The Magician's Shout
As Tiren kneeled there crying, clouds filled the evening sky, and it began to rain. Tiren, not sure what to do or what to think, simply stayed there for close to a half hour as he cried and begged Akatosh to bring his father back. Finally, he decided it was best to get out of the rain, and he picked up his father's body and carried him under the cover of what was once their home.
The middle of the roof had collapsed in with the dragon's weight, but there was still as area above the beds that was still covered. Tiren laid his father down on one of the beds, and began to seriously think about what his father had showed him. Along with two messages of a sentimental nature, one was his father's dying wish for him. Tiren was to find that place, a place he always dreamed of attending and a place his father mention only briefly ever before.
The College of Winterhold.
But unfortunately, it was not that easy. Winterhold was on essentially the other side of Skyrim. A journey on foot would be perilous, and a journey by carriage or horseback would cost money he didn't have. It was nice to have a far off goal, but right now he had more immediate ones.
Tiren had to survive.
Now Tiren had lived his entire life on the Homestead. He knew how to hunt, trap, and forage; so food was something he was confident he could handle. But he had also never left his home. He knew that the Town of Falkreath wasn't too far away, and somewhere to the south, but he still had never been there.
The rain finally stopped as Tiren stood up, and he was determined to spend his last few hours of daylight productively.
He began to scavenge through the debris and rubble, looking for anything that he could use. One of the first things he found was the pack that his father had given him when he began "combat training." Remembering its weightlessness enchantment, Tiren immediately took it, as he was sure that would be invaluable.
Hoping to salvage some of his father's enchanted robes, Tiren was dismayed to find that his father's dresser had somehow fallen into the fireplace during the collapse, and a lot of his clothes were burned to a crisp. The rain had put out the fire, but the damage was done. Tiren sighed, realizing they probably wouldn't have fit him anyway. He did manage to find one dark brown mages hood that hadn't been burned though, and after quick examination he determined that it was in fact enchanted. Smiling at his success, Tiren gladly took it and moved on.
As he walked around the outside of the homestead, he saw that the livestock and even his father's horse had run off during the attack. While he certainly couldn't blame them, he was upset. They could've fetched a good price in Falkreath, and a horse could've been invaluable on this journey.
Tiren then walked over to where his father had collapsed, and saw his father's staff Stormfire. He immediately went and picked it up, and as always was astonished by it's beauty and craftsmanship. But then he noticed something strange. The grand and enchanted gems on either side of the staff weren't glowing with the aura they generally did. The staff was as dead as his Father was.
Tiren realized that Styrnbjorn must've linked his own life force to the staff, causing it to lose its power. Cursing, Tiren still picked up the staff and brought it with him. It was his Father's life's work, and Tiren officially made it part of his mission to restore it to its former glory.
It was from here that Tiren began shifting through the wreckage that was once his Father's enchanting tower. Totally knocked over by the dragon, it was simply a pile of stone now. Even still, a lot of the supplies in there were likely invaluable, and he needed all he could get.
As night fell, stopped to evaluate all that he could recover.
From inside the house Tiren was able to salvage a few basic food supplies: A knife, a three loaves of bread, a few meals worth of dried and salted meat, six apples, and a few other onions, carrots, and leeks. Not a wealth of food, but not terrible either, and Tiren would need all of it.
Tiren was disappointed though in what he found from the tower's remains. He had been in that tower just that afternoon and there had been more potions, poisons, alchemy ingredients, soul gems, spell tomes, and scrolls than he would've known what to do with! Literally a small fortune's worth of magical items.
Instead, he found that the dragon had ruined almost everything. All but a few potion vials had shattered and spilt over everything. All of the soul gems had been broken and rendered useless. Many of the alchemy ingredients had been crushed, leaving most indistinguishable. Tiren was sure there were a few weapons that Styrnbjorn had been working on, but they must've been buried further as he saw none.
Even the spell tomes and scrolls, likely the most valuable thing to Tiren, had been ruined. Poisons, potions, and rainwater had soaked all but a few, rendering all but a few of them unreadable and useless. As he collected all of his supplies, he accounted for all the tools and resources he had at his disposal.
He had enough food for a several days, provided he made it last. He also had some thin wires and rope that he could use for snares.
For weapons: he had a staff that didn't work, an orcish shortsword (if he ever got the courage to go pull it out of that dragon), a hunting bow with about ten iron arrows, and a steel dagger he had found in the rubble. Tiren felt fairly secure in his weaponry, although perhaps less secure in his ability to fight with it.
He had several sets of clothes, but no armor. The only useful apparel he had was the magic hood he found in his father's dresser. It wasn't a suit of armor, but Tiren could feel a boost in his magicka the minute he put it on. Tiren paired it with a matching brown scarf and thick wool jacket, and was content that he wouldn't freeze to death at least.
He had salvaged only two intact potions, one of cure disease and one to cure poison. Not nearly the haul it could've been, but he gladly stashed those in a side pocket of his pack.
Tiren then took inventory of all of the magic at his disposal. First, the spells he already knew: transmutation, basic healing and ward spells, a minor magelight spell, and his ever-so-handy telekinesis. All of these had their uses, but not so much should he need to defend himself.
Then he looked and the spell tomes he'd managed to salvage: The Flame spell tome his father gave him, an illusion spell called Fury, and a basic armor spell called Oakflesh. Sadly, the book that was most damaged was Tiren's most important, as his father had taken the flame tome up into his tower to keep it away from Tiren days before. And ironically enough, it was the flames spell book that had the most water damage out of the three. Still, not totally ruined and vitally important, Tiren took it with him and hoped he'd be able to decipher it well enough later.
After taking inventory Tiren felt much more secure, but he knew tomorrow would be challenging. Tomorrow he would examine the dragon again, and more importantly, he would bury his father.
But Tiren tried not to focus on that now; instead he prepared to get a needed night's rest. Tiren lied down on his bed, and tried to sleep. His eye's closed as his exhausted body found sleep easy, and his mind struggled to keep it.
-ooo-
Tiren slept terribly. The house was cold and wet, but even worse; he couldn't stop having nightmares about the dragon. Or about his father.
So when Tiren finally awoke he was not rested, but he at least welcomed the sunlight into his cold and wet home. He looked up at the sky to see a beautiful blue sky and bright sun.
Tiren chuckled to himself thinking, "Funny, on any other day I'd be celebrating Kynareth's beauty and swimming in the lake." But Tiren sighed, knowing that today could not be like those days.
About a half mile from the Homestead was a small clearing in the woods. It was utterly beautiful, with the sun shimmering down through the trees and wild flowers growing peacefully. It was here that Styrnbjorn would come to meditate and think whenever he became overwhelmed with a spell or enchantment. It was his place to think, ponder, and strategize. He never came back from that clearing without a solution. And Tiren thought it fitting that it was there that Styrnbjorn should be buried.
Tiren spent hours digging, and when the grave was finally deep enough he lowered Styrnbjorn into in slowly. He then filled in the grave, and lifted a large rock and placed it there softly to make a gravestone.
Tiren then walked around the clearing to find blue flowers to put on his grave. Tiren remembered that the blue ones were Styrnbjorn's favorite.
Once he placed the flowers down on the grave, he kneeled there at his father's grave just as he had done when he died. He thought of all the wonderful lessons and stories and jokes he'd shared with his father.
He closed his eyes, and once again saw that vision that his father had given him of the two together. He could hear his father's words again ring in his head.
"I love you son"
With that Tiren opened his eyes as one tear slid down his cheek.
"I love you too dad." Tiren said softly.
He then stood up, and left his father's grave in peace. He said a prayer to Arkay that his father's soul be looked after, and a prayer to Kynareth that his gravesite always be blessed with that same beauty.
As Tiren approached the corpse of the dragon, fear and nervousness built in his heart. But it was quickly replaced by hatred. He hated this beast for what it had done, and wished it nothing but a painful Oblivion.
But the closer Tiren got, the more his natural curiosity kicked in. And by the time he had approached it he was truly fascinated.
All hatred aside, this was the first time a dragon had appeared on Tamriel in thousands of years! He had slain the first dragon in generations, and he was ecstatic to study it. Questions began to pop in his head. Where does the fire come from? How do they harness their magic? What is their anatomy like?
One of the first things Tiren noticed though, was his shortsword lying on the ground next to the beast. Grabbing the crude blade in his hand, He placed in the leather sheathe at his belt and nodded in satisfaction.
But it wasn't sheathed for long.
Tiren began to see the dragon start to glow and he heard a crackling sound, like wood burning on a fire, but louder! He drew the blade and began to prepare himself as fear rang through his entire body.
Eventually the entire corpse was glowing a bright golden color, and finally waves of energy began flowing from the dragon to Tiren himself. His mind told his to run, but something held him back. Suddenly his vision when dark and he heard deep, and inherently inhuman, voices speak in his head. He felt a depth of knowledge that he struggled to comprehend fill his consciousness. He saw words and symbols pass through his mind in an ancient language that he'd never seen before.
And then suddenly it stopped, and when he regained his sight the dragon had become but a skeleton.
Tiren didn't believe what happened; he just couldn't understand it. It was almost like the dragon's very being was absorbed into him. It didn't make sense.
Tiren denied it in his mind, but he had heard the legends. He knew what he was even if he refused to believe it.
Talos save him.
Tiren was Dragonborn.
Author's Note: Now the story can really get rolling. A few quick notes.
I wanted to continue to make destruction spells a bit elusive to Tiren, therefore encouraging him to be creative and cunning in how he has to fight, rather than him just being able to blast anything he sees, though of course he will get it eventually. Also be prepared for creative liberties to be taken with the in-game magic.
While this is a fanfiction, and you'll see me use several characters that are in fact from the game, be prepared for me to create plenty of my own. Most of these will be based off of characters I used in past playthroughs.
Trying to find a way to make the dragon souls-to-shout dynamic work without seeming cheap (ie. Put in a soul, get a shout), is difficult. So I hope framing it from the basis of Tiren absorbing a lot of knowledge he doesn't understand that then clicks when he see's a word wall will be sufficient.
And finally, this is my first REAL fanfiction that I'm putting real effort into, and I hope you enjoy it. I also would really appreciate any feedback or criticisms, as I'm still getting the hang of this.
So please Favorite, Follow, and Review! It's that kinda stuff that will keep me motivated!