We stood in the yard between the house and the foot of the Throat. The breeze would occasionally blow, but what might be a gust out front would be a strong wind near the cliff. There were many low rocks by the cliff. I sat myself down on one, waiting for Ri'saad to retrieve our new spell book from indoors while Lydia stood off to the side, practicing archery on a target nailed to a tree. The sound of the side door jolted me to attention. Ri'saad brought the book over to me and flipped it to the page that taught the conjuration of a Familiar.
"It took you long enough," I groaned.
"Ri'saad apologizes. This one would have brought it earlier had Ri'saad not spilled mead on the pages."
"Nice one," Lydia quipped, as she shot another arrow.
Ri'saad spun around and said, "It was not this one's fault!" He looked back to me and sighed. "All right, it was. This one can still read it, though."
He handed the book to me. I read through the entry, which was surprisingly small. As hinted by the name, the spell conjures a powerful familiar figure for defense. After waiting a few moments, I got up, and prepared the spell. The magicka concentrated within my palm, and I cast it at the ground. A figure steadily formed into the vague shape of a wolf before collapsing. My fists clenched.
"Augh, it shouldn't be this hard! It's a basic conjuration spell!"
"Karal'e, this is your first try. Calm down," Ri'saad said as he moved for his turn. He cast the spell, summoning a small house-cat, which trotted around and rubbed against my legs. Lydia, who had turned to watch, doubled over in hysterical laughter. Ri'saad shed his arm guards, threw them to the ground, and stormed back inside.
I crept into his room, where he lay on his bed with his hands hiding his face. He wasn't crying, but I still had an unexplainable urge to comfort him. He removed his hands from his face, laying them by his sides. I gently grasped his arm. As I was about to ask him what was wrong, he jumped ahead with an answer.
"Just weak and useless, that's all this one is," he spat.
"There's no reason for you to think that."
He turned his head to face me, the candlelight flickering on his face. "This one doesn't learn. He just stays behind, scared to do anything. Ri'saad doesn't help you."
"You've helped me. Why do you think this? Because you're scared of Draugr? That's nothing."
He turned back to stare again at the ceiling. "Ri'saad is aware of what he is in for. You are the Dragonborn. This one needs to be prepared for anything, and he is not, by a long shot. This one just can't grasp what it means to work for you."
"You're not working for me. You're working with me. I know that I am technically important, but to me, you're even more than equal to me. It feels like you're greater than me. I look like I'm ready for this, but I'm not. I have no idea what to expect. That's why I have you and Lydia with me."
"What does this one give you that nobody else can?"
I knew there was an answer, but I couldn't find the will to put it into words. There was something that I knew I needed to say, and at the same time, felt as though I couldn't. There was something pulling me back.
"You're just... really important to me, Ri'saad. You give me strength."
That would have to do.
After he had calmed down, I brought him outside to resume training conjuration. To shorten a long story, I managed to get a wolf Familiar going for more than thirty seconds. Ri'saad refused to attempt his familiar again, perhaps a bit embarrassed by what it had turned out to be. He and I decided to sit on the rocks for a few minutes. After remembering what Familiars are intended to represent, I felt the need to ask him something.
"Where exactly did that house-cat come from?"
"The orphanage had one. This one had many friends, but the lack of complication involved with having a house cat as a friend was useful. Ri'saad would often cuddle him. It was quite nice," he said as looked up at the fading trees. "Some of the other kids found it a bit awkward, though."
"Hm."
He got up and approached one of the trees. I guessed that he was sizing it up to carve something. Knowing better than to distract him, I left the rocks to check up on Lydia inside, who was sitting at the dining table. She was writing in a book.
"What's going on?", I asked.
"Huh? Oh." She seemed like she was in deep thought. "I was just writing in my journal. Have a lot of things to write. Like here, where I wrote about how Ri'saad throws berries at my head and hides. He probably thinks I have no idea, the jackass."
"I didn't know you kept a journal."
"I've had it for a while. This is my second book. I started around when I lost my father."
"Oh," I said as I sat down next to her. "I'm sorry to hear about that. What did your father do before?"
"He lived fighting for the Legion, and died like that, too."
"An honorable end. He fought for his beliefs. I like that."
"Yeah. There's a bit of a story to it, too," she said before shifting in her seat to face me. I could tell that she was in the rare mood to share.
"I'm listening."
"Well, here's what happened. They were stationed out near the border of the Pale. Now, they had this little separate house where they kept the meat, and I guess the soldiers weren't good at closing the doors, and something kept stealing food. It started happening mid-summer, so when winter came around, he knew he could track footprints. He saw prints, and thought they were wolf prints. Unfortunately, that day, he was extremely drunk and only brought a sword and no armor with him. He went out into the woods alone, assuring the soldiers that he could take care of himself. He found the meat and the culprit. Turns out, the prints were actually skeever prints, and... he was too drunk to defend himself."
"Oh. Wow."
"Yeah. He was a heavy drinker," she sighed. "If you tell anyone else, I'm shoving a dragon bone up your ass."
"All right, nice talk."
"See you later, yeah."
I moved upstairs to the balcony, and turned around to see Ri'saad's drawing desk, littered with quills and paper. He was quite the artist. There was one drawing that he hadn't put away. I stood over the desk and looked down to see what it was. The drawing was of a Khajiit, sitting on the rocks by the house, contently reading a Conjuration spell book. His work always had such affectionate detail.
After that day of rest, the three of us had decided to leave for Riverwood, as the note had said to. Lydia had pointed out that the situation could easily have been set up as an ambush. We arranged with the Jarl to send men over to "build [us] a library". To be fair, that is what they were doing, but it wasn't the only purpose. We needed more strength as a precaution.
When the carriage dropped us off at Riverwood, we entered the Sleeping Giant Inn. Delphine was behind her counter, as usual. I approached her casually. She seemed to be glad to see me again.
"Hello, uh, Karal'e?", she asked.
"Yes. We're here to rent the attic room," I said as casually as I could manage.
Her reaction was one of surprise. I wasn't sure how she didn't expect it to be me.
"We... don't have an attic room here, but I can give you this room over to the side." She led us into the room and approached the wardrobe. She took the Horn from a desk text to it and handed it to me. "I need to speak with you privately."
She opened the wardrobe, which was empty, and pushed on the back panel. It swung open, revealing itself as a secret doorway. We walked down the stairs into the basement, where a table stood in the center, and many supplies were lined against the walls. As soon as we were all in the room, around the table, she addressed us. "I'll bet you're wondering why I took the horn. I am part of an organization who has been looking for someone like you."
"Looking for the Dragonborn, right? Why?", I responded.
Lydia stepped forward and said, "Also, why bring us in like this? Why not just find us? We're not very well-hidden."
Delphine seemed annoyed by the questioning. "I needed to get your attention somehow, and I made you rent the room to protect against the Thalmor. Now, the reason I need you, Karal'e, is because the Dragons are not returning. We believe they are being resurrected." She paused and took a good look at me. "The Greybeards may have taken a liking to you, but I still need to see your power for myself. Supposedly, only you can absorb a Dragon's soul and prevent them from being resurrected again. The Dragonstone you got from Bleak Falls Barrow shows that the next resurrection is set to occur at a mound in Kynesgrove."
"Who is resurrecting them?", Ri'saad asked.
"We'd like to know that, ourselves."
"And who is 'we'?"
"I can answer that later. For now, we need to get to Kynesgrove. We can rent a carriage. Once I see you slay a Dragon, I will accept you for what the Greybeards say you are," she explained. "Much as I'd be surprised that the Dragonborn is a Khajiit. I'd expect the Eight to send a Nord."
Once she had equipped her armor, she led us to a carriage. I was shaking with anticipation and fear. I was about to have the opportunity to slay another Dragon. My hopes were that I could save people and redeem myself for the guilt caused by my last encounter. Ri'saad, who sat next to me, seemed even more outwardly nervous, tying his fingers together and glaring worriedly down at them. Lydia looked at us both. I wasn't sure if she had faced a Dragon before, but based on her confusion towards our nervous expressions, she probably didn't know what she was in for.
Our arrival in Kynesgrove was late in the day. We rushed out of the carriage, as we could already hear the sound of a Dragon's voice. Our assumption was that the dragon had already been resurrected, and that we were too late. We dashed past the inn and up a wooded hill, following the path to the burial mound. A Dragon flew adjacent to the mound, but the burial site itself was still intact. The Dragon was black, with distinct spines running the length of its body. Familiar memories were jogged in my mind. This was the Dragon that had attacked Helgen.
This is the reason I am here.
It used some sort of shout that shook the soil of the mound. Soon, the surface tore as the skeletal arms emerged from the hill. One arm, then another. The claws grabbed hold of the circle of stone and pushed upward, lifting the body from the ground like a range of mountains. The bones of the undead Dragon shimmered, then glowed, as the flesh of the Dragon regenerated. The head and tail left the ground with ease, and soon the recreation was complete, and soaring through the air above us. We readied our spells and bows.
As we had expected, the Dragon returned to make a first supper out of us. It attempted to roast us with fire breath. Trying my previous tactic, I attempted to shock it to the ground, but this proved futile. We stabbed, shocked and burned the Dragon until it could no longer bear to fly under the pain. It plummeted downward, plowing through trees, throwing aside rocks and soil. It got up wearily to its feet. This thing was not ready to die any time soon. Ri'saad had grown weary, and began to retreat backwards. At that point, I was only annoyed. I unsheathed my sword, emboldened, and dashed at the Dragon to mount my sword in its neck.
My move was thoughtless, and the Dragon easily whipped me with its head, throwing me aside and nearly knocking me out. Ri'saad had assumed I had been critically injured, and his face twisted in fury. Knowing he could do nothing else, he summoned the Familiar spell, and cast it at the ground before him with more force and willpower than he knew he had within him. As the spell formed, the house-cat grew twenty times its size into a ferocious, rage-driven Sabre Cat. The feral beast immediately lunged onto the Dragon's head and bore its claws deep, gouging out all it could, and visually incapacitating the offender. Ri'saad then took the opportunity to impale the flying demon with ice spikes. The Dragon ceased resistance, and Lydia dealt the finishing blow to the head. Its newly-formed skin went to waste and dissolved, freeing the soul to the confines of my being as I gained the strength to lift myself from the ground.
Ri'saad, followed by the other two, rushed to my aid. "Are you injured?", Ri'saad asked, barely able to contain his shaking.
"I feel beat, but I'm not injured," I said as the comfort of his grip on my arm settled me. Delphine approached, dumbfounded, and impressed.
"So you really are the Dragonborn! This is incredible!" Delphine stated, tired and ecstatic. "There's so much I need you to do."
"After we help Karal'e," Ri'saad snapped with a sharp, harsh tone that startled me.
"Yes, I have healing potions back at the Inn."
"No, this one is taking Karal'e to our territory. If you have anything to say, or actually give a damn about the emotions of your newfound treasure of a person, you may follow."
Lydia's face went pale as she awkwardly backed away. Delphine, however, seemed offended. "You're not trying to say he isn't important for our future, are you?"
"Ri'saad is saying that he won't put up with you treating him like he's your sword to wield. We work on our own terms. We'll follow you when we need to."
"All right, so be it." She shook frustration from her voice. "In two month's time, the Thalmor will be hosting a party. My suspicion is that they're responsible for this. If you feel like helping the cause that you're meant for, I would suggest you help out."
Delphine sat near the front of the carriage. On its way back to Riverwood, we were dropped off at Dragon-blood Manor. We found ourselves looking forward to the relative relaxation of raiding bandit camps for pay.
That night, I decided to check out the newly-finished library. In was an additional square-shaped room branching from the main hall, and about the same size. Like the dining hall, the space rose up two floors, and had one set of stairs leading to another balcony that ran alongside the face of the main room. The fireplace was made of stone with a mantle of Dragon bone. Hey, I had to keep the theme going, somehow. To the right of the fireplace was a spiral staircase that led up a small tower. I climbed the stairs and opened the door, welcoming the valley wind that embraced me.
Taking in the magnificent view, I began to reflect on my situation. It's these kinds of sensory moments that always bring out my deepest thoughts and feelings. At the time, I wasn't sure where to draw the line between purpose and emotion. At what point do my personal needs trump the battle against the Dragons? I didn't want to abandon all that I stood for. I didn't want this war to conclude the lives of the people that desired, more than anything, to fight it with me. Even so, I felt as though it was all necessary; That everyone I loved and cared for needed to die for me, as though it was meant by the Eight to happen like that. The concern that my life was completely out of my control was unshakeable.
Still, knowing that I wouldn't be troubled for another few months, I was able to find solitude. If there's nothing more I could do for the time being, I could wait in peace. Weariness beckoned for me to return to my bed, and I put an end to this coarse and stressful day.