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I do want to know that I am changing a few things around that someone in PM mentioned. I was never really a Fan of the designs of the Skyrim dragons. So I am changing the Skyrim dragons to the more classical version of dragons, four legs, head neck, tail, and wings. Very similar to the dragons of Alagaesia. Also I might be changing a few other things around. Some of the change may make you scratch your head, others will be for obvious reasons.

Inheritance of Skyrim

Chapter 7

By the Dragon's Blood.

By. R. Reichelderfer

All Murtagh knew was Thorn was hurt by a dragon attack. Hurt badly. He felt the pain in his chest. The ache. Fear and panic had torn from him as he raced out of the Barrow he was in, ramming through Draugr, and skeletons. Trying to escape. His mind trying to reach out to take hold of Thorn, to keep in touch. But after the attack Thorn's thoughts faded, they were there like a small tendril. Keeping them linked by the faintest threads, threads Murtagh feared would be snapped at any moment.

His horse galloped as fast as he could across the plains to Whiterun. Even from hear he could see the faint trails of smoke wafting up into the sky. the last of the fires were being doused. Murtagh did not care. Thorn was his only concern. Riding up the path to the City as fast as his horse would carry him. Every second was like an eternity. Finally With his horse foaming at the Mouth the guards realizing Who was approaching grabbed hold of the door as Murtagh came up and pulled it up. Pulling his horse to a stop the beast breathed hard as Murtagh Slide out of the saddle. And ran into the City.

Repeatedly, he yelled out mentally, and physically. "THORN! WHERE ARE YOU?!" He ran though the street as he could feel Thorn's mind stir.. As he began to reach the Market place, Murtagh could see Thorn splayed out in front of a smashed in store that had a hold large enough for Thorn to have been thrown through it.

Large blood stained bandages covered Thor's body. Around his chest, neck, legs, Thorn laid there. His breathing shallow but regular.

Tears streamed down his cheeks. and after collecting himself for a brief few moments Murtagh lunged for Thorn. Irileth, Hrongar, and Balgruuf turned in time to See Murtagh Running as the three moved to Intercept Murtagh. "No don't you'll reopen his wounds!"

Balgruuf, and Hrongar held Murtagh's arms back as he struggled pushing against all three. "He'll Die!" Irileth pushing against his armored waist to keep him away from Thorn in his panic.

"Dragonborn, HE WILL LIVE!" Balgruuf said, the words took a few moments for it to soak into his panicked mind. Turning to look at Balgruuf as if he could not believe the words.

Hrongar holding Murtagh as he said, "He will recover. In time fully." Panic began to subside as tears streamed down his cheeks. Anger, rage, panic, fear, sorrow all of these came from his heart and mind. Murtagh looked over at Thorn as his dragon opened his mind. With his panic subsiding. They let Murtagh pass as he came over quickly and more controlled. Half stumbling as he knelt beside Thorn. Lifting his head up Murtagh held Thorn's face close to his own. The Right side of his head had numerous cuts, and gashes. Holding the side of Thorn's face he felt something wet. And pulling his hand away as drops of blood, Thorn's blood was on his hand.

Feeling the magic in him, Murtagh was about to use his magic to heal Thorn when Thorn pushed him a way with his head and then told him. /~I am stronger then you think, I will heal. Others need your healing more than I do.~/ Thorn inside wanted to tell Murtagh he was free of the oaths that held him. But Murtagh was desperate to help Thorn. And the oaths that bound Murtagh still held his rider. But Thorn needed to try and understand how he had been freed before he could understand how to free his rider. But for now Thorn knew he was alright, nothing inside felt broken, most of what he felt was surface injuries.

Thorn pushed Murtagh off again when he resisted. For Murtagh it was hard to leave Thorn. But his friend was adamant about not being healed. Murtagh collecting himself and then steadied his hands as he came over to the more injured people. The healing spells he had were fairly low level. He was still learning and growing stronger as he used what he could to help heal injuries. Murtagh wondered why Thorn's mind was closed to him now, his friend was hiding something. The two had always been open to each other. But Murtagh knew Thorn was right. He had to help heal them. As he channeled the magic into healing. It wasn't like what he expending. He could feel it using energy, but it was a different feeling of fatigue. Almost mental, rather than physical exhaustion.

Murtagh had also found Ysolda, a Female Khajjit that he had given a Mammoth Tusk to after he left Halted Stream Camp. He had been stricken by her exotic beauty. He had seen the Khajiit traders traveling to and from various cities. She was also trying to buy the Bannered mare from Hulda. She had a couple of burns and cuts on her as Murtagh used a stronger spell for healing on her than was perhaps needed to tend to her cuts and bruises. She looked up at Murtagh as a purr erupted from her throat. "Thank you." She said. Her fur was a tawny gold. She held green gold eyes, She had no hair, as humans had. but she had a white belly and jaw line. Unlike the other Khajiits she spoke normal English. Apparently for them it was a personal choice. It took a few moments to get Murtagh's attention back to helping those with more serious injuries.

Having worked himself to Exhaustion helping the people with their injuries. Murtagh could hear then praise him. But also Thorn. He watched as children came over to pet Thorn, who seemed to just melt under their touches, and the people. Proclaiming him as the greatest hero Skyrim had since Tiber Septim. He could see the respect, and amazement people had. being in the Open and so openly praised like this. Murtagh was confused, but also welcomed it. Thrived on it. People respected him for who he was. They knew nothing of his parentage, nothing of the hardship of Alagaesia. Deep in his heart he could feel it. This is where he wanted to stay. Where he wanted to live. To spend the centuries of his long life. Having heard the tales of the Dragonborn.

He could conquer all of Skyrim when Thorn was old enough. Then spread his power to Cyrodiil, Hammerfall. But then he felt sick to his stomach. That was what Galbatorix had done. Conquered Alagaesia. His father helped, and he did not want to become his father. He was his father's son, but he did not want to become his father. As he followed the guard into Dragonsreach as they helped Thorn limp his way into the palace. To get him into shelter, A bed had been laid out for Thorn just inside. It was large, spacious, plenty of room for Thorn to stretch out on. Large piles of furs and fabric had been laid out. Taking a look at the damage done to Whiterun. The damage one dragon caused. Buildings burned to the ground, people dead, or worse eaten. The injured, the damage. He could feel the blood boil in his veins. The guards had barely been able to fight two of these dragons. He could only wonder how the other cities and settlements could fair.

Tears ran down his cheeks. As he came inside. Seeing the burned and blackened bodies, hearing the tales of people loosing their farms, everything. For once in his life, now that he did not have to worry about people killing him. Well that was untrue, Balgruuf was sure the Thalmor would try to kill him. But these people accepted him. Coming over to kneel beside Thorn, Murtagh held his friend's face and chin. The Red Dragon's eyes stared into him. Those soft eyes, betrayed the power behind them as Thorn asked. /~Are these people worth protecting, are you willing to Risk your life for them?~/ The Question made him stop. With Thorn at his side Murtagh could stem the dragon attacks, maybe find away to have dragons live in peace with people. But then at once he felt the oaths pull and tug him trying to strangle him.

As he thought of it he heard a lute very close start playing. Turning with tears down his cheeks. He saw Ysolda holding the Lute. Or maybe it was his imagination. But as she strummed the Lute she began to sing.

Our hero, our hero, claims a warrior's heart.
I tell you, I tell you, the Dragonborn comes.
With a Voice wielding power of the ancient Nord art.
Believe, believe, the Dragonborn comes.
It's an end to the evil, of all Skyrim's foes.
Beware, beware, the Dragonborn comes.
For the darkness has passed, and the legend yet grows.
You'll know, You'll know the Dragonborn's come.

DOVahKiiN DOVahKiiN
NaaL OK ZIN LOS VahRiiN
Wah DeiN VOKUL MahFAERaaK ahST VaaL
ahRK FIN NOROK PaaL GraaN
FOD NUST HON ZINDRO ZaaN
DOVahKiiN Fah HIN KOGaaN MU DRaaL

Sinking to his knees as he listened to the verse. The words of the final verse echoed in his mind. He had never heard them before. But knew their meaning, in his mind, in his heart, His soul. And as they were spoken the blood in his body seemed to heat and burn hot like a dragon's fire.

Dragonborn Dragonborn
By his honor is sworn
To keep evil forever at bay
And the fiercest foes rout
When they hear triumph's shout
Dragonborn for your blessing we pray

As he felt the power in him flare and rage at those words. He whispered, accepting who he was now. In a voice so soft, that carried with it the greatest feeling Murtagh had known. Freedom. When he accepted it, the oaths broke. Shattered. The near loss of Thorn, seeing the pain, helping people. Seeing how they respected him. And how badly they needed a Dragon Rider, and more importantly this Dovahkiin. The Words changed his very being. The Words spoken in a voice so soft not even someone with their ear to his lips could have heard.

"I am Dragonborn."

And with that a wave of Exhaustion over came Murtagh as he leaned against Thorn and passed out.