. They converged on it. The dragon breathed a gout of flame but they leapt to one side, continuing onward toward it, loosing bolts of lightning as they ran. One after another they struck and with a last wild writing movement the dragon reeled backward. His tattered wings clawed at the sky.
"Dovahkiin? No!" he cried as he fell to the earth. For several moments all on the battlefield stood stock still, watching the body of the scaly beast for any signs of movement. At last Emily took a few cautious steps forwards.
"Is it dead?" she asked warily. Then she recoiled as flames grew, leaping along the scales and the terrifying horns and talons, burning them away to nothing before their eyes. A strange searing energy gathered about the fallen beast and Emily's eyes widened as it gathered about her, filling her eyes with light. All sound from around her melted away and she heard roars filling the air around her. She looked down and saw the world far below her. Visions of plains, forests and mountains filled her eyes. Then it all faded into blinding light and once more she was standing upon the plains of Whiterun before the bones of the vanquished dragon.
"I can't believe it," said a voice close by, "You're Dragonborn." It was one of the guards who had come running towards them following the dragon's demise.
"Dragonborn?" Emily repeated, "What do you mean?"
"In the very oldest tales, back from when dragons still roamed Skyrim, the Dragonborn would slay dragons and steal their power. That's what you just did, absorbed the dragon's power."
"Hold on, I hardly know what happened," Emily replied, "I can't be Dragonborn."
"Dragonborn, what are you talking about," came another voice as another three guards joined the first.
"That's right," said the second, "My grandfather used to tell me stories about the Dragonborn. Those born with the dragonblood in 'em. Like old Tiber Septim himself."
"I don't remember Tiber Septim killing any dragons," said a third, folding his arms. Emily edged a little closer to Serana and further from the still smouldering bones of the dragon.
"There weren't any dragons then, idiot," snapped the first guard, "They're just coming back for the first time in…forever." He turned back to Emily. "But the old tales tell of the Dragonborn who could slay dragons and steal their power. You must be one." Emily didn't know how to reply but another of the guards saved her from having to do so as he turned to Irileth.
"What do you say, Irileth? You're being awfully quiet." And then another added. "Yes, tell us, Irileth. Do you believe in this Dragonborn business?" Irileth pursed her lips and folded her arms.
"Hmph, some of you would be better keeping quiet than flapping your gums on matters you don't know anything about," she said. Then she nudged the dragon's skull with her boot, "Here's a dead dragon and that's something I definitely understand. Now we know we can kill them." She wore a grim smile as she spoke this last sentence. She raised her head once more and regarded them. "But I don't need some mythical Dragonborn. Someone who can put down a dragon is more than enough for me."
"You wouldn't understand, housecarl, you ain't a Nord," one of the guards replied good-naturedly enough.
"I've been all across Tamriel," Irileth retorted, folding her arms, "And I've seen plenty of things just as outlandish as this. I advise for you all to trust in the strength of your sword arm over tales and legends."
"If you really are Dragonborn, you should be able to shout, that would prove it," said the guard.
"Shout?" said Emily. She had seen others use the Thu'um before but had always believed it to be a power far beyond her own. A power belonging to the ancient draugr, to the likes of Ulfric Stormcloak and the Nordic heroes of old. How could she, an Earthling, possess this ability. But then she considered those days spent studying spells in the Solitude apothecary or alongside her vampiric companion on their travels. She had never once considered magic to be something she could wield and yet here she was. She took a deep breath and a single word came to her, outshining all others she knew. It was a short simple word and she opened her mouth and shouted.
"FUS!" And as she did so a blue light swirled from her open mouth and a strong wind blew on her breath, flattening the grass before it and scattering small pebbles across the plains.
"That was shouting, what you just did," said the guard, a note of reverence in his voice, "You really are Dragonborn." Emily looked to Serana who returned her gaze, her expression one of calm surprise.
"Dragonborn or not, you should return to Whiterun," said Irileth, "The Jarl needs to know what happened." Emily nodded and, glad of an excuse to get away, she and Serana left the Western Watchtower.
"This is impossible," Emily said as they ran, "I can't be Dragonborn. That can't happen."
"Why not?" came Serana's question.
"Several reasons," Emily replied as she slowed to a walk and Serana matched her pace, "For one, I'm an Earthling. Dragonborn have the blood of a dragon, how could an Earthling have the blood of something native to Tamriel? And there supposed to be warriors and heroes. That's not me." At these words Serana smiled.
"I might have to disagree with you on that last point," she said, "That bow didn't come to you by chance," she gestured to Auriel's bow which was still strapped across her back, "And being a mighty warrior? There are more important things, Em." Emily smiled back at the vampiress.
"Come on, let's get back to the city," said Serana, resting a hand on Emily's shoulder. They reached the crossroads and began to follow the road that would take them up past the stables to the city. The moons had just reached their highest point in the night sky and a few clouds had blown in from the North, mingling with the smoke from the ruined watchtower. A brisk wind was blowing down over the thatched roofs and through the pastures. They passed under the stone archway that separated the stables and farm buildings from the city.
All of a sudden a mighty booming sound echoed down from the mountains and the words, "Dov-ah-kiin!" rumbled across the plains, making them both spin around in the direction it was coming from. It seemed to have come down from the mountains and it brought the stableman from his house and the stablehands from the barn where they stood, staring up at the mountains. One of them was pointing up towards the highest peak.
"What on Nirn was that?" asked Emily as she stared, wide-eyed, at the mountain.
"I have no idea," Serana replied.
"Let's get back to the Jarl," Emily said hastily before hurrying up towards the gate. Serana followed and they stopped only when they reached the town gates.
"By the gods, the greybeards," Emily heard one of the men say as they stopped before the guards.
"You, you went off to fight that beast," said the other, pointing to Emily, "Is it…is it really dead?"
"Yes, it's dead," Emily replied, "Irileth and the guards helped us kill it. We need to get to Dragonsreach and tell the Jarl."
"Of course," the guard replied before signalling up the guard on top of the gate who turned the great metal crank, opening the sturdy oak gates.
People were standing in the streets, many of whom were in their night things. Children clustered about their parents, asking questions excitedly of their elders and pointing at the mountain which towered over the city. Emily saw the Blacksmith and her husband standing by the forge and two or three revellers huddled together to keep their balance as they stood outside the Drunken Huntsman. There were excited whispers from every corner as they walked along the city streets towards the market. Hulda, the Innkeeper, the two barmaids and the bard, Mikael, were standing outside the Bannered Mare.
"Can the legends really be true?" Serana heard Hulda asking of Mikael.
They climbed the steps to the Wind district where they found more of the town's residents standing outside. Some were gathered by the big dead tree in the centre of the plaza and the guards were busily trying to get them to return to their houses.
At last they reached Dragonsreach and pushed open the big wooden doors, stepping inside. The Jarl was waiting for them at his throne, standing by it rather than sitting as he eagerly awaited any news they brought.
"Well?" he asked as they approached, "Was the dragon there?"
"Yes, the dragon was there," Emily replied, "It destroyed the watchtower but we managed to kill it."
"Good, I knew I could count on Irileth," said the Jarl with a note of relief evident in his voice, "But there must be more to it than that." He was looking at them expectantly.
"The guards there, they called me Dragonborn," said Emily, "When it died, there was this blinding flash of light and some kind of power flowed from it to me."
"So it was you the Greybeards were summoning," replied the Jarl.
"The who?" said Emily.
"The Greybeards, masters of the Way of the Voice," the Jarl explained, "They live in their monastery, High Hrothgar, high on the slopes of Skyrim's highest peak, the Throat of the World." A man stepped forward from his place by one of the long tables that lined either side of the firepit in the centre of the hall. He was bald with a tawny beard, his face lined with red warpaint. He wore scaled armour and carried a greatsword strapped across his back, every inch the Nordic warrior.
"Didn't you hear the thundering sound as you returned to Whiterun?" he asked.
"We heard it alright," Emily replied. The man folded his arms.
"That was the sound of the Greybeards summoning you," he explained.
"But what do they want with me?" Emily asked, turning back to the Jarl.
"They are masters of the Thu'um, the same Thu'um you have been gifted with the power to use," said the Jarl, "They can teach you how to use your gift. High Hrothgar is a very peaceful place, remote and difficult to get to. I made the pilgrimage once when I was younger."
"And that's where we have to go?" Emily replied. The Jarl nodded.
"There's no refusing the summons," he said.
"I was afraid you were going to say that," Emily said wryly.
"I will send you along with a guide, it's the least I can do after you helped save the city, Dragonborn," said the Jarl, "Hrongar, I want you to send for Lydia."
"Of course," said Hrongar as he turned on his heel and left the room.
"Lydia is a capable warrior and has made the pilgrimage herself," the Jarl explained, "She is well travelled and knows a good deal about the land around High Hrothgar. You'll be safe with her. But first, there is one most thing I should do, in recognition of your bravery, both of you. I name you Thanes of Whiterun. It is the highest honour in my power to give."
"Thank you, Jarl Balgruuf," said Emily, giving a short bow as she had seen Irileth do. As she stood up straight Hrongar returned. At his shoulder stood a woman in Whiterun livery. She had dark hair and a single plait hung down the side of her head. Her expression was stern as she regarded the two before her and Emily wondered for a moment if they wouldn't have been better travelling to High Hrothgar with Irileth.